Three's Not A Crowd (Revamp)

Chapter Seventy: [Rebecca III]

    Rebecca now was in her bathroom at the motel, packing her things as she exhaled a bit and rubbed the back of her neck, tilting her head, looking around before taking out her phone and texted Damien.
    "Come over to see me before I go"
    "Let me get dressed and I'll head over now" Damian replied after a little.
    As Rebecca was watching TV to pass the time before Damian got here, which she felt took forever. She was alerted by the sound of a familiar sound of a vehicle came through the parking lot, then shut off near her motel room. She turned, smiling softly as she sat up and put her hands in her lap.
    She listened to two knocks, then "'Becs, it's Damian." She got up and jogged towards the door, unlocking it. She then opened the door with a soft smile, he looked at her, smiling. Damian wore a black dress shirt with tan pants, a black belt, and black work shoes, since he threw them on last minute.
    Rebecca stepped aside, watching him. "Thank you." He said as he walked in, she shut the door and hugged him from behind. Damian lifted his arms, looking down at her and rested his hands on her arms, them lifted her arms, turned around, and hugged her properly.
    "This a goodbye hug?" He rested his chin on her head, arms wrapped around her lower back as she nodded softly, burying her face into hin. He lifted a hand, combing through her hair. "You have my number, don't you?"
    She nodded. "Yeah. . ."
    "Call me, when and if you can, text me. . ." He moved from her and kneeled, kissing under her belly button and stood up. "And keep me updated."
    She looked up at him. "I will. . ."
    There was a sudden pound on the door. The pair looked over, Rebecca flinched, moving closer to him before quickly turning. "Wh —" Damian instinctively moved her behind him, narrowing his eyes.
    It was quiet for a moment before another loud knock
    She went pale, staring at the door. "He didn't find me, did he?"
    "Dear god, I hope not. . ."
    It was indeed Martin, screaming. "Rebecca! Open this fucking door!" Before he tried to open the door.
    She swallowed, gripping his arm. "Fuck. . ."
    "Shit. . ." He stepped back, arm back and holding hers. She stepped back with him.
    "He'll just keep going until he just, gets in."
    "Right. . ."
    Rebecca could hear the jingling off a hundred keys, and knew he pulled a whole ring of keys out. Her heart picked up. He made a copycat key of my key? She could tell by the opening door, he did.
    Damian stared, face bare of expression and body tense, side stepping so he hid most of Rebecca, fists curled. She gripped the back of his shirt, scared shitless.
    Martin opened the door, swinging it open as he went to shout but met Damian's gaze as he scoffed and nodded. "How. . . convenient is this."
    Damian frowned. "Martin."
    "Damian. Where's my wife."
    "Just in the bathroom."
    "Really? Because I see her blonde hair right behind you, fuckface." He clenched his fists as Damian glared, eyeing him. She breathed softly, shaking her head.
    "Unclench those fists, Simmons. We both know you're horrible at fighting, baby-armed fucker." Damian said, Martin glared, clenching his fists more.
    "The fuck did you say to me?"
    She kept shaking her head and looked up at Damian. "Don't. . ." He glanced, looking back to him.
    "Y'know what I said." Damian replied, feeling her grip his arm. Martin opened his hideous worm-lipped mouth.
    Martin walked up to him. "You think since you fuck my wife you get a right to fucking talk to me like that? Who said I was gonna hit you huh?"
    "Oh? We're you planning on hitting Rebecca?" He stared down at Martin. "Try and do that, I dare you, worm-lipped bitch."
    She stepped back away from Damian a bit, reaching to hold both of their arms. "No, stop it."
    Martin glared at him for a moment before grabbing Rebecca and forcefully pushed him away. "Or else what, huh?!" He then pushed her away. She tripped, falling onto her side. Damian almost tripped as well but luckily caught himself.
    Martin then shoved Damian. "Nothing. You aren't doing anything." He glared at him.
    She rubbed her side, making a face before getting up. "Martin, quit!"
    Damian glared back, glancing to Rebecca. "Listen to your wife, for once."
    "You really think I'mma listen to this whore?" He pointed to her. "Fuck no!"
    She stared at him, grabbing Martin's arm and moved him away from Damian. "Just-just stop!"
    Without hesitation, her husband smacked the absolute shit out of her. "Get your filthy hands off of me!" and, without hesitation as well, her old lover socked him in the face. She let go of him, holding her face as she blinked a few times and teared up.
    Martin moved back, stumbling a bit as he touched his lip, sniffing as he nodded before tackling him. Rebecca covered her mouth, going wide eyed. "MARTIN!" Damian stumbled back onto the couch, hands curled as he grabbed onto Martin and shoved him off with a grunt.
    Martin rolled, huffing. "Dickface!"
    She ran over to Damian, moving in between. "Cut it out! This is stupid!" Damian pulled her closer, putting a hand out across her body as he watched Martin, huffing.
    Martin got up, pointing at her. "You're suppose to be my wife! Not his, never his! MINE! I did so much for you and this is how you thank me?!" She stared, breathing shakily as she held to hold Damian's arm. Martin scoffed, glaring at Damian. "You were always a fuckin' problem."
    "You were always the problem, snotty bitch."
    Martin went to go at him again
    She raised her hands. "No! That's enough. Stop this." Damian's free fist curled, huffing as Martin stopped, scowling as he clenched his fist.
    Rebecca teared up more as she shook her head. "It isn't worth it, Martin. What's done is done."
