Chpater2
1222 Words
***Piper***
I woke to find Peter sound asleep in the bed. I didn't know what time he got in. When I finally fell asleep, my body was exhausted. I never felt him getting into the bed.
I glanced at the time. It was just a little after seven. Slowly and quietly, I slipped out of bed. I didn't want to wake him. He hates it if I wake him up before he is ready; he has to be at work around ten, so he will sleep till about eight-thirty.
Sneaking out of the room, I didn't want to risk using the bathroom and waking him, so I would use the spare one downstairs.
My body was still sore, but I was able to move better this morning.
Once I had done my business, I moved to the kitchen. Doing up a pot of coffee, I made myself a cup. I needed to start his breakfast. He wouldn't care how much pain I was in. If I slacked off, it would be twice as bad as last night.
Sipping my coffee, I got busy starting his food; he is a picky eater in the morning.
I kept my ear out for any movement upstairs.
I heard the door open and his footsteps as he made his way downstairs. My heart picked up when I heard him getting closer; I took a breath to calm myself.
I plated his food, grabbed his coffee, and set it down just as he rounded the corner. Sitting down, he didn't even glance at me.
I set his plate and coffee in front of him, then backed away. I'm not allowed to sit at the table when he eats his breakfast. I moved over to the corner.
He scrolled through his phone as he ate, never looking up. His phone rang.
"Yeah?"
He looked out the window and then pushed his plate away, standing up.
"Alright, I'm heading out now."
Clicking the phone off, he shoved it into his pocket.
"I have friends coming over tonight. I want the house spotless. You will make yourself scarce."
"Yes, Peter," I told him.
He walked to stand in front of me, and I held my breath. He gripped my chin, tipping my head up. He smirked at me, knowing full well I'm scared to death right now.
"Can't have anyone seeing how ugly you are. You will be in the spare room tonight; do not come to my room until I call for you."
"Yes, Peter."
With a slight shove, he let my chin go, stepping back. "Don't screw up today, or it's your ass," he called out as he walked out the door.
I felt myself relax, letting out the breath I had been holding. I had no issue hiding away when his friends were over. They are nothing but disgusting pigs. And the women who come with are no better.
I remember the first time he had them over. The men kept grabbing my ass and trying to touch me. Peter laughed when I told him about it and said I wasn't comfortable with it.
"Learn to live a little, Pip. Let loose," he told me. I was so angry that I went upstairs to calm myself. When I came back down, I was greeted with a sight I wish I had never seen.
They were all naked and going at one another. When I caught sight of Peter on the other side of the room, slamming himself into a redhead who was bent over the back of the couch, he looked at me, winking, then smiling.
I all but threw up right there.
I rushed back upstairs, locking myself in the room. I cried myself to sleep that night. When I woke up the next day, I packed a bag and was ready to leave. I couldn't believe he had done that. I was hurt and confused. But mostly, I was angry.
Leaving the room, I made my way downstairs. I didn't see anyone.
"Where are you going?"
I jumped, spinning around. He stood there with just a pair of jeans on.
I could see all the marks on his neck and chest. Rage filled me. I held my head up.
"Leaving. What does it look like?"
He raised a brow. "Oh, really? Well, I think not. Put your stuff away and come down to make breakfast. We are hungry; after all, we worked up an appetite last night."
I scoffed at him, turning away and heading for the door, but just as I was about to reach the handle, I was slammed face-first into the door, his body pinning me.
"I didn't say you could go," he whispered right next to my ear.
"Get off me. If you think I'm staying here after what I saw last night, you are crazy," I screamed at him.
I now know that was a bad idea. The beating he gave me was the first time he had ever hit me, but it was the beginning of what I now call my life.
I slipped off the barstool and started cleaning up the kitchen. I knew the house didn't need to be cleaned. That's one thing I ensure is done: I try not to give him a reason. I would do my usual chores and ensure the downstairs was set up. He likes it a certain way when he has his so-called friends over.
I wished I had someone to call and talk with. After Molly left, I never made any new friends. Peter slowly and steadily managed to keep me away from others. Even now, I do not leave the house unless he tells me I can, and then I'm given a certain amount of time. If I'm late, it doesn't turn out well for me.
Working on autopilot, I moved through the house. Once I had everything done and set up, I went up and grabbed the things I would need for tonight, taking them to the spare room.
I went back down. I needed to make something to eat and grab drinks for myself, as I would not be allowed out of that room, and I had no desire to leave it, knowing what would take place. Peter must have been planning to keep someone overnight if he had me moving to the other room. It didn't bother me anymore. I had become numb to it all; I was unwilling to give myself to him. I hadn't been in a long time, but he still took what he wanted from me. I felt dirty and used when he was done. I had tried to fight him off, but I only ended up with me being beaten to a pulp and him taking it away.
But I did still struggle against him when he got in those moods.
Getting what I needed, I returned to the room, shutting and locking the door. I did not want any of them to wander in here during the night.
I noticed it was after six already. I quickly showered and then changed; sliding into the bed, I curled up. These were the nights my poor, battered body could get extra rest. Come tomorrow, the downstairs would be a mess, and it would take me all day to clean up after them.
- Writer
