My eyes slowly opened. I found myself lying on the canopy bed, but I could not move my arms. It was then that I realized why. My wrists were tied to the bedpost with a thick rope.
Jessie was the only one who could have done this. After all, he did knock me out, which was the cause of the pain to my temple.
“Jessie!” I yelled. “Untie me!”
“No,” his voice said. He was close by.
A few minutes later, he stepped out of the bathroom in a towel. The sunlight coming in through the window glistened his wet hair. I watched as he approached me; wondering what he was going to do next.
“Did you have a nice nap?” my husband bantered.
“No, thanks to you,” I sneered.
He chuckled, and put his hand under my chin. “Kiss me.”
“No.”
“Come on, you know you want to.”
“I do not.”
“No? Too bad…I was going to release you,” he stated with an evil smile.
“I hate you, you-”
Jessie kissed me hard. I could not resist, and returned it. He pulled the blankets off of me; then took their place. He grabbed hold of the top of my gown.
There was a ripping sound, but this time I did not scream.
* * *
I felt Jessie tugging at the rope around one wrist. The rope gradually came loose enough for my hand to be pulled free. He removed it, and began to untie the other.
I lay on the bed causing my husband to believe that I was asleep. The plan was working. My other arm was placed on the bed minutes later. The man that untied me then laid his head down on my bare stomach. I did not move.
“I want to tell you everything, but I do not know how,” he exclaimed, thinking I was asleep. “Problem is that you will surely hate me for real.”
“The truth cannot be that bad, Jessie,” I commented, opening my eyes.
Jessie turned his head; saw that I was awake, then sat up asking, “How long have you been awake?”
“The entire time.”
“You are bantering.”
“Do I look like I am?”
“I cannot believe this.”
I sat up asking, “Is the truth that horrible?”
“Indeed,” he answered, playing with a strand of my hair.
Holding the blankets against me, I leaned over to my husband. “Whisper it in my ear.”
He shook his head, no. Then, held my face between his hands saying, “Susannah, I love you too much to say the truth.”
He covered my mouth with his own, and began pushing me down into a laying position.
Oh, no, he was not going to get out of telling me again. I kneed him where it really hurts as hard as I could.
Jessie sat up and slapped me hard across the face. “You vagrant.”
“Love me huh?” I sneered.
“You want to be tied up again?”
“No.”
Holding my legs down with his knees, he slapped me again and again. “Do not ever do that again, Mrs. Lafayette, or you will get a sound lashing.”
“I am sorry,” I whispered; tears streaming down my face.
Seeing the tears, something inside of him just snapped. He scrambled off the bed, and backed up against the wall.
“I hate you, Jessie. I hate you so much,” I snarled. I did not really hate him; I was just very infuriated.
“I will never make you cry again,” he said. “I promise.”
