June

 

“Dammit, woman! I told ya to have dinner on the fuckin’ table when I got home,” Markwayne spat when he walked into our kitchen after work.

I flinched at his tone, which indicated that he’d been drinking with the boys after work. Most days, he was such an asshole and I hated him. I should have left his ass long ago. Every day, I found more reason to leave him.

“Babe, I just got home from work. We had a late rush at the diner and one of the other servers quit. I couldn’t leave Larry shorthanded. Let me change out of my uniform and I’ll make you some supper.”

He was swaying a bit while give me the stare down, making me shift uncomfortably.

Before I knew what was happening, he was on me, sucking my neck hard and pinching my nipple through my uniform. My back was pressed against the knobs of the stove. His erection pushed into me, indicating his desire. It was the same song and dance with him. Lifting my dress up, he reached under and yanked my panties down my thighs. Markwayne was never one for foreplay, so our sex life sucked.

Spinning me around, he pushed me over the stove and entered me from behind. My pussy was dry like usual, and it stung when he entered me. I clutched the grates of the stove to hold myself steady while he had his way with me.

Markwayne hadn’t always been an asshole. Back in high school, he’d wooed me hard. I’d fallen for him pretty quickly and we’d ended up married when I turned eighteen. Our marriage had hit the seven-year itch, and I was itching to leave him. Maybe I would bring that up to him tonight. He hadn’t seemed any happier than I had the last few years.

He pulled out of me and snatched the hand towel from the counter to clean himself up. When he finished, he tossed it to me. Wiping quickly, I snatched my panties back up my legs and started to head toward the bedroom to take a quick shower. He disgusted me these days, and I just wanted to wash away him and the greasy smell away.

“Where do ya think yer goin’?” he demanded, roughly grabbing my upper arm. He squeezed until I yelped in pain. Markwayne liked getting rough every now and again, but he’d yet to hit me.

“Markwayne, I’m goin’ to shower. Let me go,” I seethed. My disgust towards him must have shown loud and clear. The back of his hand connected across my cheekbone before I even knew what hit me. Gasping, I held my hand to my stinging face.

“Ju Ju, I’m sick and fuckin’ tired of you sassin’ me all the time. Now cook me some damn dinner or I’ll do it again.” His threats didn’t scare me like they should have.

Shoving him away from me, I bolted for the bathroom to take my damn shower. The thunderous pounding of his footsteps coming after me echoed through our dilapidated trailer, making my heart quicken. He’d never hit me before today, but now I wasn’t so sure if it wouldn’t happen again.

Darting around the bathroom door, I slammed it shut behind me and engaged the lock. His giant body banged against it, nearly knocking it off its hinges. A cold shiver crept up my spine as I wondered if I’d pushed him too far today. My question was answered when he smashed against the bathroom door again, this time splintering the wood. I shrank away from his massive fists that were punching through the wood. Yanking the plunger up from beside the toilet, I held it out in front of me in a defensive position.

“Get the fuck away from me, Markwayne!” I screeched as he forced himself all the way through the door. My attempts to stab him with the wooden end of the plunger were thwarted as he swatted it easily to the floor. One of his hands found my throat and squeezed, instantly making me see stars.

Thankfully, he released my neck but grabbed my hair instead and yanked me back through the destroyed bathroom door toward our bedroom. Tears were streaming down my face as he dragged me down the hallway and shoved me to the floor once we were inside our room.

Free of his grasp, I scrambled to my feet and searched wildly for something to defend myself with. Markwayne had never taken it this far, and I wanted nothing more than to get away from his violent behavior. Eyeing the lamp and its metal base on the bedside table, I lunged for it. Before I could reach it, he rammed me into it, causing both me and the lamp to crash to the floor. Shards of glass from the light bulb sliced my palms as I tried to stand up.

A hard kick to my ribs sent me sailing into the wall and an instant fiery burn tore through my side. I gasped, attempting to suck in air between the sharp pains. He pounced on me again, jerking me up to my feet by my hair and spinning me to face him.

“You will fuckin’ learn, woman, that I’m tired of your sassin’!” The last thing I remembered before being knocked completely out was his massive fist connecting with my face.