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 A Shadow Past

Chapter Six:

If Jessie had been a little savvier, she would have picked up on the dangerous shift in his temperament. But, she was still under the impression that he was in no way a real threat to her.

"You little bitch; who the hell do you think you are? I chose you, placed you above all the others, honored you by asking you to be my wife, and this is how you repay me?"

"How I repay you? I’m not your servant, or some peon you’ve elevated out of obscurity. I don’t know what gave you the idea that you’re Mr. Important, but I’ve got news for you…you’re far from it!"

John cocked his head slightly, a tight smile forming that never reached his eyes. In a deceptively quiet voice he said, "I am Jonathan Stuart Huntington, the fourth. My family lineage can be traced back to royalty, and my pedigree is impeccable."

Jessica looked at him as if he had grown a tail. "That’s a perfect example of what I’m talking about! You’re acting like some sort of snobbish blueblood, but in all the time I’ve known you, you’ve never said anything about family lineage, or social standing. If that’s so damned important to you, why haven’t you mentioned it before?"

"I’m a Huntington; I assumed even a halfwit would know about my family."

"Well, John, you know what they say about people who assume."

His eyes narrowed. "You’re willing to throw everything away because you think digging in the dirt is more important than what I offer you?"

"After what you’ve said tonight, it wouldn’t matter if you were the last man on this planet; there’s no way in hell I would ever marry you."

"You know what your problem is, Jessica? Somewhere along the way you started seeing yourself as my equal. You forgot that a woman’s true place is at her husband’s side, providing for his needs. You put that pretentious title in front of your name, and you started thinking you were somebody."

"Save it for someone who gives a damn, John. Get out of my house. I’ll have someone drop your stuff off later." She started to turn away from him, but gasped out loud when he grabbed her upper arm, yanking her towards him.

"I’m not finished."

"John, you’re hurting me. Let go."

"Now Jessica, don’t be like that." He leaned down until he was right in her face. "So, I’m not good enough for you, is that it? You know, there are plenty of other women who would love to take your place." He sneered at her. "That’s all right, darlin’. I’ll go. But before I do, why don’t we have one more round just for old times sake, hmmm?" With that, he started dragging her towards the bed.

Jessie dug her feet into the carpet, pulling away from him. "No, John. Just let me go, and leave."

He tightened his grip, bruising her. "No, I don’t think I will. You don’t want to be my wife—that’s fine. I’ll just treat you the way you deserve to be treated, because you sure as hell aren’t worthy of anything else." With that he shoved her, hard.

Jessie fell onto the bed, momentarily disoriented because of the unexpectedness of his actions. When she regained her equilibrium, he had already stripped off his shirt and was pushing his jeans over his hips. Shock cost her several precious seconds; by the time she tried to get away, he had grabbed one of her ankles and yanked her roughly toward him. Fear washed over her like ice water. "Dear God, John, don’t do this!"

"God’s not going to help you now, Jessica," he said as he ripped her panties off.

Jessie began struggling in earnest, kicking and pushing against him as he tried to pin her down with his body. She managed to get both hands against his right shoulder and she pushed with everything she had, catching him off balance and giving her the momentary advantage. Rolling in the opposite direction, she got halfway up on her hands and knees before she felt his hand clamp down on the back of her neck, his elbow digging painfully into her spine as he shifted his weight over her, pushing her into the mattress. Jessie panicked when she realized he had her pinned, feeling as if her spine was near the breaking point; she literally could not move. "John, please don’t do this, this isn’t something you would do," she pleaded.

"Jessica, Jessica, Jessica…am I not living up to your little perfect gentleman fantasy? Did you misjudge me?"

The pain between her shoulder blades from his elbow took away any ability to resist. Grabbing her thigh with his free hand, he yanked it sideways, leaving her completely exposed, the nightgown bunched up around her waist from her struggles. "What’s the matter, Doctor Watson? Did you think you were somebody important, one of the big boys?"

Jessie squeezed her eyes shut when she realized John was fully erect. While he held her down with one hand, he used the other to drag the head of his penis up and down her slit. Her eyes flew open, though, when he bypassed her vagina and pressed his cock against her anus; he had never touched her there before.

"You want to act like a man, Jessica? Then you have to learn to take it like a man." And with one violent thrust, he shoved his cock into her unprepared body.

Jessica screamed as the lancinating pain tore through her. Any hint of the man she thought she had known was gone. Her screams turned to sobs as John continued to violate her, the sadistic assault unrelenting; every movement was intended to inflict pain. His elbow dug into her spine as he used it as leverage, keeping her in place while he raped her.

"What’s the matter, Jessica? Did you take on more than you could handle? I’m not hearing any of your eloquent speeches now, you stupid bitch. You run out of things to say?" Letting go of her neck, he grabbed the sides of her hips, pulling her to him, his fingers digging cruelly into her hipbones while he savagely sodomized her.

Jessie felt herself pulling back mentally, a reflex borne of survival instinct as well as an effort to preserve her sanity. A strange detachment set in. While she could hear herself crying and could hear John talking, it was as if the attack was happening to someone else and she was just an observer. Jessica didn’t fight it; it was the only way she could escape.

John felt his climax approaching, the wave of power hitting him in a potent rush. Letting go of her hips, he lay with his full weight on her, crushing her into the mattress, grinding his hips deeply with each stroke.

