If she’d been a stronger person, a woman with self-confidence she would have told him that it didn’t matter if he’d bought her a five-course meal. It still didn’t entitle him to have sex with her. But Rita wasn’t a strong self-confident woman. So she stuttered,
‘I do, I mean I did, but …’
She didn’t get to finish because Billy’s wet whisky lips were on hers, demanding and fierce. His teeth biting hard into her bottom lip.
‘Come on, little Miss Ice Maiden,’ he drawled into her ear. ‘I think you’ve made me wait long enough, don’t you?’
‘Billy, please,’ she pleaded. ‘I just want to go up to my room and rest. It’s been a long day. I didn’t mean …’
He squeezed her shoulders, pushing her down onto the couch, while forcing his knee between her thighs. She’d never expected him to be that strong. She brought her knee up with a jolt against his groin. He groaned and slapped her hard across the face. The shock and force of the impact sent her reeling back, hitting her head on the arm of the couch. It was then she started screaming. She didn’t know what else to do to make him stop. She hadn’t meant to mislead him, that’s what she’d been trying to say. But it didn’t make him stop, instead he slapped her again, not just once but several times until her ears rang and tears streamed down her face.
‘Shut it, for Christ’s sake,’ he hissed.
‘Please Billy, I don’t feel well,’ she said through numb lips. There was a metallic taste in her mouth. Blood, something was bleeding.
‘I’m going to have you, you cock-teasing little bitch,’ he spat, his saliva mixing with her tears.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Cold air whispered across Rita’s crotch and she knew he’d torn off her knickers, the pink knickers with the white lace, the pretty ones that made her feel feminine and pure. The shame of being so exposed, the shame of her sin, made her want to scream even more but Billy had his hand over her mouth. She wanted him to stop. Please stop. He released her for a second to undo his flies and she fought to get up, but her struggles seemed to spur him on even more and he easily held her down with one hand. Then horrifyingly, terrifyingly his penis was pushing into her. Pushing, probing, and tearing until she felt he would rip her apart.
‘No,’ she screamed silently, ‘NO, NO.’
It hurt, oh, it hurt so much.
Her foot kicked out with such force that it sent him reeling off her.
‘You can’t,’ she cried.
His face reddened in anger and frustration. Rita grappled with her knickers. There was a roar as Billy charged at her, dragging her from the couch. Rita’s legs twisted under her and she cried out.
‘Oh, Billy, please stop.’
She tried to cover her face as Billy kicked over the coffee table sending the whisky glasses crashing to the floor. Fragments of glass skated across the room, disappearing under chairs and imbedding themselves in the grubby beige rug. She felt some cut into her back as she fell. But the pain from his shoe in her stomach was much worse and knocked the breath out of her. Her legs were like blancmange, floppy and useless. She had to escape, she had to. He cried out suddenly, lifting a bloody hand to his face. Rita saw the shard of glass sticking out of his thumb.
‘Bitch,’ he yelled, slapping her again before hurrying to the sink to staunch the bleeding. ‘You’re nothing but a prick teaser who needs to be taught a lesson.’ Rita struggled to get up but her trembling body wouldn’t cooperate. She crawled to the couch and used it to heave up her trembling body. Billy turned and their eyes met for a brief second, hers terrified, his lustful and menacing.
‘What are you doing?’ he growled, walking towards her.
She fled to the bathroom and looked for a weapon but there was only the loo brush. She threw it but it was harmless. Billy laughed cruelly at her. Rita then remembered. Remembered the gun in the cupboard and her hand grabbed it desperately.
‘No,’ Billy cried, stopping in his tracks. ‘Don’t be stupid. It was only a bit of fun.’
The lust had left his eyes and Rita felt smugly in control.
‘Get away from me,’ she screamed. ‘Get away.’
The gun shook dangerously in her hand. Her finger felt for the trigger.
She thought she heard the sound of bells. It was her ears. He’d damaged her ears. Her hand shook so violently that she was terrified the gun would accidentally go off.
‘It’s not loaded,’ said Billy but the tremor in his voice told her it was.
‘Get out of my way,’ she hissed, wiping blood from her chin.
‘Look, Rita …’
‘I’m going to call the police.’
