The accusation stung, but Jossy forced herself to keep her expression calm even as disappointment sank in her chest. "What do you mean Damien? It's not like that at all. And if anything, Noah has been nothing but a gentleman, something I can't say about you."
She was mad, too mad, and the words slipped out before she could stop herself.
But before she could even finish the sentence, the storm broke. Blows rained down on her, her face, her back, her jaw, and her legs. He pulled her down to the floor and struck her again and again, each hit fueled by rage. The pain shot through her body, hot and brutal, and Jossy cried, gasping for air, her arms raised in a desperate attempt to shield herself. Every strike carried his fury, and as usual, he lifted her dress and took her against her will.
Minutes later, Damien staggered back, chest heaving. Without another word, he grabbed his car keys and stormed out as he slammed the door behind him. And then there was silence. Jossy was left lying on the floor, aching in body and soul, but with chilling clarity that this was the last time. The last time, she would ever allow him to have this much power over her. She dragged herself to their bedroom, pain radiating from every part of her body. Each step was heavy, her ribs screaming with every shallow breath. She knew she couldn't just sit there and pretend anymore. She needed to talk to someone, reach out to someone who could pull her out of this nightmare. And she needed to see a doctor, as soon as possible.
Her hand trembled as she reached into her bag. Her fingers brushed against the cool edge of a card, and she pulled it out. Noah Lennox. She stared at the name for a second before instinct overrode hesitation. Without letting her mind argue, she typed the message.
This is Jossy. 911. I'm at our penthouse. Bring back up.