"TONY!"
My body trembled and shuddered, but I could move my hands only a tiny bit because his strong arms were holding me like vises. He pressed forward, driving himself firmly between my legs and then using his thighs to push mine apart.
"You must understand . . . I'm responsible . . please, don't fight me. Let me show you . . teach you . . ."
"STOP," I cried one final time, but it was a futile cry. He forced upon me what should only have been given in love. His thrust was hard and accurate, opening me to him. A hot, searing pain came and went. I felt myself go dizzy and faint. Perhaps I did faint for a few moments. My body was totally at his command; moving as he moved. For a moment I felt detached from it, my head falling back against the pillow, the rest of me beneath him. He was doing what he wanted. In his own mind he was sculpting me in another way.
My cries were as tiny as a doll's cries. I bit down on my lower lip and tried to endure, The heat rose from my legs and stomach in continuous, rhythmic waves, traveling higher and higher until it overwhelmed me. I thought I was sinking into the bed beneath him.
Finally, he loosened his hold around my arms and torso and brought his fingers to my lips and cheeks, following them with his own lips.
"Do you see? Do you feel it and understand the power? Now, I have turned you into a woman," he claimed. "I have completed my greatest work of art, made you into a living portrait doll."
I moaned, swallowing my cries. My cheeks were wet with tears. I kept my eyes shut tight. I felt his lips press down on them softly and then felt him kiss my lips. After a long moment of silence, he lifted himself away. I dared not speak or move for fear he would return. I heard him sigh deeply before I felt his finger trace a line between my breasts and down my stomach. He kept it there for a moment.
Then he murmured, "My portrait doll. Sleep well."
I heard his departing footsteps and opened my eyes just as he passed through my doorway and out. The moment the door closed, my tears burst forth and my shoulders shook. I embraced my naked body and sobbed. Finally, I sat up. I stared through the darkness in disbelief, questioning what had happened. Maybe it was only a nightmare. I wanted to deny it, but my body, still trembling from his kisses and his violation, would not permit me to ignore or pretend.
What would I do? Whom would I run to? Momma was still away. My father was off with his new wife building a business. There were only servants here and little Troy. I got out of bed and went to the bathroom, bracing myself against the wall as I went along. I put on the light and gazed at myself in the full-length mirror. My face was streaked with tears and beet red. My neck and shoulders were blotchy from his forced kisses and caresses. The sight of myself this way hammered home what had happened. I grew dizzy again and had to sit down.
I thought about calling Jennifer or Joshua, but I was too ashamed. What would I say? What could either of them do anyway? I had no one but myself. I had to come to my own aid. Finally, after a series of deep breaths, I was able to stand up again. I put out the light and returned to bed. What else could I do? I couldn't go ranting and raving through the halls of Farthy.
I reached for Angel. She looked shocked, saddened. I held her in my arms and pressed her to me, searching for the comfort I needed so desperately. Ironically, the doll Tony created was here to soothe me after the terrible thing he had done. But there was more of myself in this doll than there was of him, I thought. And now she despised him as much as I did.
"Oh Angel, we have only each other. Tony was right about one thing . . we are both portrait dolls."
I closed my eyes and let sleep take me back into its arms and turn me away from this hard and shocking world.
The warm sunlight caressed my face and tugged my eyes open. I blinked rapidly, focusing in on where I was and what had happened in this room the night before. When I sat up, I somehow expected everything to be in disarray, expected the world to be as topsy-turvy as I was; but nothing was changed around me. Everything in the room was as neat and orderly as it had been. The sunlight was beaming cheerfully through my windows. Even Angel looked bright and restored.
Had it all been a nightmare? I looked down at myself as if there would be some evidence. My arms were sore where Tony had clamped them against my body in his viselike grip and my thighs ached, but other than that, there were no telltale scars or marks of his passion. Yet I felt that all the scars were within me. It had been no nightmare.
I rose slowly and sat for a while on my bed, wondering what I would do. I would run off to join Daddy if I knew where he was, I thought; but he could be halfway across the world by now for all I knew. I decided to shower and dress. I didn't want to go do
wnstairs and confront Tony, but I couldn't remain in my suite all day. I supposed I could claim to be ill and have my meals brought up, but it would only bring him in here too, I thought, and there would still be a confrontation.
Besides, I wasn't up and around for more than ten minutes before I heard Troy at my door. He was here to remind me of promises I had made to him the day before, promises concerning things we would do together. I turned my face from him when he spoke, afraid he would see the horror and the terror in my eyes and be frightened by them. But he was too excited about our proposed activities to notice anything.
"You said you would go to the beach with me today, Leigh. Can we go right after breakfast? Can we? Please? We can look for seashells."
"All right," I said. "Just let me shower and dress. Go down and start your breakfast."
"Tony's already downstairs," he said.
"Good?' I thought perhaps Tony would eat and be gone by the time I arrived, so I took my time showering and dressing. It looked like it was going to be a very warm day, so I decided to put on a pair of shorts and a short-sleeve blouse for my walk to the beach with Troy.
Unfortunately, when I arrived at the dining room, Tony was still sitting there reading his Wall Street Journal and sipping coffee. My heart skipped a beat when he lowered the paper to look at me. I gazed at him with as much fury in my eyes as I could muster, but he didn't seem to see it. He smiled brightly.
"Good morning, Leigh. It's going to be a beautiful day. Troy tells me you and he are going for a walk on the beach. I might just come along."
I looked at Troy. He was drilling half a grapefruit with his fork. His nurse reminded him not to play with his food. Without saying a word, I took my seat. The maid poured me my orange juice immediately. I glanced at Tony and saw how he was still smiling and watching me. His hair was neatly brushed and he wore a white and blue short-sleeve shirt and a pair of light blue slacks. He looked so chipper and well rested.
How could he be this way? I thought. Did he think I would just forget what he had done? Did he think by his pretending nothing was wrong and nothing was different, he could get away with it? Surely, he must expect I was going to tell my mother everything. She would want to divorce him and we would leave this place.
But he didn't act the least bit concerned. He folded his paper neatly and sipped his coffee.
"Troy's putting away a good breakfast this morning because he knows he needs energy if he's going to do all the things he plans to do with you today, Leigh," Tony said and winked. "Right, Troy?"