Winifred Dawson now felt like a fish flung ashore, helplessly enduring suffocating agony, gasping painfully for air. She wanted the man to spare her, but every plea for mercy only made him treat her more ruthlessly.
She wanted to cry out loud, yet her throat couldn’t fully produce a sound, forcing her to bite her lower lip and silently endure.
The drug was stronger than Leland Burns had anticipated, not nearly enough for what he wanted, and even he didn’t know how long he had been entangled with this woman.
A long-lost joy thumped against his chest, like a dead deer jumping wildly at the tip of his heart. He wanted to embed this person into his body, to merge with his blood, entwine their souls, and never part.
Just let it fall apart…
Leland Burns admitted that at this moment, his feelings were complex, a mix of liking and loathing, unsure if the disgust was directed at himself or at the woman who had trapped him. Knowing it was a snare, yet the eyes that mirrored Winifred Dawson’s made him jump willingly into it.
…
Pain… such immense pain… not just physically but also mentally, Winifred Dawson had never imagined losing herself to a stranger in his bed, betraying Garrison Reeves.
Garrison had proposed to her not long ago; they had planned to marry at the spring equinox next year. Why had it come to this?
Her heart was barren, the bitterness swiftly engulfing her entire body, tears and sweat mingling together.
Leland Burns watched the dazed woman beneath him, annoyed at her distraction in his bed. He controlled her body, turning it away, no longer wanting to see her face, yet inexplicably, the image of her tearful eyes kept flashing in his mind, unsettling him.
His heart felt as if it was being torn, the pain so intense he could hardly breathe, a sweet, metallic taste filling his throat. Leland Burns released the woman beneath him and with a groan, collapsed.
The torture persisted until Leland Burns fell unconscious.
Her bones felt as if they were being broken one by one, and for a long time, there was no response from her surroundings. Winifred Dawson, groggy, realized something might have happened to the man. She gathered her strength, her vision blurred with tears as she saw Leland Burns unconscious with blood at his mouth, startling her.
Her body trembling, she fled the place, the clothes she had worn now just tattered rags on the floor, impossible to wear.
Unbeknownst to her, it had started raining outside, with occasional flashes of white light followed by the rumble of thunder.
Winifred Dawson dared not check on the man, fearing he might awaken and torment her again.
Admitting her fear, she couldn’t retaliate against the man who had violated her; her first thought was to escape, to quickly leave this place, to pretend this night never happened, as if bitten by a dog.
Bearing the physical pain and her usual low blood sugar, she barely touched the ground before kneeling, crying out in pain, fearful of waking the man. She clutched her mouth, then picked up the man’s jacket from the floor, put it on along with some pants.
She looked like a child wearing adult’s clothes, the garment so large it enveloped her, the unique scent of the man still on it, not unpleasant, but at this moment, she despised him, finding the smell nauseating.
Gradually regaining her strength, perhaps the drug wearing off, Winifred Dawson’s vision also cleared enough to see the room’s furnishings. She moved slowly, standing up, staggering to a counter where she grabbed a bottle of water to drink. Spotting a coffee maker, she opened a drawer, trembling hands tearing open and swallowing four sugar cubes, then resting against the counter. After about five minutes, the buzzing in her ears stopped, and she felt less dizzy, her body regaining some strength.
She shook and limped out of the terrifying room.
Unsure of where she could go, she left the hotel and looked around. With no money on her, she couldn’t take a taxi and didn’t want her disheveled appearance seen by others.
Fortunately, she had passed this place before and knew how to get back. Like a smelly old rat, she walked in the dark corners, more vigilant than before, following the streetlights slowly back home. A journey that usually took half an hour took her an hour tonight.
With few people on the streets at night, Winifred Dawson clutched the clothes that weren’t hers, shivering each time a car passed, always feeling watched. Though she kept her head down, her eyes warily scanned her surroundings, fearing another hand reaching out to pull her into the darkness.
Finally home, Winifred Dawson entered the bathroom, turned on the shower, and stood under the cold water, shivering as the icy liquid hit her skin, seemingly unfazed by the cold, repeatedly rinsing until the water slowly heated. She then vigorously scrubbed every inch of her skin as if to wash away the dirt.
While the scent could be washed off, how could she cleanse the ambiguous scars? Her neck was covered in bruises, glaringly evident. Cautiously, Winifred Dawson turned to the bathroom mirror, mustering the courage to look only to feel dizzy and collapse to the floor, tears uncontrollably falling.
She felt so dirty…
If Garrison Reeves saw this, how would she explain it to him?
Thinking of the necklace Garrison had given her just days before when he proposed, now everything had changed overnight. In panic, Winifred Dawson’s eyes widened as she frantically felt her neck, finding it bare. Her necklace was gone.
The horrifying memory surged back, the man choking her, pressing down on her, over and over, each touch painfully etching into her skin…
The necklace must have been left at the hotel.
What should she do? How could she retrieve her necklace? Garrison Reeves was due back today, and Winifred Dawson had no idea how to face him.
Now she was a mess, her mind in chaos, like a person stuck in a swamp, the more she struggled, the deeper she sank. Suddenly, she wished she could just die, to avoid facing the awkward situation, not having to see Garrison’s disappointed look.
Winifred Dawson wiped her eyes, curled up on the bathroom floor, her body cold, struggling to breathe through a blocked nose. She finally lifted her head, took a deep breath, and shakily stood up, leaning against the wall for support.