Survival ( Book 2: Stronger Series )

16. Whiplash

I woke up the next morning to find myself curled up on the bed with my hands tucked into my chest. Darren must have released me sometime in the middle of the night while I had been sleeping. I looked up at the clock to find it was eight in the morning. I still had plenty of time to get ready.

Raising up, my muscles protested my movement as my body was stiff and sore from last night's altercation. But the pain I was feeling didn't compare to anything when I tried to stand. A sharp ache that rattled my insides near my cervix came full throttle and I gasped in pain and laid back down. Holy fuck, I wasn't sure if I could stand to walk. And then I remembered I didn't have much of a choice.

I decided to revert to my days as a baby and crawled my sore ass to the bathroom. I tried to pee, but the pain was too sharp for it to be comfortable. I decided the warm water of the shower might make it easier.

As soon as the steam started to fog up the mirrors, I crawled into the shower stall and sat on the floor, letting the hot sprays drench my broken body. It felt good and the warmth of the water did help me release my bladder.

I remained in my seated position, leaning against the tile wall as I washed my hair, body, and face, before crawling back out. If I had it my way, I would soak myself in that tempting Jacuzzi tub all day, but I didn't think I would ever have anything my way so long as I was stuck here.

My body felt slightly better, but with so much pain lacing each step, I wasn't sure how much of it I would be willing to stand. Trying my best to ignore it, I combed and styled my wet hair, applied some light makeup, and limped all the way to the closet.

I grabbed the first thing closest to the door and it turned out to be a bright pink tank top dress, one I was sure Darren would appreciate. I put on another white thong and bra, slipped on the dress, and took the smallest, lightest steps I could as I made my way downstairs in the pair of nude sandals.

When I finally reached the dining room, Darren wasn't there and there were no place settings as usual. Was I too early? I looked at the clock as it read 8:57 a.m. and wondered where the hell he was. Angry that I had to do more walking than I wanted, I slowly made my way into the living room and saw Darren through the wall of windows, sitting out on the patio, talking on his phone.

I walked out to meet him, wincing with every step, unable to hide my pain. He was dressed pretty casual today, wearing a pair of jeans and a dark blue button-down with the sleeves rolled to his elbows so I could see his tattoos. He ended his call quickly and looked me up and down, smiling.

"Good morning, princess," he beamed at me. "Sleep well?"

I scoffed at being called a princess. I hated being called that when I was a kid, and I hated it even more so as an adult. At that very moment, I compared myself to Princess Peach being captured by Bowser for the umpteenth time and laughed in my head at the idea of waiting for Mario to come rescue me. Except there was no Mario and this wasn't a game. The only person who would be rescuing me would be me. Benching my nerd side, I took a seat at the table, slowly setting myself on the cushioning of the chair.

"Not exactly," I answered his question, trying to find a comfortable position.

"Something wrong?" he asked, turning his head to study me. He actually looked like he might be concerned. I didn't want to admit to him what he had done to me, but there was no sense in lying.

"I think you bruised my cervix," I winced.

"And whose fault is that?" he asked me with a warning glare.

Yours, you ass fuck.

"I know ... mine," I answered.

"That's right. I imagine that will take a while to heal and will serve as a good reminder for your week of reflection."