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Underestimated Part 21

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"I need to know, Ry."

"Because you need to decide whether or not you should marry me?" It wasn't actually a question. I was just stating a fact.

"I am marrying you, Riley Murphy. I love you. But we have been together for over a year, and I know that there is so much that you haven't disclosed. Why won't you tell me?"

"Why did I ever get involved with a cop? I should have gone out with Levi. He probably wouldn't care about my past. But nooo. I had to go fall in love with someone with investigating training."

"Investigating training?" Dawson said light heartily with a smile. I smiled back. I couldn't help it. He was just too darn cute.



I took a deep breath. "What do you want to know?"

"I want to know everything, but right now I just want you to tell me how you left. What made you decide to leave?"

"Remember that I told you that Rebecca started to go everywhere with Derik and me?"

"Mmhmm."

"Well, after a few times. Derik stopped stalking me in the library. He was p.i.s.sed that he couldn't get me alone anymore, and pretty much pretended that I didn't exist."

"Did Derik always drive you?"

"Mostly, I think he was the only one that Drew trusted. Drew gave me a cellphone so that he could track my whereabouts and call when he wanted."

"Did you drive?"

I snorted. "No. I did get my driver's license when I turned twenty one. I'm not sure why. I was never allowed to leave without Derik, Rebecca and sometimes Jena, but if I was with Jena, either Derik or Drew himself followed."

"And Rebecca?" he asked.

"We were in the library right after Drew had agreed to keep her on for one more year. I was looking for a book that I had been waiting to come out. It was the third in a series."

I smiled, when I noticed that Dawson wasn't the least bit interested in the book that I had been so excited about.

"Anyway, I looked up, and Rebecca was giving me some sort of strange look. We were never close, like in talking about anything personal. We talked, but she would mostly just listen. I think she was afraid of what Drew would hear."

"What, Rebecca," I asked.

"You need to leave, Morgan," she stated, and for some reason I knew that she wasn't talking about leaving the library. I feigned ignorance anyway.

"I have twenty more minutes," I stated.

"You need to leave Drew, Morgan. I am going to help you. We have nine months to get you out of there, and I will be gone. I don't think I would ever forgive myself if I left and didn't at least try. I may end up dead, but at least I would die without a guilty conscious."

"Rebecca, you know that I can't just leave. I can't even leave the house without a babysitter. I have nowhere to go. I wouldn't go back to where I came from. He would just find me."

"We are going to figure it out. I promise, Morgan."

I kept looking to Dawson, trying to read his face.

Every time that I did, he leaned in and kissed me.

"So, how did you two scheme up your disappearance?"

"We never talked about it again for a month. Drew had beaten me pretty good one evening, and the next day she brought it up again while she brought me food."

"Why did he beat you up?"

"I thought you wanted to know how I got out."

"I want to know it all," he insisted.

I turned my gaze back to my little mountain that I had been forming from funneling sand through my hand.

"I had to go to another one of his events," I started with a heavy sigh. I hated Drew's events, dinner parties, and prospect meetings. I knew what it meant. I was never going to make it through one of his engagements without messing up. He knew it. He thrived on it. He knew that we would come home, and he would play his sick games with me. That was really the only time that he raised a hand to me. It was inevitable. I would screw up somehow.

"I was having my hair and makeup done when he came into to check on my progress. He was rus.h.i.+ng me, or the stylists, I guess. I wasn't intended to go to this particular event. I overheard him telling someone that I wasn't feeling well, and I wasn't going to be able to make it. He then went on to suck up to whoever was insisting that I be there."

"I'm actually looking forward to this night," he whispered close to my ear, holding his hand around my throat while he glared at me through the mirror with a warning.

I took my normal lecture in the back of the limo.

Don't talk to anyone, but Jena. Don't look at anyone, don't answer questions, and the most important one of all that night. I was in no way allowed to talk to Mr. Callaway alone, and if he asked, I was to tell him that I rather my husband stay. I wondered who Mr. Callaway was. I knew that Drew said that he was his father. I wasn't sure that I believed that. He called him Mr. Callaway. Why would anyone call their father by Mr.? Even for a f.u.c.ked up family like that, it seemed off to me. This would be at least a dozen times that I would have the pleasure of being beaten because he insisted, every time that I talk to him in private. Drew never helped. He walked away with his tail between his legs.

Jena never showed, only Derik. He said that she had come down with something and wasn't feeling well. I really wanted Jena to be there.

I saw Mr. Callaway being pushed around in his wheelchair. Drew looked over and told me not to look at him.

What the f.u.c.k?

I turned my gaze away from him. I knew that I was going to be in trouble regardless, so I asked.

"What's wrong with him, Drew?"

He shot me a death glare. "Don't ask questions that don't pertain to you. That's one," he warned, holding up one finger. One what, I didn't know. It could mean anything with him.

My dress had an open back and Drew kept his hand there. It made me sick that he made all of these people think what a wonderful husband he was. He never kissed me unless it was in public around people that he was trying to impress.

Mr. Callaway of course made his way over to me.

