Nothing Left to Lose
Page 147
The pool of blood is so big now that it is almost touching the rug on the floor. As I ponder over how much blood can be left inside him, a sharp pain resonates across my ribs and I gasp, whimpering. “I said do you love me?” Carter repeats, pressing on the bruises that I already have across my ribcage.
“Of course I love you, baby,” I lie quickly. The words still feel as though they rip my heart out, even though I’ve said them every day for the last six months.
“Hmm, good,” he whispers, easing my legs apart and settling himself between my thighs. When Mario’s leg twitches, I squeal and look at it with wide eyes, knowing I will have a fresh nightmare tonight instead of the usual ones. “It’s normal,” Carter says quickly. He grips my chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning my head towards his and crashing his lips to mine.
As he uses my body, pleasuring himself like he does every day, all I can see is the dead man’s foot twitching, his one lifeless eye staring up at the ceiling, and the dark blood that is slowly congealing on the tiled floor.
Finally, he reaches his climax and slumps down on top of me, crushing me with his weight. When his breathing has slowed and the dead man’s blood has reached the edge of the expensive-looking cream rug, Carter moves to nibble on my earlobe. “I love you so much, Princess.”
Numb. I’m numb and emotionless. I barely even feel the pain between my legs where he’s just used me for his own sick satisfaction.
He smiles against my neck. “You know, I was thinking about something earlier.” He pulls back and grins down at me, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “I think we should get married.”
My mouth is dry. I have no words.
He strokes the side of my face softly. “Annabelle Thomas. I like it. Maybe we’ll go to Vegas tomorrow,” he suggests, grinning at me.
I don’t feel anything. I am dead inside. He has killed me. I honestly don’t care if I am married to him or not, there is nothing I can do about it either way.
Screaming, someone was screaming. I jerked up in the bed, only to realise that it was me. Fumbling behind me, I grab the pillow and press it over my face to muffle the sound as the scream slowly subsides. I didn’t want any guards to burst in and see me like this, and I also didn’t want it getting back to Ashton in the morning that I’d had a nightmare. Helpless tears flowed down my face at the memory. I panted, trying to calm down. My heart was crashing in my chest. After what seemed like forever, my body slowly started to return to normal. My muscles unclenched, my jaw loosened and my tears dried up. Glancing over at the clock, I saw that it was only three in the morning. I groaned and rolled over, squeezing my eyes shut, hoping for more sleep to find me.
“So, all we need is some identification, and then you’re all set to go,” the guy says from Carter’s window.
Carter grins at me excitedly as he squeezes my knee. I smile automatically, knowing that is the response he wants from me. He grabs his driving licence and my fake one that Jack got for me for the club, and then he hands them to the guy at the drive through, along with a wad of cash.
I stare at my nails, picking aimlessly at the skin down the side, making it bleed. When the car rolls forward a few minutes later, I glance up, emotionless. This was what it had come to. Getting married in a drive through chapel in Vegas because he doesn’t trust me to get out of the car, so he’d found a place where minimal contact with people was needed.
As we pull up at the next window, a guy stands there in a white robe. As he talks, I can’t even pay attention, so I pick aimlessly at the skin on the edge of my nail again. A sharp sting on my wrist distracts me from my task. I look down, seeing that Carter is squeezing my wrist, digging his nails into my skin.
“Say your words, Princess.”
I look up expectantly at the man in the booth, not even bothering to beg for help. If I did, Carter would shoot him dead – he’d already told me that several times on the way here.
I repeat the words after him. “I, Annabelle Spencer, take you, Carter Thomas, to be my lawful wedded husband. To have and to hold from this day forward. For richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part.” As I say it, I pray the last part, the part about death, comes soon for either me or him. At this point, I’m past caring who.
I feel nothing. Ever since he’d made me lose the baby, something had been terribly wrong with me. I just don’t care anymore, nothing matters to me. I don’t even feel pain like I used to. Sometimes I long for pain to give me something else to think about, so I provoke him into beating me. Even that pain doesn’t last long enough anymore though.
Carter grins and I plaster on a fake smile as he says his words to me and slips the expensive-looking gold wedding band onto my finger. I study it, emotionless. It is set with little diamonds all the way around it, and probably cost him more than the car we were driving in.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride,” the man says happily, utterly oblivious to my waking nightmare that I can’t escape from.
Carter lets out a triumphant growl and grabs me, kissing me, hard. After a few seconds, he pulls back, grinning from ear to ear, looking happier than I have ever seen him. “You’re officially mine now, Mrs Thomas.”
I gasped and sat up. I was sweating so much that the bed was damp, and the sheets were stuck to my body. My hand was hurting for some reason. I turned the light on and looked at my left hand; it was clenched in such a tight fist that my fingernails had cut into my palm, drawing blood. Groaning, I pushed myself out of bed and take a deep breath. Dizziness overcame me, so I put my hand on the bed to steady myself as my legs wobble. I hated to think of the fact that I was married to the man that caused my life to spiral out of control. No one knew. I had never told anyone, not even my parents, and I didn’t ever plan on it either.
