For the first time in my life, I fight back.
My knee jerks up between us, slamming into his balls. He chokes against my mouth, then reels away. He doubles over and makes a pathetic retching sound.
“Fucking bitch,” he wheezes, stumbling toward me.
I spin on my heel and run. I dart out of the laundry room and into the open breezeway on the ground floor. I’m at my front door in seconds, and I wrench it open. I slam it shut behind me and throw my weight against it, sliding the lock in place just as Ron’s bulky body smacks into the wood.
“Come out here, you little cunt!” he roars. My entire door vibrates at my back. He’s kicking it, punching it.
If he manages to get inside, he’ll do the same to me.
The violence reminds me of a different night when I was pressed against my door, when the masked man pinned me here and violated me in the worst way.
My knees fold, and I sink to the floor as horrific memories threaten to pull me under.
I force my shaking hand to find my phone in my pocket. It takes a few trembling attempts to find Dane’s contact information and connect the call.
He answers after three rings. “I’m at work. Can I call you back?”
I can’t breathe. I try to speak, but all that issues from my throat is an awful choking sound. Ron pounds on my door, shouting curses at me.
“Abigail!” Dane’s usually cultured voice is rough. “Where are you?”
“Home,” I manage to wheeze.
I squeeze my eyes shut. My head is pounding in time with Ron’s fists on my door.
“I’m on my way. Stay on the phone with me.”
I can’t do more than nod mutely.
“Tell me what’s happening,” he commands sharply.
“Ron…” His name is all I can force past the lump in my throat.
“I’ll be there soon,” he promises darkly. “Are you in your apartment? Is the door locked? Answer me, Abigail.”
“Yes,” I whisper, compelled to obey.
“Stay right where you are. Breathe. Just keep breathing. That’s all you have to do until I get there, understand?”
I heave in a painful breath that’s like a knife through my chest.
He must hear my attempt to comply because he praises, “Good girl. Another. Just focus on your breath.”
His voice is my anchor to reality, preventing me from getting lost in awful memories. He continues to talk me through my terror, commanding each of my ragged breaths.
At some point, the hall outside goes quiet, and my door stops vibrating on its hinges. Ron has given up.
I’m not sure how much time passes before I hear Dane’s voice at the door. It takes a second for me to realize that it’s not coming through my phone.
“Let me in, Abigail.”
I have to grab the doorknob to haul myself up onto my shaking legs, but I manage to unlock the door. It swings opento reveal my dark god, his heartbreaking face drawn in sharp, vicious lines of rage.
But his hands are gentle when he cups my cheeks, inspecting my face for signs of injury.
“He didn’t hurt me,” I say through numb lips. “I hurt him. That’s why he was so angry.”
