Watching Rory

Prologue

After hours in the emergency room, an X-ray shows I've fractured two bones in my wrist and suffered a concussion. Thankfully it's not more severe, and the doctor can discharge me.

I've tried to call my husband, Eric, numerous times to come to pick me up, but it rings once before being sent to voicemail.

Fuck, I guess I'll call a cab.

The driver arrives within ten minutes, and my anxiety rises as soon as I enter his car. I don't know if it's from riding in the car with a stranger or because I don't know what to expect from Eric when I get home.

As we pull up to my street, I first notice an exuberant amount of cars filling my driveway. There are vehicles also lined on both sides of the road. Without putting the car in park, the cabby stops and points for me to get out.

I'm ready for a hot bath and my comfy pajamas, but I don't see that happening while my house is full of people.

Half-naked women grind to the loud music blaring out of the stereo system, and Eric is at the center.

He has a joint hanging from his mouth, a bottle of Jack D in one hand, and with the other, he gropes some chick's ass.

When he sees me and our eyes meet, his entire demeanor changes, and he's full of rage.

He has no remorse even though he put me in this situation.

My legs stumble as I try to get to my bedroom as fast as possible, but a beer bottle smashes against the wall before me, stopping me in my tracks.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Eric roars as the room goes silent. All their eyes roam over me.

Eric reaches me in four massive steps before he grabs me by my broken wrist.

"You're supposed to be getting checked out."

"Eric, let go," I cry out in agony.

"I went to the ER, and I have multiple fractures in my wrist."

My eyes linger where his hand grasps me, hoping he understands the message I'm trying to relay, but they don't.

"This is a party and not one for your pity. I don't give a fuck what the doctors said, as long as you told them you fell down the stairs," he says as he tightens his hold on me.

"That's what you told them, right?"

He drags me down the hall and shoves me into the hallway closet without giving me a chance to respond.

The same closet where he keeps his guns.

"If you don't want me to turn your broken wrist into a broken arm, you'll keep quiet, so I can go get my dick sucked," he yells as he slams the door, and the mechanism of the padlock clicks into place.

Fuck!

What am I going to do?

Why is Eric doing this to me?

My wrist throbs from Eric's hold, and I have the spins.

I don't think I'll be able to stay conscious until morning.

I'm so fucked.

The man I married would never lay a hand on me, but he's no longer the man I promised forever to.

A faint light shines into the cramped space from a tiny crack at the bottom of the door.

Not knowing how long I'll be trapped here, I close my eyes and try to rest my mind.

I need to get out of here, and I don't just mean from this closet.

The only option I have to achieve a life that doesn't involve being beaten or locked away is to get far away from Eric.

🖤 How would you react if your spouse locked you in the closet?

I𝐟 𝐲o𝐮'𝐫e l𝐨o𝐤i𝐧g f𝐨r s𝐨m𝐞t𝐡i𝐧g n𝐞w t𝐨 𝐫e𝐚d w𝐡i𝐥e y𝐨u w𝐚i𝐭 𝐟o𝐫 𝐭h𝐞 𝐧e𝐱t c𝐡a𝐩t𝐞r c𝐡e𝐜k o𝐮t
𝑭𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒚 𝑾𝒂𝒔 by MinervaLaurent