I couldn't figure out what his interest was in me. Why did he always insist that I be pulled to the side with him?

"Leave us Drew," he boldly stated as soon as he was wheeled by his caretaker to us.

"With all due respect, Mr. Callaway, I would like for Drew to stay," I tried. I did want him to stay. This guy was just going to ask about my happiness like he cared about my wellbeing.

"Nonsense, leave!" he demanded. Drew walked away. I looked past Mr. Callaway and Drew held up two fingers. I almost rolled my eyes at him, but caught myself, knowing that I would get the third finger.

Mr. Callaway gently took my hand, beckoning me to sit. "You look absolutely gorgeous, as always."

"Thank you, sir."

"How are you doing? I missed you last month for our grand opening."

I had no idea what he was talking about. Drew didn't tell me things that pertained to his business.

"Drew said you weren't feeling well. Is everything okay?"

No. You old moron, I am married to a monster. I don't feel so well at all.

"Yes. I'm fine. Thank you for asking. It was just a little bug," I lied.

"How is Drew treating you? Everything okay at home?"

What the h.e.l.l? Who the h.e.l.l are you, and why do you care?

"Yes, everything is wonderful."

I had no idea what this guy's deal was, but for some reason he felt the need to go on and on about his son.

Michael. I mean, I'm not cold hearted or anything. I did have compa.s.sion for the guy losing his only son. I just couldn't understand why he felt the need to tell me, especially with my obstinate husband glaring scalpels at me.

Chapter 10.

"What was the party for?" Dawson interrupted when I got silent, thinking about the party.

"I don't know, some software launch or something," I lied. I wasn't about to tell him Drew owned fifteen different jewelry stores throughout the country. It wouldn't be hard to pinpoint the Callaway name to them now that I had volunteered the old man's name. It was better that he thought he was some kind of software developer from Indiana. Maybe someday I would tell him, but not yet. I couldn't take the chance. I knew Dawson would go after him, and probably end up dead.

"Why did he not want you to be alone with this man?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know. I still don't know. I never did figure out what his interest was in me. Drew had told me the first time that I met him that his father was none of my business, but I'm not so sure if the guy was truly his dad."

"Did you ever meet any of his family?"

"No. I don't even know if he had family, other than Mr. Callaway."

"What happened after the party?"

"Let's go up to the house, and save that for another time," I tried.

He pulled me toward him causing me to knock over my sand creation with my foot. He kissed the corner of my mouth and then whispered.

"I love you, Riley, and that was a real nice try," he smiled.

I leaned my back to his side, and he put his arm around me.

"We left almost immediately after Mr. Callaway was wheeled away. Drew didn't say a word all the way home. He did put his hand out for my rings once again which I without a problem, I handed over to him."

"Where are you going?" Drew asked once we were inside.

"To change?" I said in a question, asking for permission.

"Uh-uh, go to the gym. I want you to watch."

I knew he was talking about the mirrored wall, but I asked anyway. "Watch what?"

That was the first blow to my face that night, and the blood from my lip ran down my sky blue dress.

"That!" he demanded and shoved me toward the gym.

I looked around the gym puzzled. The room was empty. The weight bench, the elliptical, the treadmill, it was all gone. Other than the one padded bench, and the small refrigerator in the corner where bottles of water were kept, the room was empty, and I didn't understand why. I took a towel from a rack in the gym and dabbed it on my already swollen lip, glad that it was still there.

I jumped when I heard the doork.n.o.b turn, but it hadn't turned at all. I was hearing it lock. I walked over to it and sure enough, I was locked in. I didn't understand that either. All Drew had to do was tell me to stay in there, and I would have. It was just another one of his mind games.

I stood there for probably ten minutes waiting for I didn't know what. I just knew that his plan wasn't to lock me in that room and leave me alone. I took a deep breath and walked to the far wall. I slid down the wall and sat on the s.h.i.+ny hardwood flooring.

"Stand up!" I heard him say through an intercom that I didn't know was there.

Okay. Here we go with the head games.

I stood up but stayed leaning against the wall.

"Walk to the middle of the room and stand in front of the mirror. You need to see what a stupid b.i.t.c.h you are."

I wanted to yell, f.u.c.k you. It was a very strong urge, but I didn't do it. I walked to the middle of the room and stood in front of the mirror like a proper little submissive.

It must have been fifteen minutes before he spoke again, and that was because I spoke first.

"Can I take off my heels?" I asked to the empty room.

"Did I say you could take off your heels?"

I rolled my eyes and didn't answer. My feet where killing me and my lower calves were starting to ache.

"You can take off the dress," he said.

I didn't want to take off the dress. I wanted to take off the d.a.m.n shoes. The dress was the only thing that I had on. It was cut low so I couldn't wear a bra with it, and of course I wasn't allowed to wear panties. I did as he requested and slid the dress from my shoulders, and down to the floor.

"Turn around," I heard him say from wherever the h.e.l.l he was.

I turned a half a turn, and he told me to keep going.

I turned some more and when I stopped he told me to keep turning.

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