Very quickly, I learned the two sides to Brian James. There was the confident, commanding, yet charming, social persona and the cold, angry, dismissive private man. In public, we seemed a perfect couple. I attended every function with him, dressed as he deemed appropriate. We were always close, his arm around my waist, always quietly conversing. No one knew it was usually snide remarks about others being hissed into my ear or remarks about something I was doing to displease him. I learned to keep my eyes downcast and my face blank. His need for validation was obvious in his insistence of documenting all our involvement with the various organizations. I fast became weary of the attention, but he thrived on it. His seemingly doting attention, however, immediately halted when we were away from the cameras and people. In private, I was left alone most of the time.
Our sex life, even from the start, was almost non-existent. While we were dating, I found it romantic that he was holding himself back, that he cared for me enough to wait. After we were married, the few fumbling attempts were disastrous, ending with him cursing and angry and me weeping, unsure of what I was doing wrong. I had very little experience and the blame was laid entirely at my feet. Brian had no problem informing me I was cold and unresponsive and, once again a total disappointment to him. I tried to please him in other ways but to no avail. A week after we returned from our short honeymoon, he informed me the room across the hall was now mine. He would be staying in the master suite. The only time he would enter my room was to inform me of an engagement or to inflict one of his many punishments for an error on my part. Of which there were many.
A noise in the hall startled me out of my thoughts. It was still early, but the house was beginning to stir. Brian’s father would be coming for breakfast as he did every Sunday morning. He was the only person I ever saw Brian bow down to. He still controlled the reins at James Enterprises and constantly held a not so silent threat over Brian’s head to take the company away from him. I also knew on some level that was one of the things that drove Brian to be so insistent on the appearance of perfection. That on one level, somehow, I was worth something to him, that my presence was needed, but why it was I still didn’t know.
I rolled over; cringing at the memory of the first time Brian had used his hands instead of his words to inflict pain. We had only been married a couple of months but I already knew it was a huge mistake on my part. Nothing I did pleased Brian. I was found lacking on every level. He treated me like an object to order around rather than a wife. We didn’t even share a bed. And, the control I once found comforting now was oppressive. I had heard him come upstairs and I went to my door asking to speak with him.
Once he was in the room, I told him the truth. Obviously, he didn’t love me. I wasn’t happy and I didn’t think he was either. That perhaps it would be best to divorce and go our separate ways. At first, he stood listening to my halting words, showing no emotion, but the next thing I knew, I was slammed into the wall, his hands gripping my wrists painfully over my head.
“That will never happen, Elizabeth. Divorce is not an option. You are mine until I decide otherwise. This is your life. Get used to it,” he snarled in anger. His hands tightened until I was whimpering in pain. I was sure he was about to break both my wrists. “If you so much as step out of line you will pay for it. Do you understand?”
I nodded, unable to speak with the pain he was inflicting. “You will do what I say, when I say it. I own you. And, that is not going to change.” He pushed down even heavier on my trapped wrists and we both heard the snap.
He pulled away and I sank to the floor, staring up at him in agony and terror.
“Don’t bring this subject up again.” And, he had walked out of the room slamming the door. I had sat there weeping for the longest time. The next morning he took me to the doctor, who set my wrist and put on a cast without asking me a single question.
It was then I knew how truly alone I was.
Brian was right. He owned me. My parents were gone, and I had only a few acquaintances, but no friends in my life. He had made sure of that. There certainly wasn’t anyone I was close enough to that could protect me from Brian. He was too powerful and well-known here. I was viewed as a rich man’s wife, living a life most women dreamed of. No one was aware of my nightmare. I had no money of my own, no job and no one to turn to for help. I had blindly allowed Brian to isolate me entirely.
I sat up in bed with a startling thought.
My memory was back. And, while some things were still fuzzy, others were crystal clear.
Now I understood why Brian didn’t want me to remember. Why he had wanted to find me.
To make sure I kept quiet.
If he knew I had remembered, I would be in even more danger than I was before.
The stillness of the room was broken by my whispered plea.
“Oh, God, Joshua, I need you.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Rabbit
I checked my reflection in the mirror. I was pale and looked tired. But my hair was perfect and my outfit impeccable. I drew in a deep breath, paused and then took another, desperately trying to calm my nerves. I had to do this. I steeled myself and went downstairs to join Brian and his father for breakfast.
They were both in the dining room and I greeted them quietly before sitting down at my place. “You are pastier than usual, Elizabeth,” observed Douglas James with his customary snide bluntness. “As well as tardy.”
I shook my head. I was already found lacking, and I had just walked in. “I apologize. I have another headache. It will pass.”