Saved by the Marine

Chapter 1

I'm currently sat in my car outside my apartment complex and to say I was a little nervous was an understatement. I knew Marc was going to be angry with me because I had 10 missed calls from him and just as many texts telling me to call him immediately. My phone had died during my shift at the coffee shop I worked at, and I hadn't noticed until my shift had finished. When I got in my car, I connected my phone to the charging cable and after a minute or so my phone had come back to life and that's when I saw all the texts and missed calls.

The panic set in. I'd sat there for a moment in my car, wondering what to do. He's going to go nuts when I get home, but I dared not stay out any longer, so I began my journey home.

Hopefully, he's not in too much of a bad mood to not go over the top again. It's getting harder to come up with excuses. Sometimes it's so bad that it's nearly impossible to cover the cuts and bruises, so I have to call in sick to work. No amount of make-up is going to cover a swollen eye. He's usually only that sloppy when he's drunk. Sober Marc hits me in places I can easily hide.

Still sat in my car, trying to mentally prepare myself. Praying that maybe his friends were hanging out in our apartment. He wouldn't treat me anything less than a princess when we had company. He wouldn't want people to think he's anything less than the perfect boyfriend.

After some deep breaths, I figured I might as well get this over with and I reluctantly stepped out of my car and headed towards the apartment building. Opening the gate to the courtyard, I walked in staring at my front door as if it might give me any clue as to what was waiting for me on the inside. I walked past the plants and around the fountain that was in the middle of the courtyard. Also passing our neighbors' doors. I don't know if they ever heard me and Marc when he was being violent, but if they didn't, they never said anything.

I started slowly climbing the steps up to my front door. My anxiety is starting to get the better of me as I struggle to get my key in the lock as my hands shake.

I slowly opened the door and stuck my head inside to look around. I can't hear anyone and the lights are off. I slowly crept inside and softly shut the door behind me. Walking down the corridor and looking into each room, I could see he wasn't home. I release the breath I didn't know I was holding and relax my shoulders.

I needed to let him know that I was home, so I called his cellphone. I could also then gauge his emotions when I speak to him, but it went straight through to voicemail. I sent him a text instead, explaining why I didn't reply to his calls or texts. Maybe he'll read it and by the time he gets home he might have calmed down a little.

My stomach rumbles, so I decide to heat up last night's leftovers. The microwave pings and I pull out a lasagna and I practically inhale it. I pop my plate and cutlery in the dishwasher and go take a shower. Walking into the bathroom, I turn on the shower and chuck today's clothes into the hamper. Stepping into the shower, I sighed with satisfaction as the hot water loosened up my tight muscles. I grabbed the shampoo and started my shower routine. Once I've rinsed out all the bubbles, I apply the conditioner and leave it in whilst I wash my body.

My mind drifts off to Marc. I wonder how much trouble I'm in. He no doubt thinks I'm cheating on him. That's what he usually acuses me of. I'd never cheat on him. It's not in my nature to be unfaithful. I try to convince myself that it might not be that bad when he gets home but if the past is anything to go by, it doesn't look good for me.

Continuing with my shower, I shave my legs, under arms and of course, my bikini area. Marc is very particular about what he likes and that includes a "bald p***y". There are no down days with Marc, so the last thing I need is to p**s him off further because I had stubble. Anything to keep the peace. After rinsing myself off, I step out of the shower and begin drying myself. I checked my phone and it was nearly 11:00pm and he still hadn't replied to my text. I started to overthink this and what this might mean. I tried to put my worries to the back of my mind. I grab my lotion and start rubbing it all over my body. Once I'd finished, I dried my hair and put on my robe. I plan to be asleep when he gets home or at least pretend to be. I figure that if I'm asleep he might not bother with me tonight and it'll be tomorrow's problem. Maybe I'll just get the silent treatment. I can only wish to get off so lightly.

Making my way to my bedroom, I flicked on the light and my heart sank. Marc is sitting on the bed. He's leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, holding his head whilst looking at the floor. This is not good.

I can smell the beer from where I'm standing. He must have come in whilst I was in the shower. He's not saying anything and hasn't looked at me yet.

F**k, f**k, f**k!

When sober, Marc can be brutal but when he's been drinking it's a different beast all together. I stand in the doorway, my feet are glued to the spot. Staring at him, not knowing what to do. I decided to try and act normal and play it cool.

"Hi babe, I didn't hear you come in" I said as I walked to my side of the bed, trying not to sound nervous.

Still, he hadn't moved or said anything. I watched him for a moment. My nerves are going crazy.

"Sorry about not answering your calls or texts. My phone died and I hadn't...."

"You think I'm stupid?" he says, cutting me off. He sounds eerily calm.

I turned around to face him. "Of course not. My phone died and work was really busy that I hadn't even noticed."

He stands up and slowly walks round the bed towards me. I tried to take a step back but my legs bump into my bedside table. I'm cornered. He stops in front of me, dangerously close. I kept my eyes down, unable to look at him. I can feel his eyes boring into me. I can feel his breath. The smell of beer is overwhelming.

"WHO THE F**K HAVE YOU BEEN WITH?!" he roars at me, making me wince.

I looked at him, tears already in my eyes. "No one, I promise you. Ring my boss, he'll tell you that I've been there all day." I'm begging him to believe me.

"I bet you f**k your boss in his office. I've seen the way he looks at you."

I quickly shake my head. "No, I promise."

Not happy with my denial, he threw his bottle of beer at the wall, which I hadn't realized he was holding.

"DON'T F*****G LIE TO ME!"

"I'm telling you the truth. Please Marc I wouldn't...."

*SMACK* He hits me across the face with the back of his hand.

And so it begins, the worst night of my life.