no control

• fifty one •

gladys

The first thing I noticed was the lingering soreness of my thighs and pelvis. Grimacing, I stretched through the pain.

My right hand searched through the sheets. At finding only coolness, I leaned over and reached further.

The emptiness struck me and I frowned. My eyes reluctantly peeled open to look around. Elijah wasn't in bed.

His side was stone cold, as though he hadn't been here for awhile. I didn't hear him moving around in the bathroom either.

I sat up and instantly gasped at the spasm of pain in my thighs. Gritting my teeth, I threw the covers off of me. My breath caught.

My abdomen and thighs were littered with hickeys and bruises. The man did a toll on my body last night.

As soon as I agreed to marry him, it was like a switch flipped. He took me again in the bed a few times, then against the vanity in the bathroom, and twice more in the kitchen. I couldn't escape his massive cock or greedy fingers or ravenous lips.

And because I was a little fucked in the head, I loved it. Each mark on my body felt like some kind of trophy.

I was officially de-virginized and well-fucked.

Despite the pain radiating through my lower half, I limped to the bathroom and did my business. I noticed there were two gel pills on the end table by my phome and realized Elijah must have put them there for me.

Smiling a little, I swallowed them down with water and then checked my phone.

There were two texts. The most recent one was from Elijah about an hour ago at 7 AM.

ELIJAH: Good morning, baby. I'm sorry I had to run out, work emergency. I hope to be back before you wake, but if I'm not, I'll be home soon. Take the pain relievers on the nightstand.

I glanced at the nightstand and saw a cup of water and two pills waiting for me. That was thoughtful of him. Still, I found myself sad he wasn't here.

Weren't we supposed to wake up and cuddle and make breakfast together? What kind of accountant has work emergencies on a Sunday morning, anyway?

Tossing the pills down my throat, I decided this emergency probably had more to do with his extracurricular investments than his day job. Before I could ponder further on that, my attention was quickly diverted to the other text I received at 4 PM last night, shortly after the graduation ceremony.

It was from Uncle Ben's new contact number.

UNCLE BEN: Call me when you're alone. ASAP.

I frowned. That didn't sound good. Maybe the police had a lead on Bernice's case?

Clearing my throat, I called him. It rang once before he picked up.

"Gladys," he said, sounding breathless. "Where are you?"

I blinked. "Hi, Uncle Ben. I'm at home. What's up?"

"'Home' being Elijah Zare's residence?"

My lips turned down again. "Yes. What's wrong?"