Chapter Four

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。・゜・(McKayla)・゜・。
(MUSIC IS BAD ROMANCE)

I try my best not to get angry,"He needs somewhere to stay. And I've always told him that our door is open for him. And it always has been, and it always shall remain open."

"Why didn't you consult me in this random decision? It's my house. I'm your husband. You should've asked me first!" He growls, his anger uncontained.

"It's, our house! And I'm not a child! I can make my own choices! I don't need you to tell me what I can and can't do!" I can't hide it anymore, it's slowly slipping out of my mouth without me even realising it.

"I'm your husband! You do as I say! I won't allow that crack head to stay under my roof! Our daughters in this house! How do you know he's safe?" He continues.

"Because I know him better then you!" I yell. "I've known him my entire life!"

"Where has he been for twenty years? After his fame he left you!"

"Just shut up!"

"No! You can't command me! You'll listen to me!" He growls. I feel like he'll slap me, but surely he knows better.

"You say it like I'm an animal! I'm not! I. Am. Your. Wife!" I want to slap him. I want to slap him so hard. To make him gasp in surprise and press an ice pack against his freshly red cheek.

"Then act like my wife." He says stubbornly.

"By doing what Arthur?" I sigh, looking down and rubbing my forehead.

"Maybe," His hands lightly fall to my hips as he pulls me against his chest. I look up at him, his eyes are flooding with lust and power,"Maybe we could go to the bedroom. Maybe we could act like a real man and wife. Show me how much you love me?" He tucks a strange of my loose locks behind my ear, his eyes running over my bulging cleavage.

No.

Not now.

This isn't a good time. We've just argued because my childhood friend is staying. To top that off, my daughter is sleeping in the room next door. It's never felt right for us to have sex whilst she's been in the house.

It always feels...wrong. And I'd hate for Marshall to hear us. That would probably be the worst thing.

"I-I can't Arthur. Not tonight." I stutter slightly, an uncomfortable feeling settling on my chest like a cold blanket.

"Baby. Come on." He murmurs into my ear.

"No. Samantha is asleep and Marshall is in the spare room. It feels wrong to have sex when people are around, or in the house. And my dads downstairs! That's even worse!" I sigh, aggravated at his carelessness.

He huffs again,"You'd do it if you loved me."

"You can't say that."

"I just did!" He growls, biting my ear more roughly.

I slap his arm,"Your pressuring me, stop it."

"Baby come on." There's a sickly sweet tone in his voice, and I hate it.

I quickly think of an excuse,"Honey you've had too much to drink. Maybe tomorrow, okay?"

"No. Wish me a god damn merry Christmas McKayla!" He growls aggressively, slamming his lips down onto mine. I can taste the wine on his lips. The horrible taste.

He pushes me into our room, slamming the door behind us. I press myself against the wall, trying to keep myself away from my bed.

I prepare myself for a horrible night. I cry silently as he performs actions upon me. But I don't protest, he's my husband, I figure that it's normal.

I'm left sprawled across the bed, nude and cold. Arthur has gone out, to celebrate Christmas in the local pub. I shiver at the cold, sitting up slowly as I wince with bruises. I wrap my dressing gown around my and walk out of my room. I scamper into the bathroom and quickly start a shower.

After that, with tears still smeared down my face, I run downstairs. I search in the cupboard until I find bleach. I then run back upstairs, get in the boiling bath and rub bleach onto my hands. I rapidly wash bleach all of my body, washing away any evidence that the unwanted sex down the drain, gone forever. But getting rid of the evidence won't make me forget.

I choke back my tears and wash my sore vagina. It burns more from the bleach, but I bite back my cries of pain.

I quickly hop out of the bath, gently drying my stinging skin with a soft towel. I wrap it around me like a robe and walk back to my room. I pull on one of Arthur's casual soft cotton shirts, that falls around my ass. Tiredly, I climb into the messy bed and let myself fall into a restless sleep.
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Helllooooo people! So Arthur just technically raped McKayla, this is still Domestic Abuse. If this happens to you, then you shouldn't stay quiet, tell somebody. There are hundreds of people you can tell, please don't stay quiet. Oh, and BTW, washing yourself with bleach after rape is the worst, you wash away any evidence. Anyway, please vote and comment! Thanks for reading!
-Kobi_Mathers

P. S. Even though I didn't go into much detail during the rape scene, but I will when it comes to Marshall's and McKayla love making scenes.

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