by B. M. Hardin
He would tell her how much he loved her and that she was the best thing that ever happened to him. So, I knew without a shout of doubt that, if I ever left him, I knew he would try to take her from me and he would probably win. Money, lawyers, judges, everything was on his side.
What else was I supposed to do?
Laying her down for a nap, I headed for the balcony to catch a breeze. I smacked my lips as I heard him open the door.
Lord, not tonight, please not tonight. I heard him enter the room. I heard him kiss the baby and then I heard him as he walked closer and stopped directly behind me.
“I love you."
No, you couldn’t possibly love me, is what I wanted to say, but I just wasn’t in the mood to fight, and besides, I didn’t want to wake the baby.
“I love you too," I said dryly, although despite all he had done to me, I actually did. And somewhere within all his madness, I knew that deep down he loved me too.
He turned me around to face him. He rubbed my face and the bruises on my left cheek were he had bitten me a few days before. I looked down at his feet. I let a slow, single tear fall from my eyes. I felt so ugly. So unwanted. So unloved.
He lifted my head to look at him. He was crying too. He was always crying. He kissed the bruise and then kissed my lips. Though I allowed it, I didn’t kiss him back.
“I’m so sorry, I need help baby. My anger gets the best of me and I take it out on you. I don’t mean to." he cried.
I didn’t say a word. But I could definitely agree with him. He needed help. Though he acknowledged the fact, I knew that the only thing he wanted was some ass, and I prepared myself to give it to him. Not because I wanted to, but I just didn’t want to fight.
And of course, that’s what he came for, and once he had gotten it, he was gone.
~***~
The next few days were what they were. Not much was said between the two of us. Not much was left to say. Even when he discovered my secret savings account, he didn’t say much. I lied and said it was money that I had been putting back for Kimbrella. Though he seemed to believe me, he still made me close the account. What I couldn’t figure out was how he had found out in the first place. Someone at the bank had to have told him and if I ever find out who it was, I was taking charges out on their ass.
Every day, Marcus was reminding me more and more of my father. Though I hadn’t seen him in maybe twenty years, Marcus was starting to favor him or maybe it was just that all woman beaters looked the same. I don’t know.
My dad, at one point was a good man. He was talented, handy, and boy did he have a sense of humor. He was so funny. Around him, there was always laughter and smiles. But things changed when he was laid off from his job back then. He started to drink and things got bad and never got better.
He was always so depressed and he started to take his anger out on mama. I remembered the first time he beat her. I had to be about six. He beat her so bad, right in front of all of us. When my oldest sister and oldest brother tried to jump in to help, he beat the brakes off of them too.
Though the beatings continued for a while, mama never left his side. She always did her part. But one day daddy went out, and never came back. And I haven’t seen him since.
They say that my mama knew where he was, had even spoken to him, maybe had even agreed that they go their separate ways, but in my mind he was a coward. He left seven kids behind, two of them boys that needed a father. I didn’t hate him, but I was disappointed in him. If I ever saw him again, I probably wouldn’t even know who he was.
I had decided that I was going to treat myself. I hadn’t done anything just for me in a while and some time away from the house would be good for me.
I spent the day making myself look and feel good. I had gotten my hair, nails, and toes done. Now I was doing a little shopping. Since I had had Kimbrella, I had snapped right back to my original size. Everything was still firm and in place. I still looked good.
Heading back to my car, I noticed someone watching me. Smiling at me.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
How are you?”
“I’m fine and you?” I said trying to be polite.
I couldn't help but check him out. He was my kind of man. Tall, clean cut, Italian, maybe. He was neatly groomed; his hair was cut short and he wore an all-black Armani suit.
Hell, he looked like he had just stepped out of a magazine.
He smiled at me flirtatiously, and of course I smiled back.
“What’s a beautiful woman doing out here shopping all alone?”
I blushed. I was so tempted to go along with the conversation, but ja split second of silence, caused me to remember that I was married. Not because I wanted to be, but still yet, I was. Damn it.
I continued to smile at him. Once I was in my car, I broke the bad news to him about me being married. He wished me well, and turned to walk away.
On the way back home, I stopped at the park, and parked my car under the trees. I thought about my life; my marriage...my freedom. Oh, how I wish I could be free. After a while of thoughts of depression, I found a happy place as I thought of the fine ass man I had just met. I couldn’t help but wonder what if. As I thought of him, my hand made her way in between my legs. It had been so long that I had actually come from satisfaction, and I was well overdue. Even when I was forced to or even when I forced myself to give in to Marcus, I never did it for myself. Half of the time, most of the time, my mind was always somewhere else. Sometimes I would even forget that he was on top of me and start humming or singing. He would do nothing more than look at me and continue doing whatever it was that he thought he was doing.
I closed my eyes and allowed my mind to take me far away from what was going on around me. I rubbed my clitoris lightly, gently, just to remind her of what it felt like to truly feel pleasure. It didn’t take long for me to please myself, being no one could ever do it better. Now that my me time was over, I headed back to hell on earth.
