Chapter 31
Natasha.
Clayton had hit me several times, sometimes during sex, and other times when he was riled up. But as he did those, I never protested. This was the first time I was doing something back. As my open palm connected with his cheek, I felt a small bubble grow inside of me; I felt alive, for the first time in a very long time.
“Natasha,” he said, stunned, his hand on his cheek which I imagined was stinging with the pain. “You hit me, Natasha.”
“Fuck yes, I did,” I said. “And I will again.”
I saw him flinch, cower as I raised my hand to slap him again, but my hand refused to move. When I looked back, it was Whitney holding me.
“That’s enough, Natasha,” she said. “This is messy already as it is.”
I lowered my arm and rested my eyes on Clayton who looked more surprised than I had ever seen him. But I did not feel any pity, all I felt was disgust, and I knew it was written all over my demeanor, with the way I raked my eyes all over his body.
“You fucking bastard,” I said in a low simmering voice. “I gave you everything – my body, my time. For the past few years, I’ve been like a fucking slave to you, like your property. You do whatever you like with me. And one day, because of some dirty girl you picked from the trash, you get up and get married. Without even informing me.”
I felt the tears rise in my throat as I spoke, but I fought to hold them in, to make sure Clayton did not see how completely he had damaged me.
“I-I…” He began, but he stopped. I knew he did not have anything to say.
I grabbed my purse and held Whitney’s hand as we both walked out of the bar. Through my side eye, I could see Trent approaching. He had probably watched the whole drama from where he sat. But I didn’t care. He and Clayton were both alike. They could go fuck themselves.
Clayton:
My cheek still stung as Trent approached me. As if my hand was glued to my cheek, somehow, I couldn’t take it off. Trent put a hand on my shoulder and I shrugged it off. He tried to do it again.
“Get the fuck off me, man,” I yelled at him.
A steward approached his apron. He had a concerned look on his face. We were obviously high-profile individuals, he could tell, so he approached us with caution.
“Anything the problem, sirs?” He asked as if he had not seen Natasha smack me, or seen me shrug Trent’s touch off.
“Ohh, fuck off,” Trent said to him. “Get away from here. Go do something, like wash a plate, or mop the beer off of a table, hunh.”
The steward looked stunned.
As Trent spoke, I made for the entrance and began to walk to the car where my driver was waiting.
“Home, now,” I said to him as I eased into the passenger seat.
“Okay, sir,” he said benignly. “Did you have a nice night?”
“Would you take me the fuck back home, or ask me stupid fucking questions?” I yelled at him.
“I’m sorry, sir,” he said.
“Drive!” I commanded, and he started the engine and zoomed off.
Nadine
I called Naomi the next day. I needed someone to talk to, someone to bare my mind to. I also needed to see Anna. For the past few months, Naomi had been more of an elder sibling than I had been, but that wasn’t my fault; me being trapped in Clayton’s mansion.
“I just wanna talk,” I told her after she picked up.
“Ohh, really?” She said as if in a hurry. “Well, I worked the night shift and am hurrying to go to the hospital to see Anna.”
I could hear the exhaustion in her voice. Naomi was a good friend, in fact, the best friend I had ever had.
“Okay, okay,” I said. “I’ll meet you at the hospital. I want to see Anna, too.”
“That’s cool,” she said and we hung up.
I took a bath, slipped into one of the new dresses that I had gotten and called for the driver.
“Central hospital,” I said when he answered my order.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said as he walked to the car.
It still felt weird having people call me “ma’am,” having people defer to me. Being Clayton’s wife, living in the mansion with him, I got treated like I was royalty. We arrived at Central hospital before Naomi and I got to see my sister. Her eyes lit up when I walked in.
“Ohh, I’m so happy you’re here,” she said.
“As I am,” I replied as I stooped to give her a small hug.
She looked better than the last time. Her cheekbones did not look so sunken and her eyes were getting back the shine they had in them.
“You look better, baby girl,” I said to her as I stroked her chin lightly.
“Yup. You know what the doctor said?” She said, “He said that I’m responding to treatment. So much that if it continues like this, I could be cancer free in a month or so.”
“What?!?!” I said genuinely surprised. A tear ran down my eye. It was like a dream; my sister was going to be alright. “When did he say that?”
“This morning, when he was making his rounds,” she replied.
I stroked her chin again.Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.
“I wonder where Naomi could be,” she said. “She’s usually here early.”
“Well, baby, Naomi gets busy, as you know,” I said to reassure her. “I talked to her this morning and she said she was on her way, so I guess she’ll be here soon.”
Just then the door squeaked open and Naomi walked in.
“Hey, ladies,” she said. There was an unbridled joy in her voice that made me melt inside.