Page 2 of Sin

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“I would like to have your attention, please.” Tyson’s voice flows out over the speakers. “As you know, Redding Oil is proud of the foundations it supports, but out of them all, the Redding’s Women’s Shelter is by far the most important. We believe it’s crucial for women and children to always feel safe in their environment, in their life and sometimes, that’s not always possible. We at Redding Oil believe in fresh starts, and we honor that by providing what the Redding’s Women’s Shelter of Forth Worth needs to make the dreams of many women come true.”

I stand listening to Tyson speak. I know his parents, who are next to me, aren’t paying attention to a thing their son is saying, speaking in hushed voices to one of their many friends. He does know how to address a crowd, that’s for sure. Women are staring at him like he's the next big thing, and maybe for some, he is. He’s rich and gorgeous, but that's about it. Behind the money and the looks is a nasty human being. He’s someone that I can’t wait to get away from. My exact plan is to get a job and be able to walk away from Tyson and the Redding family for good.

I continue to sip on my sparkling water, looking around at the who’s who of Fort Worth. All these people are here for a good cause. A cause many of them will never think about again, once the doors to their luxury cars close behind them. Should it bother me? The cause is still being funded. The women still being helped. Does it matter that if I continue to walk down the same path I'm currently on, I may be in need of the same assistance? Would Tyson really allow that? His baby in a shelter? Probably not.

“Savannah!” Meredith’s voice hisses in my ear. She's staring at me, urging me with her eyes to look at Tyson. Glancing around, I realize I've caught the entire crowd's attention.

“Baby, didn’t you hear me?” He says into the microphone. I must have zoned out because I didn’t hear him, not at all. “I asked for you to come up on the stage with me.”

Why does he want me up there with him? His speech has nothing to do with me. I didn’t put one ounce of effort into this function. It is all his mother. She should be the one who is up on that stage with him, not me.

“For Christ’s sake, Savannah get your ass up there.” Meredith gives me a tiny push, causing Tyson to chuckle into the microphone.

“Isn’t she lovely, ladies and gentlemen?” His words follow me as I walk to the stage and up the steps. He's holding his hand out for me to take, a smirk on his face. He looks happy; like he did when we first met; gazing at me as if I'd hung the moon. But of course, that was before he darkened the sun the first time he laid his hands on me.

“Ladies and gentlemen.” He takes my hand and speaks to the crowd as he keeps his eyes on me. “Many of you may not know, but this woman right here, my Savannah, has been my life for four years now.” I have no idea where he’s going with this. “She's smart, loving, and compassionate.” He steps towards me. “She's the light when I’m dark; the steady in my chaos.” He kisses me softly on the hands. “She's my past and my future.” He bends down on one knee. My eyes dart back and forth between him and the crowd. This cannot be happening. He removes a blue velvet box from his jacket pocket. Opening it, the light from above hits the diamond that sits center in the soft fabric. “Now all she has to do is say she’ll be my wife. How about it, Savannah? Will you do me the honor of becoming mine, my wife?”

My heart races and panic takes over my body. My hands start to shake. This can't be happening. I don’t want this, to be tied to him in marriage. I'm barely able to stand living under the same roof, sleeping in the same bed. Marriage is so permanent. This isn’t part of my plan. My plan is to leave, before I can’t, before he won’t let me go.

“Savannah.” He says my name in a warning tone. I look out to the crowd hearing the whispers and gasps. Women whispering in each other’s ear, the younger ones smiling up at me, watching and waiting. My eyes begin to sting, the revelation of the situation weighing heavy on my shoulders. My life, this is my life. This is what I’ve become. I can’t speak, fearing my voice will give away how much I don’t want this. Tyson’s hand begins to squeeze mine, the passion and love that was in his eyes only moments before has turned to hate and disgust. Anger.

“Answer me.” He orders through gritted teeth. “Now.” I do the only thing I can, I nod. I nod instead of saying no. Instead of getting as far away from him as I can, I agree to be his wife. I am a coward.

“Why did you choose that dress, Savannah?” Tyson asks while he undoes his tie and removes the jacket of his Armani suit. He's standing in front of the dresser in our bedroom as he takes off the diamond-incrusted cuff links his mother bought him when he made VP of Redding Oil.

