Running Scared

Chapter 6:

 I woke up sore from the previous day. Blood pulsed beneath the bruises his hands left. I sat up carefully and it quickly dawned on me that I was wearing nothing. I frantically searched for any sort of clothes to cover up my body. Neatly laid across the foot of the bed was my favorite sundress. How the hell did that get here? Despite questioning it, I grabbed it and quickly pulled it over my head.

I darted to the vanity and grabbed the white hair brush that was sitting there. I yanked the bristles through the knots in my hair and when they were all gone, I was satisfied. There were no sounds that I could hear through the door, so I ran out to the hallway. I made it to the living room without being noticed so I looked around for the kitchen.

The living room was gorgeous: there was a wall of windows on the east wall, and a balcony that walked straight down to the beach. The kitchen shared the space with the living room on the north wall. The island counters pointed at the living room so if you sat in the chairs and turned around you could still be apart of the get together. The kitchen itself was small and simple with just the necessities. I cautiously walked to the fridge and I almost made it before a voice stopped me.

“Hungry?”

I slumped, defeated. “Yes.”

“Why didn't you just say so?” James walked up behind me and wrapped his arms around me.

“I can get my own food,” I snapped.

“What did I say yesterday?” he growled in my ear.

I kept my hold and glared at the refrigerator.

“You listen to me. Got it?”

I nodded and reached for the handle. He slapped it away. “Ah, ah, ah. You don't need to make your own food. Mike can bring us food.”

“What if I want to make my own food?” I countered daringly.

“Mike will bring us food.” Apparently that was the end of the conversation because he walked away and muttered something into his cell phone before reappearing. “How's sandwiches? I know what you like,” he smiled.

“Right, cuz you stalked me into the restaurant the other day.”

“I never did that.”

“Okay...”

Anger flared in his eyes before he retained it. “Why don't you go make your room... homey? I brought some of your clothes. Not enough but we'll get you more if you desire.”

I nodded again and walked back down the hallway to that dreaded room. Inside the tiny walk-in closet, my suitcases laid open with clothes jammed in. I groaned and got down on my knees to pull the clothes out before they wrinkled. Busy hanging clothes and putting the shoes on the shoe rack when James walked in. I didn't realize he was there until I was finished and I was rolling my suitcases back.

“It looks nice in here.” His voice startled me.

“Yeah, like my closet at home. Exactly... like it.”

He took a few steps towards me and pulled me in for a kiss. Without breaking the kiss he pulled me towards the bed. He stopped us in front of it and he ran his hands down the length of my body, stopping at my butt. He gave it a little slap and I jumped back a foot and slapped him. He slapped me back twice as hard.

Angrily, I turned away and ran into the closet and slamming the door shut behind me. My only response was to run. Never in my life had I been hit. No way that bastard gets to hit me. No freaking way.

“Open this door!” He yelled.

“No!”

“Open the damn door!” He started to bang and my body slammed against the door.