Page 49 of Liberating Bells
My heart pounds harder as Mark turns his glare toward me. His expression is thunderous. The instant I see his expression, I feel the wine-headache coming on. All notions of love and tenderness that he expressed less than an hour ago are gone without a trace. “Wanna tell me why thefuckRyan is blowing up your phone?”
My jaw drops open, and words fail me. Not that it matters.
Mark doesn’t give me a chance to explain before he’s dropping my phone to the floor and advancing on me. His hand grabs my throat as he pushes me against the wall, his grip squeezing and tightening as he crushes my windpipe.
My eyes go wide as I struggle against him, but his hold is too tight.
Fear explodes within me, and my fight-or-flight kicks in as I claw and kick at him. But still, it’s not enough.
I make out Mark saying something to me, and vaguely I recognize him swearing and calling me horrible names. I still trymy hardest to get away from him, but his hold is still far too tight. I hate that I’m not strong enough to match his strength.
My mind races as I try to reason my way out of this situation. Should I just let him expel his anger? Get it out of his system so we can move on? If I continue to struggle, could I end up hurt worse than if I didn’t? Like the last time I tried to get away from him and he sprained my shoulder?
At some point, the reasoning becomes pointless.
I can’t breathe.
Black spots play around my vision as I make the decision to continue to fight. Panic makes my skin prickle and I know I’m about to lose consciousness any second now.
Finally, without realizing I’m doing it, my arm swings up, and I clock him on the side of his face. Mark swears, but lets me go.
I crumple to the ground in a heap, though I catch myself with my hands, sputtering and coughing, gasping air deep into my lungs and feeling the burn. Tears stream down my face and my heart feels as though it’s about to explode out of my chest.
Mark sits a few feet away, still cursing and muttering under his breath. Distantly, I see him cupping his cheek.
I blink a few times, staring at the wooden floor, though not seeing anything. My body trembles uncontrollably and my arms give out from underneath me. I press my cheek against the cool floor and allow myself to breathe.
Every insecurity floods me as I lie there, broken in the aftermath of what just happened. In those few minutes, I seem to experience every possible emotion; fear, hatred, disappointment. Yet none of those are as strong as the self-loathing I feel for myself.
How could I have allowed this to happen? I should have known better than to push the limits. I should have been better.I hate myself for being so weak, so broken. And finally, the most fearful thought of all…
Maybe I deserved it.
17
RYAN
“Wake up, sleepyhead,”a female voice sings to me. I feel my shoulder being shaken in an attempt to rouse me.
With a groan, I roll over to find Josie sitting on the edge of my bed. I rub my eyes, trying to decide if I’m still drunk. My head is pounding, and my stomach feels like I’ve been on a rollercoaster for hours. When I glance at the clock on the bedside table, I am mortified to find it’s not even six in the morning.
“What are you doing here, Jos?”
She gives me a sweet smile. “Well, since you so kindly interrupted my evening with your tomfoolery, I decided to crash here last night. We have a big day today, and I wasn’t about to let you ruin that.”
Ah yes, my brain miraculously puts two and two together. We have the Stevenson site inspection today. This project is a big deal for Josie. And for me.
“You slept here?” I ask her. My eyes dart to the other side of my bed. It looks undisturbed, but I couldn’t be too sure. “We didn’t?—”
“No, don’t worry. I’m not that desperate,” she says with a smirk.
Relief crashes through me, and I stretch my arms above my head.
As if she’s had enough of my shit, Josie claps her hands to get me moving, and the sharp noise makes me groan as it reverberates through my ears. “Okay, you need to get up, shower, and put on some better-looking clothes. Then we’ll get you some super unhealthy breakfast and the blackest coffee possible. Come on. We gotta be on the road by seven. You know how far that site is, and we’re supposed to be there by noon. Up and at ’em!”
She tugs on my hand, forcing me to roll out of bed and pushing me into the bathroom. I do my best to shower as quickly as possible, cleansing myself of the aftermath of last night. The steam helps clear my head, and I feel a ton better.
When I step out of my en suite bathroom, I find that Josie’s laid out a fresh dress shirt and slacks for me, and has even made my bed. This woman is too much. Stumbling out of my bedroom, I find her scrolling on her phone on my couch. My eyes dart to the overnight bag on one of the chairs in the room. She really is one of the most prepared people I’ve ever met. She stands when she sees me and allows her gaze to travel me up and down, giving me a nod of approval.
