Chapter 6: Living in denial.

The pain radiated from my neck as Clayton’s grip tightened, his fingernails digging deep into my skin. The knife still hovered dangerously close to my face, and I gasped for air as his cold breath tickled my skin. “Don’t think for a second you’re getting out of this,” he hissed, his voice venomous.

Then, without warning, the pressure eased. But it wasn’t mercy—it was a shift in position. I stifled a breath, the knife finally leaving my face. He crossed in front of me, bending over my shoulder, his body hovering close. His grip remained firm on my neck, and I could feel his heat, his body pressed into mine as he reached behind me. He cut the ropes binding my hands, but I could barely think as his presence loomed over me; the weight of his body on my shoulders held me in place.

When the ropes finally gave way, my hands were free, and I gasped, moaning from the relief on my sore skin. My chest tightened, but it didn’t last long. In a split second, the tension in my body snapped into a frantic desperation to escape, so I bit down hard on the side of his belly, positioned close to my face as he was still hung over my body. I sank my teeth into his side, my mouth clamping onto his flesh.

Clayton shrieked, standing upright abruptly as he tossed the knife away, and it clattered to the floor. He stumbled back with a howl of pain. His hand pressed to the wound, clutching it as blood seeped from his shirt to his fingers.

“You little whore—” he hissed, shrieking from the pain.

I saw an opening to escape, and I didn’t hesitate to take it. I darted toward the table where I’d seen the room key earlier. Three steps—just three more steps and I could get the key to my freedom.

But Clayton was too fast. His hand shot out, grabbing my hair and yanking me back so violently that my body slammed against the floor with a sickening thud. The pain shot through my spine, a deep ache radiating from my tailbone. Before I could recover, he was on top of me, still clutching my hair; his fist collided with my face, the blow ringing in my ears. I cried and pleaded desperately.

Tears blurred my vision as more hits came to my body. I screamed, my hands futilely trying to block them. Each one harder, leaving my face throbbing and my lips swollen and bleeding. My body crumpled under his assault, my sobs choking in my throat as I begged,

“Please... I beg of you." I choked out as blood dripped from my lip.

But Clayton wasn’t done. His voice dropped to a menacing whisper, “You think you’re clever, right?” He got up and grabbed my arm, jerking me upright, only to slam me back onto the bed. His fist struck me again, and everything went numb except for the overwhelming pain and fear.

“Have mercy…” I gasped, my voice trembling with fear.

His eyes burnt with rage, his hands shredding my clothes. “Don't bother kicking; it’s useless,” he hissed. His breath came fast and shallow as he pinned me down between his legs. His cold, merciless eyes never left mine as he squeezed my left boobs in his palms.

“You’ll learn obedience,” he murmured, shifting my pants aside with his fingers. I lay there, exhausted, my strength drained; my body went limp as I gave up. He ignored my weakness, and I felt his fingers invade me; he thrust three fingers deep into me at once.

A scream tore from my throat, “No! No, stop!”

Clayton’s merciless grip, his cold breath, and the searing pain flooded my mind, suffocating me. I could still feel the phantom touch of his hands, the weight of his cruelty pressing into my skin.

Suddenly, reality shifted. My body jolted upright, the memory snapping into my present. My chair screeched loudly against the floor, and my panicked movements sent me crashing into something solid behind me.

“Allison!” Someone yelled.

The startled gasp of a waiter broke through the haze; colourful drinks splashed across the floor, shards of glass reflecting the overhead lights. My hands trembled uncontrollably as my chest heaved. But then a firm hand gripped my shoulders, and a touch on my face calmed me. That’s when reality completely snapped back. My eyes widened, and the confusion melted away as I recognised Doris standing in front of me.

“What’s wrong with you? Doris asked, her face frantic with concern and inches from mine.

“I... I don’t know,” I muttered, trying to steady myself, but the restaurant felt unreal; everything seemed distant, like I was somewhere darker, yet the criticising whispers of people filled the air.