“Of course I love you, baby,” I lie quickly. The words still feel as though they rip my heart out, even though I’ve said them every day for the last six months.
“Hmm, good,” he whispers, easing my legs apart and settling himself between my thighs. When Mario’s leg twitches, I squeal and look at it with wide eyes, knowing I will have a fresh nightmare tonight instead of the usual ones. “It’s normal,” Carter says quickly. He grips my chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning my head towards his and crashing his lips to mine.
As he uses my body, pleasuring himself like he does every day, all I can see is the dead man’s foot twitching, his one lifeless eye staring up at the ceiling, and the dark blood that is slowly congealing on the tiled floor.
Finally, he reaches his climax and slumps down on top of me, crushing me with his weight. When his breathing has slowed and the dead man’s blood has reached the edge of the expensive-looking cream rug, Carter moves to nibble on my earlobe. “I love you so much, Princess.”
Numb. I’m numb and emotionless. I barely even feel the pain between my legs where he’s just used me for his own sick satisfaction.
He smiles against my neck. “You know, I was thinking about something earlier.” He pulls back and grins down at me, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “I think we should get married.”
My mouth is dry. I have no words.
He strokes the side of my face softly. “Annabelle Thomas. I like it. Maybe we’ll go to Vegas tomorrow,” he suggests, grinning at me.
I don’t feel anything. I am dead inside. He has killed me. I honestly don’t care if I am married to him or not, there is nothing I can do about it either way.
Screaming, someone was screaming. I jerked up in the bed, only to realise that it was me. Fumbling behind me, I grab the pillow and press it over my face to muffle the sound as the scream slowly subsides. I didn’t want any guards to burst in and see me like this, and I also didn’t want it getting back to Ashton in the morning that I’d had a nightmare. Helpless tears flowed down my face at the memory. I panted, trying to calm down. My heart was crashing in my chest. After what seemed like forever, my body slowly started to return to normal. My muscles unclenched, my jaw loosened and my tears dried up. Glancing over at the clock, I saw that it was only three in the morning. I groaned and rolled over, squeezing my eyes shut, hoping for more sleep to find me.
“So, all we need is some identification, and then you’re all set to go,” the guy says from Carter’s window.
Carter grins at me excitedly as he squeezes my knee. I smile automatically, knowing that is the response he wants from me. He grabs his driving licence and my fake one that Jack got for me for the club, and then he hands them to the guy at the drive through, along with a wad of cash.
I stare at my nails, picking aimlessly at the skin down the side, making it bleed. When the car rolls forward a few minutes later, I glance up, emotionless. This was what it had come to. Getting married in a drive through chapel in Vegas because he doesn’t trust me to get out of the car, so he’d found a place where minimal contact with people was needed.
As we pull up at the next window, a guy stands there in a white robe. As he talks, I can’t even pay attention, so I pick aimlessly at the skin on the edge of my nail again. A sharp sting on my wrist distracts me from my task. I look down, seeing that Carter is squeezing my wrist, digging his nails into my skin.
“Say your words, Princess.”
I look up expectantly at the man in the booth, not even bothering to beg for help. If I did, Carter would shoot him dead – he’d already told me that several times on the way here.
I repeat the words after him. “I, Annabelle Spencer, take you, Carter Thomas, to be my lawful wedded husband. To have and to hold from this day forward. For richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part.” As I say it, I pray the last part, the part about death, comes soon for either me or him. At this point, I’m past caring who.
I feel nothing. Ever since he’d made me lose the baby, something had been terribly wrong with me. I just don’t care anymore, nothing matters to me. I don’t even feel pain like I used to. Sometimes I long for pain to give me something else to think about, so I provoke him into beating me. Even that pain doesn’t last long enough anymore though.
Carter grins and I plaster on a fake smile as he says his words to me and slips the expensive-looking gold wedding band onto my finger. I study it, emotionless. It is set with little diamonds all the way around it, and probably cost him more than the car we were driving in.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride,” the man says happily, utterly oblivious to my waking nightmare that I can’t escape from.
Carter lets out a triumphant growl and grabs me, kissing me, hard. After a few seconds, he pulls back, grinning from ear to ear, looking happier than I have ever seen him. “You’re officially mine now, Mrs Thomas.”
I gasped and sat up. I was sweating so much that the bed was damp, and the sheets were stuck to my body. My hand was hurting for some reason. I turned the light on and looked at my left hand; it was clenched in such a tight fist that my fingernails had cut into my palm, drawing blood. Groaning, I pushed myself out of bed and take a deep breath. Dizziness overcame me, so I put my hand on the bed to steady myself as my legs wobble. I hated to think of the fact that I was married to the man that caused my life to spiral out of control. No one knew. I had never told anyone, not even my parents, and I didn’t ever plan on it either.
