Keep Me

by Faith Andrews

  “You belong to me, Tessa. I’m your husband and you’ve been acting like a whore this whole fucking time while I was working on getting better. You wanna be a whore? You deceitful, lying cunt—I’m gonna treat you like a whore.”

  I smelled the alcohol on his breath, felt the spit from his words as they flew out of his disgusting, hateful mouth. There were no more tears, I was drained, numb. It was over—everything was taken from me. I only pleaded with God that he would have mercy on my son.

  “Please, Zack. Please let me see our son.”

  “Our son?” he groused in my ear as if the word repulsed him. “He doesn’t even fucking know me. You made sure of that, you conniving bitch. The minute you got pregnant with that kid you were done for—he’ll always be in the way and when I’m done showing you that you’re mine again, I’ll shut him up and get rid of him, too.”

  He sounded deranged. His words, his plans—it was all so much more than frightening, more than terrifying—it was paralyzing.

  I wilted in his arms, helplessly stunned. If I couldn’t fight for myself I needed to fight for Luca but I was frozen, unable to move one single petrified muscle. Finding a single thread of strength, I encouraged myself to struggle. My brain told my body to do something, but it just wasn’t happening. His berating words—whore seemed to be the favorite—all jumbled together like incoherent ramblings. But when he started to speak about harming my son, the only thing I had left to live for—especially if Zack had succeeded in taking Marcus from me—a prevailing energy coursed through my veins, empowering me to take back what was once mine.

  “No!” I shouted, my elbow impaling him hard in his groin. “You can’t take my son! You won’t hurt him!” I bolted for the stairs, but even though his face was contorted in pain, Zack lunged for me, grabbing my leg at the ankle.

  I stumbled forward, my cheekbone hitting one of the steps, the impact causing me to whimper. He took advantage of my momentary weakness and dragged me down the few steps I’d managed to climb, trying to escape.

  “You won’t get away from me this time, Tessa. I told you, you’re mine.”

  “I’ll never be yours,” I spat in his face from the floor. “You disgust me! You’re a fucking monster.”

  He jerked me up to him again, this time by my sweater, the anger in his eyes ferocious. When I looked into them I knew I didn’t have a fighting chance—I wasn’t facing a sane individual. He’d passed that point a long time ago. So I did the only thing I could to aid my cause. I screamed.

  “HELP! HELP!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. “Please someone help me!”

  He wound up and slapped me hard across the face. “Shut the fuck up,” he roared, “The next time you try something like that, I use this.” He waved the gun wildly, warning me.

  I held my free hand to my cheek, the stinging ache bringing on more tears. Staring at the gun as it swayed in his hands, my brain started to shut down all lucid reasoning. What was I going to do? There was nothing I could do. Couldn’t anyone hear me? Please, God. Please let someone save us.

  Without another word, he dug the barrel of the gun between the blades of my shoulders and ordered me to march upstairs. “Time to take back what’s mine. I’ve been waiting too long.”

  “No,” I cried, shaking my head frantically, but it was only a whisper. He wouldn’t shoot me. He wanted me alive—it was more about the torture with him, showing me who was boss. He didn’t want me dead, he just wanted to own me.

  “No?” he laughed maniacally. “You really are a brave one.” I felt the stabbing of the gun gone from my back, but then new suffering ensued as he dragged me up the stairs by my arm like a rag doll.

  “Stop! Please stop. I’ll go willingly. You’re hurting me.” How many times had I used that phrase in hopes he’d stop his torture and show some mercy on the woman he supposedly loved? It was futile, but I had to try.

  “Good. You deserve to be hurt. Just like you’ve hurt me. Maybe now you’ll learn your fucking lesson.”

  He continued dragging me up the stairs, as my sweater rode up and the bare skin of my stomach scraped and burned with the friction of the carpet covering the stairs. Why was this happening to me? Why did I deserve this? I was just getting my life back. I was finally happy. That was all a distant memory right now as I was being hauled off to my demise.

  When we made it to my bedroom, I realized amongst all the insanity taking place that Luca’s crying finally subsided. I’d give anything just to make sure he was okay, asleep, oblivious to the horror around him. My arm darted out in the direction of his room. “Please let me check on him?” I sobbed, my voice barely audible. Please show me there is actually a human left underneath all that monstrous hate.

