Page 38 of Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

11.

Livvy

The feel of the room when my eyes open is completely different from the night before. I know it’s morning by the light shining through the windows. I spent the night on the sofa. Michael stares down at me, dressed in a gray pair of sweatpants, not as dressy as yesterday’s. His glare is hard. He’s angry. I know it, can see it. But I don’t know what could have set him off. I just woke up.

I suck in my bottom lip. Had I talked in my sleep?

“What’s wrong?” I caution to ask.

“I told you you’d need to be punished. It’s time, Liv.”

“What?” I shriek.

“You knew this was coming. Don’t make it harder than it has to be.”

Michael has one hand resting on his hip, the other he has draped to his side, a thick wooden switch—probably a thin tree branch—fisted tightly.

I leap from the sofa, but my foot gets tangled in the blanket and I trip, clipping my chin on the coffee table, opening up a small gash.

“Told you not to make it harder than it has to be.” He bends down to grab me by the hair at the nape of my neck, twisting it hard and yanking me up at the same time. I fight to jerk from his grip, clawing at the tightening fingers.

Violently, he shakes me, I’m a bobble head in his arms until he begins moving, dragging me toward the room opposite the bedroom, a guest room, where he tosses me on the bed face down. Pulling me to the edge of the bed, he puts a knee to my back to keep me in place, hard enough to keep me trapped. My arms are tucked under my body.

I squirm, but that’s the most I can do. He flips the negligée up to expose my bare bottom. There’s a second where I hear awhooshand then feel a horrible stinging against the skin there.

A strangled cry escapes from my mouth. Strangled because my face is crushed down against the blanket. He keeps my face pressed there as he continues to whip the switch against my ass and legs, and even onto my back from the uncontrolled thrashes.

My body trembles from the pain. A river of tears roll from my eyes. I have no choice but to lay there and take every lash he dishes out.

It feels like it goes on forever, his brutal attack. “You will learn,” he says. “There are consequences.” He hits harder on the word “consequences.” “Repeat it,” he orders. Loudly. Harshly.

I can’t suck in enough air to breathe properly, let alone speak.

“Repeat it,” he orders a second time, bringing the switch down again.

I choke on the tears and saliva but am finally able to force the words out. “There… are…consequences.”

“Good. You remember that, we won’t find ourselves here again.” Michael then pulls his knee from my back to roll me over. My skin screams in silent agony at the pressure from the bed pressing against it, and he kisses me, even with snot dripping from my nose. “Now go clean yourself up. Breakfast in ten minutes.” He turns to leave.

Breakfast?

I can’t move. I hurt so badly that I can’t hold my body weight up to clean myself.

Ten minutes must pass because Michael calls out to me. “Let’s go, Liv. Food’s done.”

Whatever he decides to do to me, he does to me because there is no way I can pick myself up. My back and legs are too raw. I still feel my pulse pounding through the skin burning with that same fevered agony. The most I’ve managed is to roll onto my side, bring my knees up to my chest and cry.

The clomp of his steps coming down the hall gets louder until he’s standing in the doorway.

“You didn’t clean up.” His voice isn’t as hard as it had been, but still I pretend not to hear him. I pretend he’s not even in the room. “Come on, Liv. Don’t be angry. I told you you’d need to be punished. Now it’s over.” He walks over to the bed and drops down next to me, placing his hand on my shoulder.

I continue to ignore him. Not a glance. Not a flinch. Nothing. Only my tears move, rolling down my cheeks.

Michael appears agitated. Pulling his hand back, he runs his fingers through his hair. “Okay. Alright, Liv. I’ll fix this,” he says, swiping his thumb through the wetness below my eyes, and he pushes up from the bed to walk out.

Next I hear a faucet running.

A moment later he’s back in the room with me, lifting my body gently from where I lay and we move the one door down to the bathroom. He sets me in a cool, but not cold, bath.

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