A Perfect Stitch

Chapter 10 | dealing with assault

Even though my eyes were closed, I breathed his anger.

It flushed on my face, penciling goosebumps on my skin.

His manly frame shoved me to the wall and my lips trembled under his dominance.

"You won't like me to repeat myself. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes, sir."

Dwain's mobile vibrated and he repeatedly cursed under his breath.

His body weight lifted from mine and gave me a bit of breathing space.

But, no matter the distance between the both of us, my heart still banged on my chest like an engine.

He didn't believe the truth about my identity just like everyone else.

He talked about my birthmark.

The dirty burn on my left shoulder.

Why did he insinuate that Lisa and I had the same mark?

Could it be even possible for two random people to have the same birthmark if they weren't related?

Two people won't have the same birthmark unless they were clones.

Why was he refusing to accept the truth?

I said I wasn't Elizabeth, yet he didn't believe me. Why?

Fear didn't permit me to open my moist eyes.

Dwain could rape me, assault me, kill me, and throw my cadaver to his dogs; yet, no one would know.

My heart was petrified.

There wasn't any way out of this nightmare, yet, I trusted my instinct; someone would come for me.

"Tell those investors whatever you want but make sure they attend tomorrow's meeting, if not, tell them to forget about the deal. I don't have time to trash talk with any of them and their opinion doesn't count. Get back to sleep. It's an order, not a question, Jana. See you at work."

He dropped the call and flung his mobile on the table.

Night breeze strolled into the room, but the dripping anger in Dwain's voice stirred up the heat in the room.

Why wasn't I rebellious?

Why didn't I fight this man back?

Why couldn't I defend myself, though he was mentally and physically abusive?

I was weak and scared of him.

I hated myself, for being a chicken.

He grabbed a blanket from the bed and a pillow, then, made his way to the couch.

Shrugging into the cushion, he opened his laptop which sat on a transparent glass frame table next to the couch.

Then, he drowned his attention on the screen.