  “No,” was all he said, as he lifted me to my feet and shoved me into my bedroom. “And don’t think of screaming again. I want you to feel me inside you, your delicious body stroking mine the way it used to—but if you scream again, I’ll knock you out and fuck you anyway. It’s been too long since that pussy’s been mine. I’ll have it one way or another.”

  The last shred of dignity, of hope, I had left in my weakened body vanished with his words. This was it. Not only had he tormented my son, beat me ‘til I bled, and possibly murdered my best friend and the love of my life, but now he was going to do something that would haunt me for the rest of my life—ruin any chance I had at being normal again. I never imagined that Zack, the man I once loved, was capable of the crimes he committed here tonight.

  “Don’t do this, Zack. It doesn’t have to be like this,” I begged, my thoughts becoming foggy, my body checking out of this reality.

  “Too late. You’ve given me no choice. I called and you ignored me, changed your number and pretended I didn’t exist. I’ve been watching you for a while now… whoring around with your new man. Quite honestly, it’s appalling… a married woman, a mother, fucking a lowlife out in public so everyone can see. He took what’s mine—now I’m taking it back.”

  I didn’t have time to think how he knew about Marcus and me, or to decipher when or how he’d seen us together. My body tensed as he lurched forward, tugging my pants down and ripping my panties from my skin. I trembled beneath his ruthless touch, my skin prickled with fear. For a moment, I left my body as an empty shell, wishing it away, drowning it all out.

  He pinned me to the bed, the gun jutting hard into my neck, his free hand finding my opening and working in and out of me, too fast, too rough. Tears spilled from my eyes as I succumbed to his will, becoming a victim yet again. I contemplated begging again, but knew it would do no good. It would only fuel his mission; fighting back always drove him further.

  And what went beyond rape? Murder? I couldn’t let him kill me and leave Luca alone in his care. I had to submit, I told myself it would all be over soon and that at some point I’d find a way to escape.

  With the gun digging into the already bruised skin at my neck, and his lips creeping across my skin sloppily, I sunk into the bed, into a daze, imagining a beautiful alternative to this nightmare. Even through the deafening pounding of blood in my ears, I heard him unzip his pants. How had it come to this? I guess I never knew the severity of his sickness. Maybe it was all my fault for not getting him help sooner. Maybe there was still hope?

  “Zack, baby,” my voice quaked as I nearly choked on the endearment. It was my last prospect of preventing him from going any further. “Please don’t do this. We can talk. We can work it out.”

  His body tensed. For a fleeting moment I believed I made a breakthrough—my trick worked, I could almost breathe again. But then I felt the blow to my head, the grip of the gun banging against my temple. I instantly felt dizzy; dread overcame me as I feared I would black out and never wake, never see my son again. I blinked hard, fighting past the blackness that threatened to take over. Swallowing the bile that rose in my throat, I caught a glimpse of Zack through bloody vision. “You’re a fucking liar. I’m not an asshole, Tessa. Don’t lie to me! Just shut the fuck up!”
/>
  I lay still and silent, afraid to goad him further. There wasn’t much more I could take. I felt broken all over again, but this time even if I survived, I would always feel dead inside.

  His eyes turned from heated with hate and fury to burning with lust and desire. Only someone as sick as he was could find a way to partner the two opposing emotions.

  I felt the tip of his erection on my bare thigh and watched as his hand traveled down my quivering body to ease himself between my legs.

  “Don’t fight me, Tessa,” he growled when I instinctively locked my legs together, denying him entrance. Angered by my defiance, he reprimanded, “Now, we do it my way.”

  My hands gripped fistfuls of sheets, my head swaying back and forth. “Noooo!” I screamed as he dug his fingers into my thighs. Yanking my legs apart, he spread them open and pinned them down. “Please don’t do this,” I wailed. “I’m begging you. Please.”

  He ignored my desperate pleas as he positioned himself between my thighs, pushing the tip of his erection against my folds.