"You will always remember this," John hissed in her ear, the words becoming grunts as he ejaculated into her ass, the vile attack finally coming to an end.

There was a span of silence; seconds or minutes she had no idea. Jessie was only vaguely aware of the bed dipping as he got up, then she heard the shower come on in the bathroom. Chills began to wrack her body as the realization of what had happened sunk in. She was still too far gone to be able to get away; the best she could manage was to pull the edge of the blanket over her battered body. After what seemed like an eternity, John came out of the bathroom, showered, a towel wrapped around his waist. He gathered his clothes as he regarded her coldly.

"You just made the biggest mistake of your life, Jessica. You could have had it all, if you hadn’t let your stupidity get in the way." Dropping the towel, he started getting dressed. "It’s a shame, really. You were that close," he said as he held his thumb and index finger an inch apart, "to having all your dreams come true. But you had to let that misplaced sense of pride, that ego of yours destroy it all." Sitting down on the footstool, he pulled on his shoes. "Don’t bother sending my things to me; there’s nothing here that I can’t replace, or that’s worth having. Cunts are a dime a dozen; it won’t be hard to find another one." Getting up, he walked to the door before turning back to look at her. "Besides, I’ve got my whole life to look forward to. You," he snorted, "well…you’ve got your shovel and bucket. Have fun playing in your sandbox."

She listened as he walked into the living room, heard the scrape of his briefcase against the floor as he picked it up, and the sound of his retreating footsteps just before he slammed the door. His tires burning rubber out of the driveway was the last she heard of Jonathan Stuart Huntington.

It took her almost thirty minutes before she could pull herself together enough to get out of bed, limping to the front door so she could engage the slide bolt. Logical thought wasn’t something she was capable of at the moment. There was one thing and one thing only on her mind; to get into the shower. She had started shaking again, and it took her three tries before she could actually step into the tub without falling. Not trusting herself to stand, she sat down, blindly reaching out and turning on the water, activating the lever for the shower. She rocked back and forth, sobbing quietly as she tried to wrap her mind around the last hour. John’s face, the hatred, the rage, what he had said…what he had done. Her sobs turned to muffled screams as the scene unfolded in her mind. Grasping the bar of soap, she began washing her body, trying to erase his scent, his touch, the absolute pain he had inflicted. Between the steam and the tears in her eyes, she didn’t see the bruises that were already forming around her ankle, the ones that were a perfect match to his fingers across both hipbones, the larger oval one near the center of her back from where his elbow had been. She swallowed hard against the rising bile in her throat as the final minutes of the assault played out behind her closed eyes.

‘You will always remember this.’

Jessie pressed her fisted palms against her forehead. "No," she whispered, the sound of the water raining down on her drowning out the word. As much as she tried to banish it, she could still hear the echo of his voice in her ear.

‘You will always remember this.’

She shook her head vigorously, her mouth compressed into a tight line. "No," she repeated, her voice cracking.

‘You will always remember this.’

"Like hell I will, you son of a bitch."

Of all the things he had said and done, it was that one line which pulled Jessie out of the sickening torment, the one thing that separated the mental anguish from her aching body. Reaching out with a trembling hand, she pulled herself to her feet, scrubbing herself from head to toe in an effort to be rid of what he had done to her. Within an hour she had showered, dried and dressed. Three large suitcases held all her essentials. A large plastic storage container contained what other things she didn’t want to part with. A phone call took care of the rest.

"Hello?"

"Jackie, it’s Jessie."

"Hey, what’s up?"

"I need you to do me a favor. I’m going to leave you some money in an envelope, first shelf of the bookcase, next to Shakespeare. Use your key to get in. Rent a storage unit, have movers come and get the storage container in front of the bookcase, and all the books."

"Jessie, what happened?"

"I’m going to Egypt. Remember they had offered me a chance to head an excavation of one of the pyramids? Well, I’m taking them up on it."

"But…but what about John?"

"We’re no longer together."

Jackie could tell by the tone in Jessie’s voice that she wasn’t going to be anymore forthcoming than that. "Okay, movers take the container and books to storage. What about the rest of your stuff?"

"Any furniture, whatever, take your pick, give it to friends, it doesn’t matter."

"Uh…did John pick up his clothes and stuff?"

"No."

"What do you want me to do with his things?"

"Burn them."

"What?"

"You heard me, Jackie. Anything that’s his, burn it."

"Jess, are you okay?"

Her throat threatened to constrict, but she cleared it before saying, "I’m fine. In fact, I’m better than fine. I’m doing what I love, and I avoided making the biggest mistake of my life. I’ve got to go. Money’s next to Shakespeare. I’ll wire you more to keep the storage unit going."

"How long are you going to be gone?"

"I have no idea. It could be as long as a year; maybe more."

Jackie was silent for a moment while she processed that tidbit of information. "Don’t you worry about anything on this end; I’ve got it covered. And girlfriend, if you need anything, or anyone to talk to, you know I’m just a phone call away, right?"

Jessie took a deep breath, blinking back the tears. "I know. And thanks. For everything."

Hanging up the phone, Jessie loaded her suitcases into her car. A trip to the university, some phone calls, a few notes put the final touches on all the arrangements. One of the professors would take care of her car until she came back. With all the ties that bind severed and passport in hand, she was on a plane to Egypt within twenty-four hours.

She swore she would forget the attack, and through sheer stubborn determination that’s exactly what she had done. Until now.

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