Meg Lewis had so many different personas, she was starting to lose track of what she really was-American spy, wife to a Nazi, courier, half-Jewish...She didn't want to break John Egan's heart and she certainly didn't intend to pioneer the world of s...
A/N: What if I just...updated now since I can't update tomorrow haha? Again, trigger warnings apply and there's some pretty clear marital abuse and sexual abuse implied and mentioned—as well as some murder haha. Enjoy and please let me know your thoughts! Also, check out the family and her brother Alex, played by Glenn Powell!
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Meg couldn't help the fact that she booked it inside—shoving past the men and letting her own fears tear and rip at her. She hurried up the stairs, unable to keep the bile from rising in her throat. Taking the stairs two at a time, Meg pushed her way into the master bedroom—throwing open the bathroom and abruptly spilling her guts into the toilet.
For a moment, it was all she could do to just heave and try to remember how to breathe. Because just outside, there was the sight of smoke still trailing past the window. Just outside, she could hear the shouting and the sound of gunshots going off—Meg couldn't help that she flinched at the sound, sinking onto the ground with a gasp for air.
She couldn't do this, couldn't hear them die, couldn't watch them die like this.
Not like mama, not like mama, not like mama—
Luckily for Meg, before she could spiral, the door to the bathroom was wrenching open. She hadn't even heard the footsteps—she was caught off guard by Rolfe snarling at her. In one large motion, he had grabbed her by the hair and hauled her to her feet.
"Hiding like a weak child—" Rolfe bit out the words, free-hand fisting into her ribs and stealing away her breath.
Meg doubled over, gasping for air. He tugged her upwards, catching her by the throat. And when she looked into his eyes, she saw nothing but the dark expanse of death . "I—" Meg started.
"You'll speak when spoken to!" Rolfe commanded, sharply slapping her across the face.
Her cheek stung as she stood there, taking the abuse. Waiting for her moment. If it was going to come, surely it would come today. It would have to be now or never. Rolfe's hands trailed over her face, smoothing out her hair and straightening her clothing.
"We have guests . Americans, no less. We will surely be hungry after our interrogation. Prepare the food."
It was an order that she dared not deviate from. Meg gave a nod, gaze falling on the ground and staring at his shiny shoes— she'd spent all afternoon the day prior ensuring they were up to standard. His hands continued to trail over her shoulders, reaching down and digging into her wrists.
"Do you understand, you whore ?"
"Yes, Rolfe," came the immediate reply. She did not move when he leaned forward and tugged her chin harshly to him. She did not move when he kissed her and she did not flinch when iron filled her mouth and he soothed the bite with his own tongue—shoving her away from him with a smirk at the sight of her bloodied mouth.
