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The Bride's Mate

On the happiest day of her life— her wedding day—Rachael, a famous designer, couldn't believe that a complete stranger would change her life for the worst Would the secret be revealed, or Rachael had a better way to get rid of the intruder who had a deep dark secret she didn't know? *Trigger Warning*

Mitch_Kangar · Action
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47 Chs

Chapter 11

She stared at him as he gulped on his bottle of Jack Daniels, intoxicating himself; a long line of almost-dried blood was enshrouded from the corner of her lips down to her chin. Michelle sat on her heels on the bed, her hands and legs tied behind her. Tears stung her eyes. Her body was bruised from the assaults. 

Yes, she loved him, but he turned from an angel to the devil himself after they got married and established. He used to be adorable—prior to their marriage— but he became the monster after. He started drinking and smoking, that which he never did when they were dating. Or he never let her see him. It would have surely sabotaged their relationship. 

She looked the other way when he turned to face her, bringing the bottle down from his mouth. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand, he then used the sleeve of his brown sweatshirt to wipe his face. He walked to her, not staggering like she had thought he would've.

Her heart began to beat faster than it already was when he sat next to her on the bed. He wrapped strings of her hear around his finger. Michelle swallowed hard, shivering. She closed her eyes tightly as the feeling of waiting for him to hit her covered her. Henry cleaned the blood on her bottom lip with his thumb. 

"I don't like doing this," he admitted. "But it's your fault!" He yelled at her. "You know how furious I get when you disobey me. The Bible says a wife should obey her husband, but you...don't listen."

She couldn't let him use God's word while doing his evil deed. "How shameless. Using the word of God to justify your evil deeds!" She rolled her eyes. 

He glared at her when she blasted at him. Heny tried very hard to control himself; he was tired of hitting her. His knuckle was sour. 

"Despite my regrettable actions, you shouldn't have attempted escaping the house," he tried making her guilty for trying to escape and go to her brother's wedding. 

"Tell me about it, Henry. You keep saying your regrettable actions, yet, you keep on doing it over and over. That is very heartless!" 

He slapped her with the back of his hand, making her to fall on the bed. She whimpered. Henry pulled her up by her hair, and held her chin in his other hand. He looked her straight in the eyes. 

"Don't you dare raise your voice at me again, Bitch!" He warned her for the hundredth time, stressing on all the words. "You are fucking tempting at times, Michelle. I hate you!" 

"I don't like you either." Michelle spat into his face. "You are deranged, so I don't blame you," she said, monstering the courage to speak after spitting on his eye. 

Henry wiped the saliva from his face slowly. He stared at her, watching her chest move up and down on a fast pace. He didn't slap or throw punches like she expected, rather, he pushed her; sending her on her hands that was tied behind her on the bed. Henry stood over, watching her struggle to sit up. He climb on the bed, and caressed her face. 

Why couldn't she see that everytime she disrespected him she got hurt? Was she enjoying the pain? Because he didn't enjoy hurting the woman he promised to love for eternity. 

Henry licked her ear. His breathe sent chills down her spine. If it hadn't been for the bruises, the blush on her face would have shown. He carried his tongue from her ear to her neck, the middle of her breasts, her stomach, and stopped at her vagina. 

She wanted to yell at him to stop, but she also wanted him to take off her dress and give her a head. Michelle suppressed the moans that wanted to escape her lips. She disposed the urge of bitting her lips, holding him closer to her till they wouldn't breathe. The pain kept distracting her. 

"Stop it, Henry," she murmured as he squeezed her breast. 

He didn't deserve her— not anymore. 

He got up from on top of her and walked out of the room, leaving her with the burning sexual desire all over her. He hadn't been helping her. He was actually hurting her in a more unique way. She felt the pain of what he had done. It was equally painful like the physical abuses. 

Who did she married? The real question was "what did she marry? He did things that no normal human would do. Why did Henry change suddenly? 

Michelle was confused. 

"You know it is unconstitutional to suspend me without a known reason," James said to Luther as Luther stood in is office. 

Luther had decided to visit James at the office before going to pick up Ashley from the airfield. He still had about thirty-five minutes. Ashley plane was due to land in fifteen minutes, and it was a ten-minutes drive from the office to the airport. 

"You want to know why I'm suspending you?" Luther rested his fists on the ebony table in James Palmus' office, staring straight at his eyes. "I consider you a threat to my well-being; therefore, you must be suspended until after my doubts are cleared."

"You are being irrational. And paranoid."

"And you are being a fool." Luther lifted his weight from on the table. He stood straight. "Since it's my wife you want to work for, you are free to. You should be thanking me for removing the burdens from on your shoulders."

"Luther—" James began. 

"I have a title," Luther interrupted. 

"Senator, you aren't a fool to suspend me, are you?"

"Another curse from you again, you will be fired. Hope I have made myself clear here, James." He walked to the door. "Another thing. If you don't tell me in the next forty-eight hours what I need to know, you'll also be fired," he said with seriousness written all over his face, and walked out of the office. He didn't want the conversation to take another direction, so it was better they stayed in the position they were in. 

James banged his desk after Luther left. He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. He had two option on the table: his job and his reputation. Those things mattered the most. 

The only thing he could do was save himself— the most impossible of all.