The gala was supposed to be about the women who were in need of help, but it ended up being about him. He used the charity to gain a crowd so he could showcase his proposal, our engagement. He let those who were important know that Redding Oil and the Redding name was growing, becoming stronger. This wasn’t about me, or us. It was what was best for Tyson, and I had said yes.

“This is one of the dresses that your mother picked out.” I purposefully step back, keeping as much distance as I can between him and me.

It's a beautiful dress. Navy blue fabric covered in crystals that fall to the floor while it hugs my hourglass shape. The front plunges low, as well as the back. My hair is styled in an up do with my bangs swept to the side.

“I’m sure my mother had other dresses picked out, Savannah. You could have found a dress that covered more, maybe revealed less.”

“I thought it would go well with my eyes.” Another step back.

Before I can register what's happening, Tyson lunges at me, gripping my hair by the nape and yanking it down. He forces me to look directly into his eyes. I wince at the pain; tears forming in the corners of my eyes instantly, my knees buckling under the pressure. “Why would I want anyone to see my woman, my fiancée dressed the way you were tonight?”

“We weren’t engaged when I picked it out, Tyson. I didn’t know what your plans were.”

The words leave my mouth before I can stop them. The sting hits instantly as his fist connects with my right cheekbone. Once. Twice. I see stars. The ringing in my right ear intensifies when his backhand connects hard to my left cheek. My head whips to the side.

“If you weren’t so selfish you would see that I wanted to make it special. I wanted the town to know that you’re mine and no one else’s. But you enjoy it, don’t you?” The forcefulness of his words causes his spittle to hit me in the face. “You enjoy having men look at you, desire you, and covet what isn’t theirs. You will be my wife, Savannah! That ring on your finger, that ring that you said yes to, not convincingly, I might add, proves your place and where you belong.” White foam starts to form in the corners of his mouth. “You will spend your days serving me, and making me happy. You will be the dutiful wife to the man who gives you the lifestyle you’ve become accustomed to.”

I can feel my hair being ripped from its roots. The burning in the back of my neck where his fingers are digging in is becoming more intense. “You knew, Tyson!”

“I knew what, exactly?” he grunts.

“You knew I wanted something special, intimate. Don’t you remember?” I try to bring him back, maybe if he thinks of a time when we were happy, before the violence, he'll loosen the grip he has on my hair. “Don’t you remember all the times we talked about it, the romance of it? The idea of having something to tell our children about?”

“What I remember is you living in a fantasy!” He grabs my face with his free hand. His fingers dig into the meat of my cheeks, forcing me to look him in the eye. “Trying to live a life that you pictured in that dream induced mind of yours. What I remember is listening to you drone on just so I can get laid. If you weren’t such a tight piece of ass, I would’ve gotten rid of you long ago. You wanted something special, Savannah; because you know, your crack whore mother never had anything like that. And you know you’re more like her than you want to admit.” His words sting. He knows my insecurities about my birth mother. I told him those things in confidence. Now all he ever does is throw it in my face.

“Why make the spectacle if you can’t stand me?” I pull his hand from my face. “Why even ask? Why don’t you just let me go? I’ll leave. You won’t ever know I was here. You can go and find someone who makes you happy, Tyson, because clearly that’s not me.” My outburst awards me with another backhand to my face. When will I learn?

“Why wouldn’t I want to make a spectacle? Why wouldn’t I want to let everyone who matters in this town know that you are mine? I own you, Savannah. Do you think what you want matters? Do you think what you wanted has ever mattered?” His words are drenched with hatred as his fingers wind around my hair, yanking my face closer to his. The hand that I pulled from my face comes up to my throat slowly closing around it, shutting off my breath in the process.

Panic sets in. My body starts to shake. White spots form in my eyes from the lack of air. He watches me with malice in his eyes as I struggle to breathe. I use my fingers to claw any space between his fingers and my skin, but it’s no use. “You see that, Savannah? You see how easy it would be to end you, to end your life. Don’t doubt me, baby. I’m Tyson Redding and if you cherish your life, you’ll damn well remember that.” Wetness hits my skin as he spits in my face, then my world goes black.