Page 2 of Rock the Boat
“Come on, babe,” Matthew excitedly called from the door. He was in a rush to get out the door and to some party he had been talking about for two weeks. I still wasn’t comfortable with appearing on the arm of someone who looked like a Greek god come to life, but this man chose me. If he wanted me to go with him, I would. It was that simple. Besides, I had to get used to it since we were getting married in a week.
Walking out of my room hesitantly, I swallowed and found him waiting by the door for me. He was typing away on his phone, and I was practically next to him and clearing my throat before he looked up. I was waiting on his reaction. He had chosen my outfit of a short denim skirt and white midriff top. I didn’t know where he got them, but he brought them and asked me to wear them to the party, and I couldn’t refuse him. I loved him.
“Wow, babe. You look hot.” He grinned at me before he glanced down at his phone again. It took another couple of minutes before he pocketed his phone, and in that time, I shifted from foot to foot, waiting for something in the heels that were higher than I normally wore and were already hurting my feet. “Hey, so I was wondering, Bell.”
I wasn’t going to correct him. He liked calling me Bell instead of Nell, my actual name. “Yes?”
“How about eloping?”
“Are you serious?”
“Sure. Why not? We can get married tonight by a guy I know, and tomorrow hop on a plane and go on our honeymoon.”
“YES!” I couldn’t wait to be Mrs. Matthew Black, and if I could forgo a big spectacle of a wedding my parents insisted on, then even better.
“Then let’s go. He’ll be at the party tonight.”
Eloquent he was not, and he was your stereotypical jock from California. If it had anything to do with anything physical, he probably did it, and tonight, I hoped, that would include me. We had been together now for almost a year, and while I wanted to wait at first, not willing to give up my virginity to just anyone, I was about to graduate from college and had been trying to get him to sleep with me for the majority of our relationship. He made me horny all the time, and it was getting harder and harder to get off with only my toys or fingers.
I still turned red when I thought about what I did a month ago. I stripped down to nothing, climbed into his bed, and waited for him. He never showed. He had been at another party with his frat buddies and never came back to his apartment. He found me drooling all over his pillow with a wet spot in the middle of his bed because I couldn’t wait for him. I’d drank a six-pack of hard seltzer for courage the night before and lost all sense of reason. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have shown up there, wouldn’t have used the hidden key, wouldn’t have gotten naked, and couldn’t have masturbated in a bed that was not mine.
Instead of touching me or taking what I offered, Matthew lectured me about giving him space and not showing up when he wasn’t around. Since then, I had stayed in my apartment and waited for him to call me. I only wanted to make him happy. Yeah, I sounded naïve, but Matthew wouldn’t cheat on me. He loved me.
I reminded myself to breathe countless times, forced my knee to stop bouncing, and swallowed every minute of the drive to keep any moisture in my mouth. Newsflash, it did not work. I was nervous as hell and going willingly into the lion’s den, but the one thing that kept me grounded was the feel of the ring on my finger. I played with it so much that I was a little surprised it didn’t fly off.
As soon as the car stopped, I looked up. We were in the back parking lot of the restaurant where we had our first date. “I thought we were going to a party.”
“I’m hungry. I thought we could eat first.”
I released a long sigh of relief. I’d worked myself up and didn’t know if I could eat. However, the small reprieve was welcome. “That sounds good.” Opening my door, I shifted to get out, only to be yanked back in. I’d forgotten to undo my seatbelt, and with my shaking hands, it took several attempts to push the button before it released, allowing me to escape the car.
The corner was dark. The light for this part of the lot burnt out. Other cars were here, but most were closer to the building, and there were spots that were nearer to our destination, spots that were illuminated. I wasn’t sure why he picked this particular spot. We hadn’t brought his car; we’d brought mine because he had just had his detailed. So, it wasn’t like he needed to protect his precious Audi. “Matthew?” I couldn’t keep the tremor out of my voice.
“What?” He sounded irritated, but he didn’t look up when I joined him. He was typing away on his phone again.
“Why did we park back here? There are—”
“I have my reasons,” he snapped.
Nodding, I clutched the sides of my skirt, fisting the denim material. “Of course.” He could protect me. He knew what he was doing. I was just a scaredy-cat and a little paranoid, my parents’ lessons about safety warring with my need to please my fiancé.
I tried to grab his hand, to feel the protection of his warmth, but he pulled back. He wasn’t much into PDA or any show of affection. If it weren’t for the little things he did, I would probably believe we were more friends than engaged to be married, but everything would change in a week.
Suddenly, a figure jumped out of the darkness, waving around a very long knife. To me, it looked bigger than the ones on thoseCrocodile Dundeemovies, but a pocketknife would probably look like a machete right now. “Give me all your money!” The voice sounded more feminine than masculine, but the way they were wielding a knife, it didn’t matter much to me. I could be imagining things.
“Took you long enough,” Matthew groused under his breath.
“What?” I gasped. Was this some kind of joke, some sort of hazing from his friends to welcome me into their inner circle? I hadn’t really met any of Matthew’s friends, and he didn’t have any family, so I was more than a little confused. Maybe my mind was playing tricks on me, and I didn’t really hear him say what I thought.
“I said give me your money, bitch!” the thief snapped, pressing the tip of the blade against my throat.
“I…I…d-don’t have anything,” I stammered. I’d left my purse at home and only carried my driver’s license and one credit card in my back pocket.
“Too bad for you, bitch.” The knife sliced my arm, and I screamed. But the person wasn’t done, and Matthew did nothing to help me.
“Finish it. You need to get out of here,” Matthew said. No, it couldn’t be. I had to be hearing wrong. Pain could make you hear and see things that weren’t there.
“My pleasure.” A slice against my lower abdomen had me falling to my knees. And one across the front of my throat told me I would not survive tonight. Matthew had done this. Why? He loved me. Didn’t he? I slumped to the ground, and blackness consumed me. I thought I heard him grunt, but I was probably wrong about that, too.
