Page 96 of Liberating Bells
Because I was supposed to marry him. Until I didn’t.
The giant king bed in the master bedroom looks lonely, like it hasn’t been slept in for months. Pillows are fluffed perfectly, and there isn’t a single wrinkle on the comforter. It leaves a sour feeling in my stomach, and I turn my eyes elsewhere. The tops of the dressers are organized, and the room faintly still smells like Mark’s cologne.
I let go of Ryan’s hand and open a few drawers, pulling the clothes out and throwing them onto the bed to pack them. Ryanstands in the doorframe, watching me. He looks around the room but doesn’t say anything. It takes me only ten minutes, and then I send Ryan out to grab some boxes and bags from the trucks. While he’s getting those, I hurry into the guest bedroom and set to work, pulling out the rest of my personal items.
He returns a moment later with a frown etched on his face. My heart skips a beat. “What’s wrong?” I ask.
Ryan shakes his head like it’s nothing and sets the boxes down on the guest room floor, before going to lean in the frame of the door. “I’m not sure.” He looks puzzled. I look back down at the pile of clothes I’ve been accumulating “I thought I saw?—”
Ryan’s sentence is cut off with a grunt, and then I hear a thump as he hits the ground. I spin around, my hands coming up to cover my mouth in a muffled scream. Mark stands over Ryan’s crumpled body, his dark eyes observing the man on the ground, a gun held up in his hand. He’s holding on to the barrel, exposing the base he used to hit Ryan over the head. He turns his attention to me, a sneer painting his face.
"Fuck, I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he growls as he sticks the gun in the waistband of his pants.
“Ryan!” I scream as I drop to the ground and try to get to him. Mark catches me and hauls me back up to my feet.
His hand comes to cup my cheek, and he steps into the guest bedroom, getting in my personal space. Mark runs his nose along my jawline and takes a deep breath. “God, I’ve missed you, baby. Don’t worry, you’re safe now.”
I struggle to get away from him, but his hands grip me tight. “Let go of me!” I shout at him. I hear my pulse thrumming in my ears. “Ryan! Ryan, wake up!”
Ryan’s still crumpled on the ground. Mark’s blow to his head knocked him out cold. I’m on my own.
“Shhh,” Mark soothes as he runs his thumb over my bottom lip. “It’s okay. By the time he wakes up, we’ll be long gone.”
I turn my head away from his fingers and glare at him. “I’m not goinganywherewith you.”
Mark’s face hardens, and he pulls me closer into him. “I don’t think you really have a choice in the matter, baby. You aremine,remember?” He captures my mouth, and pries open my lips with his tongue, invading me, taking what’s his.
I sink my teeth into his bottom lip in a desperate move to get him off of me. Mark pulls away with a roar, and his fingers come up to touch his mouth. When he pulls them away, there’s a spot of blood. He gives a dark chuckle, and then spins me around so that my back is pressed against his front. His thick forearm comes across my chest, holding me captive, as his other hand comes up to cup my throat. Tilting my head back, he exposes my neck to him.
“I was wondering when you’d come back,” he whispers in my ear. His warm breath against my skin makes my skin crawl. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
“How’d you know we were here?” I gasp, his hand slightly pressing into my windpipe, making it difficult to breathe, but not entirely blocking my airway.
“Hmm,” he murmurs. “Security cameras. I got the notification the minute you showed up here, and I hurried right over. I didn’t want to risk missing you.”
I thrash my body, trying to break free from his grip. My eyes dart to Ryan, but he’s still out cold. Seeing him helpless like that makes my stomach churn, and I have to tear my eyes away. Mark continues to speak nonsense, telling me that he knew I would return to him and that everything will be okay. My mind is spinning, trying to think of an escape route. First thing’s first, I need to get out of his grip.
I think back to how I escaped when the instructors grabbed me during my self-defense class. This was why I took that course in the first place. It’s time to utilize what I learned. I take a deepbreath, ignoring the slimy words Mark’s muttering to me and focusing on my body’s position in relation to his.
In one swift move, I throw my heel back, connecting with Mark’s shin. It doesn’t even faze him. He continues to keep a tight grip on me. I squeeze my eyes shut and pray to whatever God or deity is listening to please let us get through this. I muster up all my strength and raise my heel again, coming down on his foot as hard as I possibly can.
Mark startles, just enough for me to wiggle away from him. I turn to face him and swing my fist, connecting with his jaw. He groans in pain and clutches at his face. While he’s distracted, I aim another hit at his gut, hitting my target with enough power to force him to double over.
“You fuckingbitch,” he growls, bent over at the waist.
I see my opportunity, and I take it, leaping over Ryan’s crumpled form and running out to the living room. I’m in the living room, the front door in my sights, when he grabs my wrist, forcing me to spin around and face him. Mark pushes me against the wall harshly, and I cry out when my spine hits the drywall. The force momentarily knocks the wind out of me.
“You really shouldn’t have done that,” he grits out. “Looks like you forgot how to behave like a good little wife. Do I need to remind you?”
“Let me go!” I spit at him and throw my hand out, connecting with his face. Flexing my fingers, I dig my nails into his cheek.
He roars in pain and lets go of my neck, his hand flying up to grip my fingers clawing at his skin. With an incredible force of strength, he throws me away from him. I stay on my feet when he throws me, but then lose my balance as I’m trying to right myself. As I crash to the ground, my hands sprawl around me.
When I hear Mark’s thunderous footsteps coming up behind me, I scramble onto my back, not wanting to have him out of my sights. I push myself into a sitting position and crowd into acorner in the living room. Making myself small, I curl my knees up into my chest.
Mark’s face is murderous as he glares at me. He reaches behind him and removes the gun from his waistband. As he pulls the slide back, the unmistakable noise of the bullet moving into place sends a wave of panic throughout my whole body, and then he aims it at me. My stomach flips like I’m on a rollercoaster, heart kicking into overdrive as I stare into the barrel.
“Mark,” I whisper, defeated. I raise my hands in surrender.