  I looked at him one last time before he entered me. In the final, desperate moment before he violated me, and I knew I must be delusional from the trauma because I could swear I saw Marcus in the shadows. I love you, baby. I thought to myself. I just have to get through this and I’ll find my way back to you again. I promise.

  “Get the fuck off her!” I heard and I knew then that I was saved. Marcus. He was real, he was alive and he was saving me from this nightmare.

  I blinked, still in disbelief, and felt the weight of Zack’s body vanish. Two large hands tightened around Zack’s neck and his bloodshot eyes widened with fear and shock. I turned my head away, terrified to watch what I knew Marcus would surely do. My eyes clenched shut and I waited and listened. But listening was worse than watching. As much as I wanted Marcus to put an end to Zack, I didn’t want him carrying the weight of taking someone’s life.

  There were no sounds of a struggle, only gurgles and gags, but when I felt a body drop at the foot of the bed, I knew it was over. I prayed that when I opened my eyes again it would be Marcus who had prevailed, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it, my body in some form of traumatic shock.

  “Tessa,” Marcus finally spoke. “Look at me.”

  Thank you, God.

  My own tears choked me, my unwavering sobs shook me, and my head felt like it would explode from the injuries and the insanity of the last—I didn’t know how long. I wanted to speak, to open my eyes, but I was immobile.

  “Tessa!” His familiar, loving hands gripped my shoulders, jostling me gently. “Baby, you’re okay. It’s over,” he cried. “Please look at me. Please, baby. I need you to look at me.”

  But I couldn’t. I was relieved the ordeal was over, but the memories, the physical, mental and visual reminders would disturb me forever. For a brief moment, I regained a vague sense of logic, and remembered my son. “Luca,” I managed to croak out.

  Marcus sprang from the bed where he sat next to me, and I felt a breeze whoosh past me as he ran out of the room to check on Luca. What a pitiful excuse for a mother I was, letting someone else assess my own son’s damage. Instead of running in there myself to hold him and tell him I would never leave him again, I was bound to this bed, paralyzed by the fear I allowed to creep back into my bones.

  I felt the breeze again as Marcus’s warm body returned to my side. “He’s perfect, baby. As if nothing happened. He’s asleep and unharmed and just… perfect.”

  “Oh thank God.” I wailed. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if something had happened to him. “And what about… him?” I nodded in the direction of my assailant. I needed to know Zack wasn’t about to make one of those horror movie comebacks.

  His body lay lifeless. He was out cold—I wondered if Marcus had…

  “He’s breathing. Unconscious, but still fucking alive.” Marcus clenched his jaw as he stared at the body, giving him one final kick that sent him off the bed with a loud thud.

  I shouldn’t care that he was alive, but at least Marcus wouldn’t have to live with Zack’s blood on his hands. Did this really just happen? How the hell was this my life? I covered my face with my hands, bawling into my palms, flinching in pain when I grazed my swollen flesh.

  “Let me see,” Marcus insisted, as he removed my hands from my face. He grumbled something inaudible, finally pressing a kiss over the wound. “Help is on the way. Everyone’s going to be fine. I promise you. I will never let anyone hurt you again.” He leaned down to kiss me again and then let out a guttural groan. “Fuck!” He gripped his side and when he removed his hands, a shiny liquid glistened in the dim lighting.

  “Marcus! You’re bleeding!” All I could focus on was the red blood staining his hands. “You’re—” and then I remembered, “Oh my God, Riley! Is she okay? Are you—” I started to shake again, unable to control all the emotions rattling through me. I felt shattered, broken, torn apart at the seams. Would anything ever be normal again?

  “I’m… fine,” he winced. “And Riley…” he stammered, pausing, “she’ll be fine too. Her head—he must have… Fuck!” he screamed again, his face scrunched up in agony. As if I hadn’t gone through enough in one night, watching Marcus suffer—it was unbearable.

  I inched up, fighting past the throbbing in my skull and the fear of just—breathing again. I ached to reach out to him, to comfort him and alleviate his pain and when I finally gained the courage to do it, I feared I was too late.

  Clutching his bullet wound, his eyes rolled to the back of his head—his expression vacant and his color completely drained. Right before my eyes, he seemed to just slip away. “Marcus!” I screamed, panicking. “Marcus, wake up! Please! Someone, please help us!”