“What the fuck happened? What did I do?” I gasped, tears flooding my eyes as regret overtook me. I could barely breathe, my hands trembling uncontrollably as I wiped the tears away and looked around.

Doris held me, trying to steady me, but the ground felt unstable beneath me. The waiter stood nearby, drenched in the liquid I splashed on him, when I flew up from my seat abruptly. His colleagues rushed to come help him.

I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean that." I muttered apologetically to him, my voice shaking. I reached into my purse and shoved ten $1,000 bills into his hands.

“T-Thank you,” he stuttered, his voice and eyes full of disbelief. But I didn’t need his gratitude. The room was shrinking in on me, the eyes of the people around me pressing on my skin like they could see my brokenness. Their eyes were heavy with judgement.

“Are you okay?” Doris asked, her voice soft but insistent.

“I don’t... I don’t know,” I muttered, struggling to steady myself. “I just need to go,” I whispered, refusing to meet her gaze.

“Just pay, please. Let’s leave,” I whimpered, my voice barely audible. I couldn’t bring myself to explain it. Not here. Not now.

Doris looked concerned, but she only nodded. She signalled for the check, and as we stood waiting for our bill, the guards rushed in. Dave scanned the scene with suspicion. “What’s going on? Did someone bother you?” he demanded, shooting the waiter a deadly look.

“No,” I whispered, still unable to meet anyone’s eyes. “I need to leave. Now!” The walls seemed to close in around me; I needed the air, the space, anything to break the suffocating grip of the moment.

Dave picked up my bag and phone, leading us out, while the other guards formed a protective semicircle around us. The weight of peoples’ stares pressed into my back, each one a needle prick of humiliation.

---

Once we were in the car, I sat in the back seat, trying to steady my trembling hands. The car ride felt long, even though I had only been there for just a few minutes. Doris sat beside me, her eyes scanning me, but she didn’t press me further. When we were on the road, I noticed the screen of the phone on the car phone holder and saw Dave was calling someone.

“Is that Dontrell?” I asked, the words falling from my lips before I could stop them.

“Yes,” he replied, his eyes flicking to the screen. “I’m trying to get a hold of him, but he’s out of reach.”

“End the call,” I said, my voice calm, but I could feel my rage building up.

“What? Why?” He asked, sounding confused. “I need to let him know about you. Sir Dontrell specifically asked for a report on your outing today.”

“End the fucking call! Before I jump out of this moving car!" I shouted, my voice rising as I slammed my fist against the seat in front of me, feeling the car jolt from the force. Doris immediately grabbed my left arm, a subtle sign that she wasn’t going to let me jump out.

“Not a word of what happened today gets to him!” I stated conclusively, steadying my breath and controlling my anger.

Without missing a beat, Dave hung up the call. He didn’t slow the car down; he didn’t take his eyes off the road.

“I’ll take you home so you can rest,” he said, his tone neutral.

“No,” I replied flatly.

“No?” Doris asked, her voice gentle and full of concern. “You need to go home, love. You need to relax.”

“What I need is a distraction, a trip to the pool, swimming and enjoying the night lights,” I said, turning my gaze toward her.

Doris sighed, clearly concerned. “I don’t buy that idea. You’re not in the best state to swim.”

“Good, I’m not selling it either,” I snapped, turning my gaze away from her.

“Dave, take us to any private pool you know,” I ordered.

“Yes, ma,” he responded without hesitation.

“This night is just for us,” I muttered. “We swim. We drink.”

“You’ve had enough alcohol for the night, Allison,” Doris said. “You should just swim when we get there. You’ve only just started drinking recently, and you don’t know how much your body can handle.”

“Well, I hope this body can handle about twelve shots or martinis,” I said, my voice sharp.

“Over my dead body will I let you drink that much again after what just happened tonight,” Doris shot back, her expression firm.

“We’ll see about that,” I said, my voice steady, staring out the window as the city lights blurred by as if everything were normal.