I immediately jumped up, searching the room for something, anything that would get me out of here. Back to Lexie. Back to Zane. Back to my family. My search was in vain, finding only a walk-in closet and a fancy bathroom. Neither with weapons or exits. But what they did have disturbed me. Clothes. Racks of them, all designer, all beautiful. All in my size. Same with the shoes. The bathroom held all of the toiletries I used, down to the right foundation shade. I shivered. He had been planning this. Not only that, he had been in my house. They only thing that kept me from crawling into a panic ball in the corner of the room was that he didn’t have Lexie. I hoped she had gone to Zane by now, that he would protect her. I knew he would try and find me, that the club would try. But I also knew Sid. He was dangerous before, but now with the money obviously had come more power. I was back in the hell I had escaped from sixteen years ago.
Sixteen Years Ago
“You were staring at him,” Sid shot at me with venom in his tone. Venom I didn’t recognize or understand.
I looked at him from the stove in confusion. “Who?” I asked, keeping an eye on the dinner I was cooking.
“You know who, don’t play fucking dumb,” Sid answered quietly, glaring at me.
I swallowed at his tone, at the look on his face. I hadn’t seen it before. He’d always been loving, doting. Since he found out about the baby he had been more so. The way he looked at me on our wedding day had me thinking I was the luckiest girl in the world. It wasn’t like it was much, just a ceremony at town hall with his parents in attendance, but it was all we needed. It had been a month of happiness, of something I thought I’d never get. But things were slowly changing. The more my belly grew the more over the top Sid got. I thought he was just being protective, with him starting a new business, helping his family, trying to be a good husband. But it was more than that. He wouldn’t let me go anywhere unless he approved it. The few friends I had hadn’t heard from me in weeks. The only people I saw were people he deemed it okay to see. Business associates. His family. He told me my place was with them. I didn’t know how a real family worked, so I had guessed this was how all husbands were when their wives were pregnant. He was still young, only eighteen, and he had a lot on his mind. So I didn’t say anything, didn’t argue. I instead treasured the time I had with his mother, who treated me like a daughter. I got ready for our baby’s arrival, painting and decorating the nursery, reading baby books. I was excited for our checkup the next day, where they could tell the sex. Sid wanted a boy, but I secretly wanted a little girl.
So this anger, this venom, it caught me off guard. “No, honey I don’t,” I told him honestly. I stirred the food, anxious not to burn it. I was a decent cook, but I wasn’t used to having an entire pantry full of food to cook with. It was exciting, but Sid was getting more and more picky about what I cooked. He was particular, wanted me to be the best wife. I didn’t mind. But it just meant I didn’t want to burn this dinner, especially when he was already like this.
Suddenly, Sid was right in front of me, grabbing my wrist roughly. I dropped the spoon in surprise and cried out from the pain.
“You know exactly who I’m talking about, you little bitch,” he spat, his eyes turning blank, like there was nothing behind them.
I struggled not to cry, the pressure on my wrist coupled with the look in his eyes terrifying me. “I promise I don’t,” I cried. “You’re hurting me.”
Sid yanked me to his chest. “Johnny,” he hissed. “Don’t think I didn’t see you following him with your eyes the whole fuckin’ afternoon.”
My eyes bulged. “But Johnny’s your brother, I was never even…” my protests were cut short with a backhand to the face. The impact, plus the pain caused me to fall to the floor. I cradled my belly with one hand while pressing my palm against my stinging cheek with the other. I stared at him in horror. I had never known violence before. My parents might have been pieces of shit, but they never hurt me. Not with their fists anyway. Now the boy I loved, thought loved me, was responsible for not only the stinging pain in my cheek, but the small crack in my heart.
Sid’s face suddenly changed. He gazed down at me in horror, looking at his hand like it didn’t belong to him. He knelt beside me and I flinched. “Button, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. Jesus,” he muttered in despair. “Is the baby okay?” he asked urgently, gently pulling me to my feet, pressing lightly on my belly with both hands.
And that’s what it was like; he would turn, without warning. Over silly things, sometimes things he imagined, like me laughing at one of his friend’s jokes too hard. Or putting capers in a meal when he hated them. Using the wrong fabric softener. It could be anything. Sometimes it was only words. Yelling, screaming, horrible, vile insults. Other times it was his fists. He was careful to only hit my face, and when he marked it he wouldn’t let me leave the house until the evidence was gone. Slowly, with poisonous words and physical abuse, he battered me into a shell. I had been a vulnerable teenager, desperate for a family, for love. He capitalized on that and turned me into a shell of whatever I had been before. I have no idea how I didn’t lose Lexie; he seemed to avoid hitting my torso, even in his rage. That gave me stupid teenage hope, hope that he still loved me. Might stop hurting me. Or that he’d never hurt our daughter. That was the only thought I clung to. Leaving was not an option for me. I had nothing. No one. No family, no money and no friends thanks to Sid. So I just had to pray that it was temporary. Had to send all my love to the only thing that got me through that horrible time, the little girl in my belly.