MY STORY AFTER TITANIC SANK
Chapter Eight
Rated NC-17 for Content
Cal arrived home early the next
afternoon. I was sitting in our room, dreading his arrival, when he came
through the front door. I knew that he must be very angry to have cut short a
business trip.
Try as I might, I couldn’t
understand what he and Hutchins were saying, though I stood with the door ajar,
listening. I quickly closed it when Cal began to come up the stairs, wishing
there was some way I could lock him out.
He threw the door open with a bang.
By that time, I was sitting by the window, hoping that I could diffuse his
anger.
"Hello, Sweetpea."
He made the endearment sound like a curse. "Did you have a good time while
I was away?"
"Cal…"
"And how is Dawson?"
"I wouldn’t know."
Cal exploded, striding across the
room and slapping my face. "Don’t lie to me, Sweetpea. Mr. Hutchins
told me about how you sneaked out to meet him."
"He’s a liar."
Cal jerked me to my feet. I
stumbled, almost falling.
"The only liar here is
you!" Cal’s voice was growing louder every moment. Realizing that the
servants would gossip if they heard him, he lowered his voice, but his words
only sounded more threatening.
"Hutchins told me about how
you sneaked out to meet Dawson. He saw you hugging and kissing him yesterday, and
he told me about how you slipped past him today to meet him."
"I did not! I only went
shopping yesterday, and I’ve been here all day today."
Cal smiled coldly. "Given
how untrustworthy your behavior has been in the past, why should I trust you
now? Why should I trust you at all?"
I didn’t like the way he was
looking at me. "Cal…"
"I’ll bet that baby isn’t
mine, either," he went on, his voice low and menacing. "I know how
you feel about me, so why would you want to keep my baby? You’ve been sneaking
out to see Dawson all this time."
"No, Cal! I haven’t." I
backed away, my hands moving to cover my stomach in an attempt to protect the
baby. I went on, my words coming in a rush. "Even if I had, I couldn’t be
sure who the father was…"
"Of course you could, Sweetpea.
Do you think I don’t know about ways a woman can prevent conception? And with
your fondness for the lower classes, I’m sure you know, too."
"What?" I’d never heard
of such a thing. "Cal, I don’t—"
He came forward, grabbing me and
shaking me hard. "Stop lying to me, Rose! It won’t work! I will never
raise the child of that gutter rat, and you were a fool to think you could con
me into doing so!" And before I could move away, he balled up his fist and
hit me in the stomach with all his strength.
I crumpled to the floor.
"Cal, no! Please! You’re killing your own child—"
He didn’t listen, too enraged to
even consider anything beyond his own suspicions. I tried to curl up in a ball
to protect the baby—if it wasn’t already too late—but he pulled me up and hit
me again, then threw me on the floor and began kicking me. I struggled, trying
not to cry out—it would only make him angrier—but he didn’t stop until I was
whimpering and gasping in pain.
I was sure he would leave then,
but instead he pulled me to my feet and dragged me to the bed, throwing me on
it.
"Cal, no!" I begged,
knowing what he intended.
"What, Sweetpea? Did you
just tell me no?" His voice was sarcastic.
"Cal, please…haven’t you
done enough already?" My stomach hurt so badly that all I wanted to do was
curl up and pray for the pain to pass.
"Enough?" Cal sneered
at me. "Rose, dear, I’ve only just begun!"
I stared at him, at the bulge in
his pants, huge from lust and rage. As he reached for me, I kicked out, but he
moved quickly and I missed. All I had succeeded in doing was making him
angrier.
He slapped me, the blow so hard
that I tasted blood. He grabbed my feet and took my shoes, throwing them across
the room so that any kick from me would be harmless. Then, even as I struggled to
get up, he shoved my skirt up around my hips and tore off my bloomers, leaving
me bare to his eyes and body.
I twisted in his grip, pulling my
skirt back down and trying to get off the bed. He shoved me back down and
grabbed the front of my dress, ripping it and pulling it off me.
In moments, I was completely
naked. Cal let go of me for a moment as he unbuttoned his pants, and I took
advantage of his distraction, getting off the bed and running for the door. I
didn’t care if all the servants saw me naked; I only wanted to get away.
To my horror, I found that the
door was locked. Cal came up behind me, one hand fondling himself, the other
holding the key.
"Is this what you want,
Sweetpea?" he asked, tossing the key up and down casually.
I lunged for the key, but he just
laughed, tossing it out of my reach and throwing me to the floor. In seconds,
he was on top of me, holding me down while he unfastened his suspenders and
pulled his pants down.
He pushed me against the floor,
spreading my legs and thrusting himself into me. I cried out, but he put his
hand over my mouth to silence me. God forbid that the servants should hear!
He thrust into me again and
again, harder and harder, trying to get a response out of me, but I clenched my
teeth and refused to give him that satisfaction. There was no pleasure in it
for me—only pain, pain that seemed to go on forever.
Finally, after what seemed an
eternity, he drove into me once more, spilling his seed inside my body. He
collapsed atop me, breathing heavily, as I lay on the floor, silent tears
running down my face.
At last, he got up, looking at me
contemptuously. I tried to get up, too, but the pain was too great. His lust
temporarily sated, he picked me up and threw me on the bed, then pulled up his
pants and fastened them again.
He looked at me, smirking when he
saw the bloodstains on my thighs. I could feel the warmth and dampness of the
blood, but wasn’t sure whether it was from the beating or from his brutality
when he had raped me.
"Did you enjoy that?"
he asked me, his voice mocking. "Did I compare to Dawson?"
I wanted to scream at him, to
tell him that Jack was more of a man than he could ever hope to be, but I kept
quiet, knowing that saying such things would only make Cal hurt me more.
"Speechless, Sweetpea?"
He laughed. "I thought as much."
He headed for the door, but
before he opened it, he turned back to me with a cold smile. "Hopefully,
that will take care of the baby, but if not, we can always do this again."
He laughed again as I curled up
tightly. I prayed that it wasn’t too late for the baby, but somehow I knew that
it was.
I wrapped my arms around my
stomach as Cal unlocked the door and left, locking me in again before he strode
calmly down the hall as though nothing had happened.