~***~
"Are you serious?"
“Do I look like I'm playing to you? Ain’t no fun if the boys can't have none."
Marcus sat in the recliner, watching, as he was about to let three of his friends have their way with me. I had never seen them before and they looked more from the street than Marcus's usual friends, so outside of being hysterical from the very thought of about to be raped, panic and fear of diseases began to set in.
And the fact that they would have sex with their friend's wife, in front of him, said a lot about their character. Who does that? But I knew money was in the mix. And what is the saying, money talks, bullshit walks... Straight like that. The things people do for money. The things people do in general. What kind of man watches his wife gets raped? How could you live with yourself after something like that?
And to make matters worse, my daughter laid in the crib, crying right beside the bed. That very thing broke my heart even more than the fact of what Marcus was about let happen to me.
I cried and pleaded with him but my pleas went unheard.
I pleaded with the three strangers but none of them seemed to be listening to me. They all looked at Marcus, and once he gave them the okay, they continued with ripping off my clothes.
This was not going to happen. This wasn’t happening.
This had to be a joke...right?
I tried to fight them but I couldn’t beat them. Though they endured blow after blow, they did as they had been told to do.
Marcus watched me fight them with all of my might but said nothing, One by one they had their way with me and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.
I was in a nightmare and I just couldn’t seem to wake up. It all seemed so unreal. I felt like some cheap ass whore from the streets and not some millionaire’s wife.
How could he do this to me? How could he let them touch me? How could he be so cruel?
Once they were finished, Marcus escorted them back downstairs, and I’m sure to his office
to collect some kind of payment.
I lay on the bed, looking toward the closet. The baby was screaming at the top of her lungs but my attention stayed on the closet. I hadn’t forgotten about the gun in my shoe box but at this point, I didn’t know who I wanted to kill more; him or myself. My life just didn’t seem worth living anymore. If it wasn’t for the baby I was sure that I would have killed myself by now. Then again if it wasn’t for the baby, I wouldn’t still be here.
I tried to get up but when he walked back into the room, I froze.
“You mean to tell me, after all 'I’ve done for you, you have the nerve to have a sex with other, in my house, in my bed? I just saw them leaving, Kasey! How dare you do this to me?"
I looked at him confused. You got to be kidding me? Was this really about to happen? Was he serious?
“Answer me bitch!"
“What do you want me to say Marcus? You just let three strangers have their way with your wife. Your wife Marcus, and in front of your child. What is there left to say? You can yell, beat me, and do whatever you want to do to me. I don’t care anymore." I cried and I meant every word I had just said.
He stared at me long and hard.
“Get out!" he finally yelled.
My eyes lit up. Those words were like music to my ears.
“It would be my pleasure." I said and headed for the exit.
I walked past my daughter, already knowing that he wouldn’t let me take her. Hell, this was too easy, in the back of my mind I knew he wasn’t letting me leave either.
“Where are you going? I said get out!" he screamed, blocked the door and pointed to the balcony.
I should have known he wouldn’t have let me leave. It was all too easy. Heading to the balcony doors, he said something that caught me by surprise.
“Hell, you wanted to give it to your little lover boy that you were talking to at the mall today. Hell, I figured since you were passing out pussy passes, you might as well pass out some to my boy’s too.” he said sarcastically.
What? He had been following me? All this was because he seen me say two words to some guy that I didn’t even know? And back to the beginning, what the hell was he doing following me? I had always known he was a damn stalker.
“You’re so pathetic. The said thing was that I told him that I was happily married.” I shook my head. I mean I did tell him I was married. The happily part was a lie but I knew it would make Marcus feel like the crap he was. And I was right. The look on his face said it all.
It was thundering and pouring down raining, and my half naked body stood on the balcony in the freezing rain. I heard him turn the lock behind me but I didn’t even bother to look back. I knew that he was going to leave me out there all night.
It was November and though California didn’t get too cold, it was cold enough. Especially from the rain. I didn’t have on any panties so I curled up on one of the lawn chairs and tucked my legs under my rip shirt. The pouring rain stung my back, and before long my tears and the rain became difficult to tell apart. I felt like an orphan or a runaway, so, so far from home. I just wanted to go home and as far as I was concerned this wasn’t my home. I heard the baby become quite and the lights cut off in the background. God please do something before I do something myself.
~***~
I was well in time for Thanksgiving. I had been sick with pneumonia from when Marcus made me sleep naked in the rain. I had it so bad that I was in ICU for a whole week.
The good thing about it was that I think it scared him half to death. I was really fighting for my life and it would have been his entire fault if I hadn’t made it. But unfortunately I did.
Since I'd been home, as expected, he had been overly nice.
Even when I would flip out on him, just because I hated him, he said, did nothing. He waited on me hand and foot, made me breakfast in bed, the whole nine yards. My gut told me he was up to something but no matter how hard I tried to find out what it was he didn’t break. Maybe the 'death scare' had been the one thing that had finally changed him. Anything was possible.
