8th April, 2018.
“Think they liked me?” Rose asked Peter, hands twisting around the sheets as she eyed him anxiously.
Peter shook his head. He sat by the side of the bed to take off his shoes. “Why would anyone not love you, least of all my own parents?” He twisted around to meet her pensive look with a reassuring one. “They’ve been eager to meet you for ages now, believe me, Mom’s over the moon. We share everything, and this is the first time I will hold out on them.”
Rose released a breath. “Really?”
Peter laughed. “Really. Now can we sleep? Dad would expect help on the farm tomorrow.”
Rose reached out to turn off the bedside lamp. Peter stripped and joined her, reaching out to finger her hair. Rose closed her eyes and smiled as he pressed a kiss to her neck.
“Night, my love,” he said.
“Night,” Rose returned, snuggling closer to his warmth and savoring the weight of his hand on her waist.
“Love?” Rose forced her eyelids open as Peter left the bed. She squinted in the dark, trying to make out his shadowy form.
“Shhh.” Peter leaned down to kiss her forehead. “I just need to shake the president real quick.”
Rose yawned. “OK.”
The restroom was just down the hall. Rose settled back to await his return. To think she’d worried herself sick for nothing at the prospect of meeting Peter’s parents. They were the warmest people she’d ever met after her fiancee, Peter. Her soon-to-be Mother-in-law, Jane had even praised her fashion sense and begged for Rose’s company for their scheduled shopping trip tomorrow.
Yeah, the dreaded visit had been awesome.
Rose turned over to push her face into the pillow that reeked of sunshine and good living. The door opened. She smiled.
She couldn’t wait to be Peter’s wife.
A rush of air brushed her bare legs hanging below the sheets, just before it was jerked off her. Rose froze. Then she smiled and turned over.
“Babe, I thought you needed rest for--”
Rough hands closed around the neck of her T-shirt and tugged. Rose’s legs went boneless, her heart stopped beating, and the air around her became heavier. Her breathing stalled and the hairs on the back of her neck rose to stand on end. She shivered.
Rose raised her hands to the hand wrapped around her shirt. When she touched a hairy arm, her heart began to pound sickly beneath her breast.
Peter was not hairy. It was a long-standing joke between them. He loved her hair because he had none.
The neckline of her T-shirt tightened around her neck, cutting off her air supply as the hand stretched and tugged. The tearing sound of her shirt galvanized Rose and she scrambled backward.
Softer hands caught her by the legs and drew her back firmly. The air became filled with pants and rush of breaths. Hands closed around her naked breasts and squeezed so hard it robbed her of breath.
Rose saw stars.
This was really happening.
She gulped in air, released it and let out a scream, “Peter.”
A hand clamped around her mouth, and another drew her back to a familiar hard body. Peter’s.
Rose stopped struggling, her chest rose and fell with her ragged pants, echoing Peter’s harsh breaths behind her.
She ran her tongue over her lips. “Peter?”
“Shhh, love.” He kissed her temple. “It will be over soon.”
Rose shook her head. “What?”
Fingers wrapped around the elastic bands of her pants and whipped it off. With a powerful lunge, Rose pushed away from Peter and dove for the bedside lamp. She landed hard on the ground on all fours. Pain streaked from her knees all over her body. She moaned.
Hands wrapped around her legs and dragged her to the bed. With another desperate heave, Rose stretched for the bedside lamp and pulled.
At the sudden flood of light, everyone stopped moving. The sound of harsh breaths, pants, and her terror filled the room. Rose turned.
She went cold all over.
Her eyes caught Jane’s. She stood by the bed, completely naked with a long cane in her hand. Peter’s father knelt on the bed, eyes wide with her panties held in his fists.
Rose stared at her panties in his hairy hands and forgot to breathe. Her stomach contents roiled.
Head heavy, her whole body numb, pain ballooning through her insides, Rose turned to Peter.
He curled his hand around her ankle. “I told you we shared everything.”
Rose stared at him in shock. She stretched a trembling hand towards him. “L-L-love, this isn’t what we--” she ran her tongue over her dry lips, eyes flitting sideways to check on his parents, “this wasn’t what we agreed.”
