Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 90778 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90778 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Neither of us speaks and the driver pulls away. The quiet hum of the tires on the tarmac fills the terrible space between us. I keep my gaze fixed out the window, watching the lights pass in a kaleidoscope of colors. Earl doesn’t speak, but I can feel his presence like a gravitational pull, drawing every ounce of my attention despite my best efforts to resist.
“You’re quiet,” he notes.
My fingers tighten on the hem of my dress as I struggle to find the right words. Anger simmers beneath the surface, but it’s tangled with hurt and pain.
“What do you want me to say, Earl?” I ask, finally turning around to face him. “That I’m thrilled you kept me waiting while you entertained Annabelle?”
“I’m sorry, but I think you’re under the mistaken impression,” Earl says, his voice smooth but laced with venom, “that you somehow have the right to dictate my actions. Or to speak to me in the way you are doing now.” He shifts slightly, turning to face me fully, his expression a mask of calculated detachment. “I can talk to whoever I want. And if I wanted to take Annabelle up on her offer, go up to her hotel room, and fuck her—then I could. And you wouldn’t get to say a word about it.”
I feel the blood drain from my face. My chest tightens, a sharp ache blooming in my ribs as his words echo in my mind. If I wanted to. If I wanted to. The sheer audacity and cruelty of him makes tears burn into my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. Not in front of him.
But Earl is not finished. His voice is low, almost mocking. “So don’t sit there, bitch and whine, acting like you own me. You don’t own me. I own you. Don’t forget what this is, Raven. Don’t forget what you are to me.”
The tears spill over before I can stop them. Hot, humiliating streaks down my cheeks that hurt my heart. If the car wasn’t already moving, I would have thrown the door open and walked into the night.
But instead, I sit there, silent, my hands trembling in my lap, speechless with shock, sorrow, and pain. To be so humiliated, so degraded …
I want to tell him he’s wrong, that he’s cruel, that he’s causing an irreparable rift between us, but the words lodge in my throat. What is the use? I’ve tried everything and nothing works. Sure, it’s good for a tiny bit, while we’re having sex, but almost immediately afterwards he morphs into a heartless monster again. I swallow the lump in my throat and stare out the window.
By the time the car pulls up to the house, my anger has hardened into something colder. If this is what he wants, if he wants this relationship to be devoid of intimacy, of even basic decency, then that’s exactly what he’ll get.
The chauffeur opens my door, and I step out and throw his jacket back into the back seat of the car. Rain has begun to fall. It’s light but steady, the drops soaking into my hair and dress as I walk calmly toward the front door.
I’ve only taken a few steps when I feel it—a strong hand clamping down on my arm, spinning me around.
“Let me go!” I yell, twisting in his grip.
Earl’s face is inches from mine, his expression thunderous. “Raven,” he snaps, his face white with fury. “You don’t just walk away from me like that.”
“Leave me alone, Earl,” I spit, yanking my arm free, but he’s stronger. His fingers tighten, not enough to hurt, but enough to keep me there.
“Are you out of your mind?” I hiss, trying to shake him off again. “Let me go, Earl. Right now!”
Nora appears at the open doorway, her eyes widening in concern as she takes in the sight of us.
“Mrs. Jackson, are you alright?” she asks, her voice tentative.
“Well? Am I alright?” I ask Earl taunting.
Earl’s gaze snaps to Nora like a whip. “Leave,” he commands, his voice sharp enough to make her flinch.
But to her credit, she doesn’t leave. “Mrs. Jackson,” she calls again courageously. “Are you alright?”
Her voice carries distress and it makes me feel ashamed of myself for involving her. I turn my head towards her and flash her a smile.
“I’m fine,” I say.
Nora hesitates, her hands clasped nervously in front of her.
“You can go now. Thanks, Nora.”
She nods and disappears into the house.
His grip falters for that split second, and at that moment, I wrench my arm free. My chest heaves as I take a step back, my eyes never leaving his. My heart pounds in my chest, a mix of anger, pain, and something dangerously close to regret. I see it now. How naïve I was to think I could make it work. It is hopeless.