War Bride

7 - True Colors

He chuckles. "Felipe—you—present."

Present? What present? I have no clue what he's talking about.

Step by step, I retreat whenever he edges forward until my back hits a wall. The fringe of his grown-out bangs keeps falling into his almost black eyes. When he swipes a few strands away, the indifference in them chills every fiber in my body.

Without warning, he lunges forward, his lips pressing down on my mouth hard. I'm trapped between the wall and his rock-hard body. My pounding fists on his back are ignored, my screams muffled by his mouth. He tears at the strap of my dress and the fabric rips. When his hand slips inside my bra, I bite down hard on his bottom lip. That finally gets him to stop.

"PUTA!"

His arm rises so fast that I don't even register the slap until a sting spreads down my cheek. A metallic taste floods my mouth. I run my fingers over my lips; they are covered with crimson red blood. When I leap for the door, he gets hold of a handful of my hair, tossing me on the bed with so much force that my breath is stalled in my chest. His angry finger stops not even an inch from my nose.

"Note muevas." As he glares at me, his pupils are no longer distinguishable from his irises.

I stare back in paralyzing fear, chills running up and down my spine. If I don't do what he wants, he'll probably kill me. The mattress bends under his weight and I roll into a ball with a whimper. Dizziness overcomes me and the swooshing in my ears turns into a raging river.

His voice softens as he strokes my back. "No hagas esto difícil."

Turmoil eats away at my substance like a tornado, destroying everything in its path. Hope, joy, trust—all sucked out of me in a matter of seconds. He tries to straighten my legs, but I hug my knees so tightly that he has loosens my grip by bending my fingers backward. As he forces me on my back, his lustful eyes burn hot on my skin. It takes all my effort not to puke.

Pleading words form on my tongue, but no sound escapes. Tears fall by the buckets. I will lose my virginity to him. That there's is nothing I can do to fight him hurts like a blade that slices through the layers of my soul. As he leans over me, his lips hover dangerously close to my mouth, but I manage to flip on my side and face away from him to avoid another kiss.

This time, he rolls me on my back more forcefully. "NO!" His finger wiggles in front of my face, the anger spilling out of him. He treats me like an ill-behaved dog. As his eyes harden, I can't help but shudder. He'll turn even more violent if I make a wrong move.

He slips his hand under my torn dress and teasingly tugs at the lace of my panties. Crippled by fear, I let him caress me, my stomach almost turning with every stroke over my bare skin. When he drops his pants and exposes himself, I flip onto my stomach and bury my face into the pillow. Seizing a handful of my hair, he forces my head in the direction of his lower body. Luckily, the tears blur my vision. This is it. I can't fight him.

The thump of my racing heart almost drowns out the bang of the door bursting open. Through my tears, I find two silhouettes towering in the doorframe. Loud shouts bounce off the walls; I blink a few times until the scene in front of me comes into focus. Miguel is standing in the middle of the room, gesticulating widely with his arms, while Felipe is crouched in a corner, resembling a picture of misery. His whole face is covered in blood. Charo has vanished.

When Miguel drops on the bed and pulls me into his arms, I lose it. Sobs shake my body and I weep into his chest. I cry harder than ever before.

"Shhh, shhh, I'm here now. I swear no one will touch you."