The Proposal Series

Chapter 9: Startling Memories

He grabbed her neck, hard enough that his fingertips would leave bruises. She whimpered but knew not to cry out over something as trivial as his fingers on her. He would hurt her far worse if she were to cry out. He forcefully pulled her back towards him, her back up against his front. She could feel his body tense against hers. She hadn't felt the slightest bit of arousal, as the pain radiating from her neck was too distracting. She knew he was relishing in her pain. He loved to hurt her.

“You feel safe with me, angel?" Tom asked.

She didn't answer. She wanted to feel safe. She had felt safe once upon a time. But when he handled her like this, she wasn't sure he would know when she'd had enough.

Her thoughts drifted back to the beginning when she had felt safe. Tom would hug her and kiss her lips. His hands would travel down the length of her body. He would whisper sweet nothings into her ear, telling her he loved her and cherished her. When they would make love, he would be gentle, worshipping her every curve. She felt more than safe with him then. She loved him.

“You are to answer when called upon," he said angrily, bringing back her focus.

He was angry, his voice radiating liquid fire. He grabbed her by her waist and turned her towards him. With one sharp swing, he smacked her face hard with his open hand. Out of shock, she moved her hands to cover her face, and she backed away slowly, cowering in the corner of the room. He edged towards her, fury in his eyes. She could see a red rim outlining his dark blue irises. She knew what was to come next.

“I had to hurt you, angel, you know that. You must learn to do what you are told," he said. He took long strides towards her and lifted his hand.

“Sara! Hey! Come sit over here! You're in the wrong section – our lecture hall sits over here," someone beckoned loudly.

Sara startled out of her memory and warily looked around the room, trying to find the voice that was speaking to her. She saw her classmate waving her hand at her. Sara smiled, but only briefly. She picked up her bag and walked over. As she opened her book bag to take out her materials, she glanced at her phone and saw a message from Bonnie.

“Good luck today. We are going out to the Mock tonight to celebrate. 9:00 pm. Get ready to party!"

Sara knew the Mock. It was a low-key bar and nightclub located just fifteen minutes from her apartment. She may not have been the type of person to venture out often, but she certainly familiarized herself with her surroundings.

She sent Bonnie a quick text confirming the plan for this evening. Sara then took out her pen and began to write.

The next few hours passed by slowly. Sara's concentration was off, but not by much. She was used to dealing with stressful situations, and she had developed a coping mechanism. She would close her eyes really tight, and picture something happy. The mental picture usually included thinking about her mom. She missed her every day, and the fact that the police and private investigators had been so apathetic to her death didn't help. Sara had found out more about her mother's disappearance and untimely death than all the professionals assigned to her case.

Sara handed in her exams and left the building. Her two interviews were scheduled back-to-back. She would have to take a cab to both interviews, as they were not within walking distance. She didn't like the idea of driving in a random person's car, but she didn't have much of a choice. She pulled out her phone, seeing two missed calls from Derek Walberg. Great. He was calling her now? He must be more desperate than she was. She deleted the missed calls, but not without saving his number first. She recalled that he never gave her his personal number, so she had no idea why he had chosen to call her from it if he didn't want her having it.

Sara dialed the Toronto Taxi Service – the best cab company in the city. She knew the chances of anything bad happening with a reputable service would be slim. After five minutes a driver arrived, except the driver wasn't from the Toronto Taxi Service.

A familiar Rolls Royce pulled up in front of the school's gymnasium. The driver's side window wound down, and instead of seeing Derek's assistant Jennifer, the man was there in the flesh.

Oh gosh. Sara thought. “What are you doing here, Derek?"

“You called for a cab, and a cab is what you have," he said, smiling at her.

“This isn't a cab. This is a Rolls Royce – have you no shame?" she asked. She was embarrassed. This was going to cause a scene, and that was the last thing she wanted.

“The only shame I have is not making this decision easier for you. You didn't take my calls."

“I didn't take your calls because I had two exams and I have two interviews scheduled today. As much as I would love to have a personal driver take me everywhere, I would rather he not be you," she said.

“Ouch. Well, I suggest we bring this argument into the car – you seem to have a rather large audience," Derek said, his gaze traveling over her shoulder.

Sara turned around and saw at least fifteen students watching her argue with a man in a Rolls Royce from the top of the stairs. She was trying to keep a low profile in her life, and Derek was all but ruining that. If he was so concerned with her safety, he sure had a weird way of showing it. Sara decided she would not sit upfront with him. If he wanted to act like a driver, she would treat him like one. She grunted, rolled her eyes, and got into the back seat of the car.