Peter raised an eyebrow. “You agreed to marry me.”
Rose gave a hesitant nod. “Because I-l-l-love you.”
He smiled.
Rose clenched her fists. How had she ever thought his smile charming? Now that the veil of infatuation was lifted from her eyes, she could see him for what he really was, a pig.
“Till death do us part?” he tightened his hold on her ankle.
Jane took a step forward and Peter senior drew her panties to his nose and inhaled deeply. Rose whimpered. Heart pounding, cold sweat spread all over her and she stared at the door in longing. Between her and freedom stood three crazy people. She had no chance.
“Please, Peter,” she gave him a watery smile, “we can talk this through. Maybe--”
He shook his head and drew her forward. “Maybe nothing. Because it’s your first time, we will be quick.”
Jane held the cane out. Rose closed her eyes instinctively and flinched, waiting for the blow. But it never came. Somehow, closing her eyes magnified her fear. She forced her eyes open.
The first thing she saw was the cane, fat and long, it was a fit punishment for her previous sins, real and imagined. But did she really deserve it?
“Peter, please, I beg you. For what we had--”
He frowned. “This is what we have. Step out of that fucking Disneyland you have in your head.” He lifted her leg to his mouth and pressed a kiss to her instep. Rose stifled her disgust at the touch that previously brought her pleasure.
Peter lowered her legs carefully. “This is real, my love. This is us.”
As she watched, the cane moved. Rose stopped breathing. Jane brushed her nipple with the cane. Rose’s breath left her in a rush. A blast of cold wind from the open windows wafted through the room, and her nipples stiffened. Deep inside her, something tightened. Shame and fear twisted through her. Rose pressed her legs together.
“Oh, no you don’t.” Peter laughed. He held her other ankle and spread it open. It left her open to the avid gaze of his father, her ex-future-father-in-law. To make matters worse, the cold brushed through her crotch and the walls of her inside.
Rose sobbed as Peter senior walked forward to climb the bed.
Peter junior handed one ankle to Peter senior. Rose closed her eyes as waves of humiliation spread through her.
What had Amy said? Never trust a man who bears the same name as his father. Had she been so hungry for love she’d fallen for the first man who showed interest?
Peter Senior’s hand crept up the inside of her thigh. The closer he got to his destination, the thatch of curls between her legs, the faster her breath came. Bile rose in a tide up her throat, nearly choking her.
Rose coughed, sputtering and jerking, her whole body shook with the force of her emotions. The hand on her thigh stopped. The cane on her breast stopped tweaking her nipple.
Rose laughed harder.
“Son,” Jane asked, “what’s wrong with her?”
Rose burst into fresh peels of hysterical laughter. Peter Junior released her ankle. For a second. But that was all Rose needed. She tightened her grip on the lamp cord and hurled it with all her might at Jane.
The lamp shattered on impact and Jane went down with the shards. Rose had one sweet moment where her eyes met Jane’s shocked ones before she keeled over.
“You bitch.” Peter Junior launched himself at her, and missed. Peter senior ran to attend to his wife.
Rose didn’t wait. She ran for the nearest exit, the window.
A loud cry pierced the night, breaking the tension. One leg on the bed, the other on the ground and poised in pursuit, Peter Junior froze. He turned to stare at his father.
Peter Senior gather his wife into his arms, as tears flowed down his cheeks. Eyes wide to their fullest extent, Rose stood by the window staring at the big man cry like a baby.
“Jesus, Dad,” Peter sighed in disgust, “she just fainted, she will be up soon.”
Peter Senior raised tear-stained cheeks. “Are you sure? But there’s blood, my Jane is dying, oh God.”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Peter turned to Rose then, “don’t you move a muscle.”
He ran to his parents, raised Jane by the shoulders, drew his hand back and slapped her hard.
“Son, what do you think you are--”
Peter Junior snorted. “She’s awake now.”
Rose unlatched the window and pushed it open. She stared out and saw nothing but empty darkness. Could she jump?
She bit her lip in apprehension and glanced back to find Peter almost upon her.
She jumped.
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