The glass doors closed, sealing off the dining room. I stumbled along the stone path until my knees hit the marble fountain in the center. Leaning over the rim, I wiped a blood smear from my split lip, my fingers trembling against my mouth. I could still feel the heavy weight of his boot pressing against my thigh.
My fingernails scraped against the rough stone until my hands burned. I yanked at the tight neckline of my dress, ripping the fabric open, but no air entered; only a dry, choking knot in my throat.
The glass door clicked behind me. Heavy footsteps followed.
“Tamara.” Julian’s voice was rough, slicing through the dark.
I didn’t turn around. I couldn’t. If I looked at him right now, he would see the disgust written all over my face.
He didn't wait for me to face him. Instead,