  Beeping … bright lights … white coats … PAIN! Where the hell was I? And why was I in excruciating pain?

  “Marcus? Oh thank God. Nurse! He’s awake!” There was a lot of commotion, poking and prodding, but Tessa’s voice was all I heard over all the fuss.

  I blinked a few times, adjusting to the lights. The hospital. I’m in the hospital. When my blurry eyes finally came into focus, she was there. “Hi,” I said, smiling as a nurse clamped something around my arm.

  “Hi,” she said back, a tear falling from her bruised face. Zack. I was shot, and Tessa was almost—I couldn’t even think about it without seeing red. I would never get that vision of her helpless body cowering beneath his. She’s safe now. I can keep her safe. Her wounds were now cleaned and bandaged, but she was still a disheveled mess. A beautiful disheveled mess.

  The two of us stared at each other, taking inventory of the other. Memories came flooding back of the horror scene that took place back at her house, but I was grateful just to be here with her again. We remained silent as the staff adjusted IVs and messed around with the wires attached to my body. “How long was I out?” I wondered because it felt like days and mere minutes at the same time.

  “Too long,” she spoke, her hand at my cheek.

  I reached up to hold it in place, savoring her touch. Ignoring the pain that spread as I moved, I inched up on the bed. There were too many strangers in this room, evaluating us, imposing on our moment. “Can we be alone?” I said in the most authoritative tone I could manage, feeling broken and pitiful in this sorry excuse for a hospital gown.

  One elderly nurse nodded, and the rest scattered and scurried off. Guess she was the Queen Bee around here. “Mr. Grayson, visiting hours are almost over and you need your rest. The doctors will be in soon to discuss your plan for recovery, so I suggest you make this quick.”

  I was tempted to say ‘Yes, Nurse Ratchet,’ but instead I smiled and nodded. I didn’t know the details of how, but they were responsible for patching me back together. They were responsible for the gift in front of me.

  Finally alone. I cupped Tessa’s face, searching the depth of her eyes for truth. “Are you okay?” I knew the answer without hearing her speak it. There
was no way she could be okay after what went down. We were nearly killed and she was—the thought of that bastard forcing himself on her, my sweet, innocent pretty girl, it made me sick to my stomach. I should have been there to protect her, but my love wasn’t enough to shield her from Zack’s hate. It made me feel like less of a man. It made me wish I killed the sick son of a bitch when I had the chance.

  “I’m okay now,” she spoke softly. “Now that I’m here with you.”

  I knew what she meant, but her words only went skin deep. She was shattered and it was going to take time and dedication to get back to that perfect place. That place we were in right before the start of the darkest night in both our lives. How could one of the best nights of my life turn into something I wish I could erase from both our minds forever?

  The pads of my thumbs caressed the marred skin of her face, sensing the brave act she was putting on for me. “Tessa, I know you’re fucked up. It’s okay to be fucked up. Don’t you dare think you need to be strong for me. We’ll get through this. I’ll make it go away. I’ll help you forget. We can do it together—erase all the pain and move on. Before all this we were happy, ready for forever. Let’s not let him take that away.”

  Her eyes left mine, her body trembling as she cried. “I’m sorry, Marcus. I’m so, so sorry.”

  I gently turned her face so our eyes met again. It killed me to see her so hurt, so destroyed. Tears stung at the back of my own eyes—I just wanted the woman I loved. She was in there somewhere. “You have nothing to be sorry about. Nothing, you hear me?”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, her bottom lip quivering.

  “Open your eyes, pretty girl. Please? Let me back in.”

  It felt as if each second were an hour as I waited for something—anything—to tell me she wasn’t completely lost. When she finally opened her eyes, there was a tiny glimmer of hope—the spark that made me fall for her in the first place. She swallowed back the last of her tears, and gripped my hand. “Thank you for saving me, Marcus. Thank you for being everything I never knew I needed. When you walked back into my life, there was something missing, but I just didn’t know it. I never could have imagined it was you, but—it’s you, baby. You make me whole again and with you, I know that everything will be okay.”