Page 102 of Requiem

I don’t, until he pulls another pair of zip ties from his pocket. “No,” I protest as I try to sit up. “No, not again …”

The punch comes so hard, and so fast, that it knocks me off the bed, onto the opposite side of the room. I’m amazed that I don’t feel the pain at first, just the immense and uncomfortable pressure of his fist against my flesh. What I do feel is the thick slick wetness that’s running down my face. Jeremy makes his way around to where I’m lying, dazed, on the floor. He looks like a giant as he stands over me. A very angry giant. Before I can even finish the idle thought, he delivers a quick, vicious kick to my ribs. I grunt in pain and curl up into a ball on the floor.

“Please,” I cry into my hands. “Please …”

Jeremy bends over and grabs a fistful of my hair. I have no choice but to follow it upward and onto my unsteady legs. When I’m upright again, he takes my right wrist and uses it to pull me back onto the bed and all the way up to the headboard. At this point, I am in too much pain and too stunned to protest, as he uses one of the plastic fasteners to secure it to the wrought iron headboard. In a matter of seconds, the left wrist joins it. Then he is leaning over me, his face only a couple of inches from mine.

“Beg and plead all you want, you stupid cunt. All you’re succeeding in doing is giving me a hard-on. I’d kick that fucking thing out of you right now, but I don’t want to deal with all the blood while I’m screwing you.”

He runs a hand over my rapidly swelling cheek and then holds it up so I can see the bloody smudge on his fingers.

“See that, Jules? If you think that’s a sticky, painful mess, just wait until you feel your baby leaking out of you,” he taunts softly with a smile that sickens me. “You know, I was going to wait until later, but I’m thinking maybe we should take advantage of this big old bed right now. What do you think?” He’s patting the mattress next to me. “Hmmm? Still think rape is a little too common for me?”

I turn my face away from him and he straightens up with a chuckle.

“Uh-huh. That’s what I thought. I’m going to get another drink, and while I’m gone, I want you to think about how badly I’m about to hurt you. Just wait and see what I can do when I really put my mind to it.”

I still have my face turned away from him when he leaves the room, whistling a Mozart horn concerto as he moves into the hallway and down the stairs.

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