    Martin shook his head. "No it ain't." He went to sock Damian. She moved out of the way, staring. Damian's eyes widen as he moved his head and aimed to do the same, except this time he reached out and grabbed the collar of his shirt, making sure this one landed. Martin grunted, moving his face.
    Martin grabbed his shirt, baring his teeth as he went to hit him again. This one unfortunately landed. Damian's face curled in pain, teeth baring as his eyes narrowed. He lunged his hands for Martin's throat, shoving him to the ground as his hands tightened, a wild fire burning in his eyes as he listened to Martin grunt, gripping his wrists and tried to get him off, choking.
    "STOP!" Rebecca cried.
    Damian growled. "Ohohoho how I've dreamed of this." He lifted a hand and squared a hit to his face as Martin huffed, struggling to breathe as he started kicking.
    She grabbed Damian's arm. "Damian!" She furrowed her eyebrows, tears rolling down her face and only then did he loosen his grip and begin to stand. But Martin used the chance to move, tackling at him.
    Damian grunted, scrambling with his hands to get him off. "You, little insect!" But Martin latched on, baring his teeth more as he hit him.
    She tried to pull Martin off. "Martin! Get, OFF!"
    He elbowed her in the stomach, pushing her back. "Stay out of this!" He yelled as she moved back, holding her stomach as she went wide eyed. Damian exhaled heavy and clutched his wrists, angling his arms and threw him off with force, immediately looking at Rebecca with that same wide-eyed stare, a devastated look.
    He rolled off, huffing as he looked at them and stood, Damian sat up, standing, and she just stared at Martin. Martin wiped his lip, scowling and scoffed. "Had a feeling." Damian looked at Martin as Rebecca exhaled shakily, unable to form words at the moment. He looked at her with a disgusted look as he nodded and made his way towards the door. "I have, all your shit in the car."
    She wiped under her nose, going after him. "Martin. . ." Her voice shook.
    "You either come get it, or I'm leaving it in the street."
    Rebecca grabbed his arm. "Martin, just — let's talk this out. . ." Martin moved her off, leaving the room, but she went after him. "Stop ignoring me!" She furrowed her eyebrows, still going after him.
    Martin walked down the hallway, scowling before grabbing her by the face and pinned her against the wall. He lowered his voice. "I don't ever. . . wanna hear from you, see you OR Oliver, ever again. Do you hear me? So either get your shit. . ." He tightened his grip. "Or I will leave it. . ."
    She stared back at him, holding his wrist as she whispered. "I want a divorce then."
    Her husband examined her face, scowling as he looked down at her stomach then back at her. "I'll mail you the papers."
    She pushed at his hand, trying to get him to let go. "You trying to prove a point or something?"
    Martin glared at her, moving to hold under her jaw as he kept a tight grip onto her. "I don't need to have a point to know you're nothing but a lying bitch."
    She squinted her eyes shut, furrowing her eyebrows as she bared her teeth. "I only lied, so I didn't have to deal with you." She spoke quietly.
    He observed her face, scowling more as he scrunched his face. He squeezed his hand as tight as he could as tears welled into her eyes as she pushed at his chest and went back to a whisper. "You're hurting me. . ."
    He shook his head. "And I really don't care."
    She opened her eyes a bit to look at him, examining his face as she shrunk down a bit. "I hate you. . . so much. . ."
    He scoffed with a soft smile as he nodded. "I see it on your face. I hate that I still love you. Despite everything. It didn't have to end this way, you know?"
    "Don't-don't do that to me." She shook her head, lip quivering. Someone who loves me wouldn't hurt me for years, abusing me sexually, choking me against a wall.
    "But I'm gonna." He tossed her to the ground, looking down at her before kicking her stomach, but before his foot met her stomach, she quickly covered it, curling up. The impact of the kick hit her wrist. He spit beside her, starting to walk.
    She moved her hand, breathing quickly as she clenched her teeth. "Fuck." She whispered, slowly sitting up as she held her wrist. Martin went to his car and started taking her stuff out. Damian walked from her room, looking at Martin as he hurried to help Rebecca up as she held onto him, trying so hard not to cry. He got her onto her feet, watching Martin.
    "Don't worry. . . I called a guy. . ." He whispered. She watched Martin drop all her stuff off onto the cement, lip quivering more. She was conflicted between feeling upset and feeling happy. Martin looked at her, dropping her jewelry box into the pile of clothes as she looked away from him, holding her wrist more. Damian watched, eyes turning as he watched a tinted car slowly drove into the lot and parked near, it never turned off, sitting there. But then the person inside killed the engine, he narrowed his eyes.
    She wiped under her nose, watching Martin just drop her stuff like it was nothing. He tossed down her shoes, glaring at her. "Goodbye, and good riddance." He got into his car.
    Damian looked back at Martin, breathing soft. Rebecca sniffed, putting her head down as Martin backed out, glaring at them before leaving the lot. She watched him leave before moving to her stuff and kneeled, starting to pick it up but stopped to hold her forehead.
    The car started up again, headlights glowing red as it backed, and followed him. The license plate read "Stag1956." and then the car was gone.
    Damian watched, before walking over and began to help her. "You just go back inside, okay?"
    She got up, running her hands through her hair as she headed back inside, tears rolling down her face as she scowled. Something in her was angry at the situation. He piled it up, putting the most vulnerable in between the clothes, and stood. Carefully he followed her.
    Once inside, rubbing her stomach, she knelt at her bed and finally cried into it. He carefully set her stuff down, and shut the door before joining her, pulling her in and hugged her, she leaned into him, holding his arm with her unhurt hand and just cried.