BILLIE'S NIGHTMARE

Chapter 3

I was beyond shocked. He wants to get intimate with me. I immediately pushed with all my might and managed to have him stumble backwards, giving me enough distance to breathe.

"James, we just met. I don't think—"

"How dare you push me?!" he suddenly screamed.

Excuse me?!

"How dare I push you?!" I repeated his words with disbelief. "I tried to move you away from me and you didn't quite get the signal. What else was I supposed to do?!" I asked, my arms crossed as I spoke.

"Elizabeth, you are a woman. Your job is to do what I say, when I say, how I say it. You haven't the right to lay even a pinky finger on me!"

My eyes widened in shock, a pang reverberating inside my ribs. Fire fueled my chest and spread across my cheeks. My pale skin was surely painted blood, my fear forgotten and my fury brewing.

"No! My job is to marry you, live with you and make babies with you. Nothing in between. And don't you dare think you have a say in what I decide. I do what I want. You don't own me."

After saying this, my heart is on the verge of bursting from how hard it clenches. Before I break down into tears, I turn swiftly and start for the door that felt like a shelter in a storm that was too far from my grasp. Before I could even pinch the door, I feel James grab me and he pins me to the wall. I felt as if my arm had just been beat with a sledgehammer when he finally let go, pinning both my wrists to the hard wall. He kept a tight distance between us, so close his breath rested on my cheeks instead of dissolving into the air.

"I won't let you disrespect me." he let out through gritted teeth.

"James, let me go." was all else I was able to say. I despised the sound of my voice. Desperate. Pleading. Begging. Close to tears. Weak. Defenceless. I wanted to demand. Command that he let me go else he would not be spared. I wanted to show him that I wouldn't let him treat me as he pleases. But fear was my traitor.

He closed the distance between us by placing his face on the bridge of my neck. I had no energy to stop him. My arm still hurt and my hands had lost all hope of ever escaping.

"I just want to show you how much I love you, Elizabeth. Why won't you let me?" he whispered again, letting his breath hit the bridge of my neck as he spoke. My breath hitched in discomfort.

"We just met." I managed to say without stuttering. Tears burnt my eyes, but I shut my eyes to push them back in.

Not now, please not now.

"Yes, isn't amazing? We only just met. And after meeting you once, I couldn't help but think about what it would feel like to..."

He was interrupted by someone opening the door. We turned and our cook, Amy came in.

"Elizabeth, what would you like to eat for—" she stopped when she saw the position James and I were in. James made no effort to move and at least act like he was civilized.

"Oh my..." she gasped and held her hand to her mouth.

"What the hell is going on in here?" she asked, her hands rested on her hips.

Amy was like an aunt to me if not a mother. Although she was in her mid to late 30s, she was always like a best friend to me. Our relationship as house chef and "master's daughter" is one like no other. Among all the staff—excluding Nancy—Amy was here the longest, therefore I confide in her most when needs be.

I watched her tap her foot impatiently as she waited for one of us to speak.

James slightly moved away from me and faced Amy's direction. Every ounce of me was drenched in relief when the distance between us elongated.