Eating Thanksgiving with his family and friends, I found it hard to smile or even be a part of the conversations. I wanted to tell them all what he had done to me. How he had changed and that this wonderful man that sat in front of them was one big fat lie. But I kept quiet. I looked at all of the other women and wondered just what price they were paying to live this life of luxury? Were they being abused too? Did they have to deal with infidelity?
I was a hundred percent sure that they had to deal with something. We all did. Our big houses, and fancy cars, were nothing in exchange for what we had to go through to keep them.
I found it hard to eat. I tried but I just couldn’t so I sat there, picking at my food.
When I looked up, Marcus was staring at me.
He was giving me the evil eye, but I didn’t care. I just wasn’t in the mood. I was sick and tired, physically, mentally and emotionally. At this point, and after all of my recent near death experiences, I couldn’t help but have a 'fuck that' attitude.
Whatever happened; happened. Maybe one day he would succeed in killing me, at least then I would be free, at last.
I excused myself from the table and headed upstairs to our bedroom.
I knew he was going to follow me but so what. Whether it happened now or later, it really didn’t make much difference.
I knew that the fact that I was sick and couldn’t fight back only made him feel more powerful. So I knew he was going to take advantage of the situation...he always did.
Like clockwork, minutes later he entered the room behind me carrying a bowl. When he sat it down on the bed in front of me, I saw that it was dog food.
We didn’t even have a dog, where the hell did he get dog food from?
“Since you don’t seem to like the turkey that I had prepared for you, you can eat this."
“It’s not that I didn’t like it. I’m sick and I’m not hungry. And I’m sure as hell not eating any dog food Marcus."
He walked closer and stuck his hand in it.
“You are going to eat whatever I tell you to. Open your mouth."
“No."
“Open your mouth." he growled.
“No, you eat it." I shot back.
See, maybe my mouth got me into more trouble than if I would just learn to keep it closed. Mid-sentence, he rammed the dog food in my mouth. He pushed it all the way to the back of my throat, almost making me choke. Once he had had enough of that he continued with smearing it all over my face and in my hair.
I yelled out for help. I was desperately in need for help and I was tired of being quiet about it. I heard the room door open. Marcus became still and I glanced in the direction of the door to see his sister, Tara.
I gave her the most pitiful look I could muster and began to weep. She just stood there for a second. She didn’t say a word. Then quietly she walked over to the vent and closed it and turned to face her brother.
“Keep it quiet. We can hear you downstairs."
I looked at her confused. She could see that he was doing something unnatural to me but she turned and walked away.
What kind of messed up family was this? I should have done a background check on the whole damn family before I married his crazy ass.
Marcus was still sitting quietly, with me still pinned down under him. After a while he looked down at me.
“Kasey, is this dog food? What the hell are you doing with dog food? We don’t even have a dog."
Exactly.
~***~
Looking in my daughters eyes, I wondered if she could sense how unhappy I was. I wondered if she would hate me for leaving her dad, if that meant she had to come up poor like I did.
I mean back then, we didn’t have much but at least we had good times, laughter and smiles.
That was something that I had come to value. I was starting to realize that having a whole lot of money was so overrated.
I thought about one Christmas. I w
as maybe ten. We had gotten maybe two presents a piece. I remembered how if one had gotten something the other wanted, we would swap out gifts.
Never did we even complain. Our friends would brag about how much they had gotten but that never seemed to matter to us. We were just so thankful to have gotten anything extra at all because there were some Christmas's and birthdays that we didn’t get anything. Being poor definitely taught you some great characteristics, as a person. Why hadn’t I seen that before? Apparently being rich, didn’t teach you a damn thing.
I thought about how important it was to make sure that my daughter had some of those same values that I had learned at such an early age. She needed to know just what it meant to be grateful and in this big house and in this rich world she would never learn that.
After putting the baby down for a nap, I decided to go fix me something for lunch. I knew my monster of a husband was somewhere downstairs but I sure hoped he wouldn’t bother me, hell I preferred if he wouldn’t even speak to me. It’s sad how in your own house you feel like you’re in prison. I was always watching my back. Damn it, here he comes.
“Hey."
“Hey Marcus."
“What happened to your eye?"
I didn’t even bother to answer him. He knew he had blacked it a few days before but I didn’t feel like playing his little memory games.
“What the hell you think happened to it? Never mind, just nothing." I said and continued making my sandwich.
“Oh, ok. Well what do you want to do for our anniversary?"
“Nothing."
“Come on, there has to be something."
“No, nothing."
“Kasey seriously, what is it that you want to do? Or what is it that you want?
I know Christmas will be here soon after but I still want to do something special for you."
He was beginning to aggravate me. Couldn’t he see that this wasn’t a real marriage? That I was only here because I had to be? I was only her because of our child. He had to know that by now and if he didn’t that was his problem, not mine. He slammed his hand against the bar causing me to look back in his direction.