Please help me.

Claire's POV.

"No!" I screamed, shielding my eyes as another lash of the belt was about to descend on me.

My eyes flung open, staring uncomprehendingly at the formless white world around me. My heart thudded in my chest and I realized I must have been asleep. Cold seeped through, winding on me.

My eyes darted across the room, sweeping in the single chair and the table, the curtain still in place, trying to identify where I was, though my mind was still fuzzy, clouded with fear and confusion.

Where was I?

I shivered, the cold, aching pain in my chest intensifying.

All I remembered was getting lectures from Mark on having an open relationship, and running out of the house in the dead of the night for some sanity.

Then the club...

My head banged in protest, but I paid no heed.

"I got tipsy," I said out, trying to juggle my brain. "And those men trying to harass me."

Just like that, everything came crashing down on me.

Hazel eyes. Jet black hair.

Alex.

"Alex... Warren," I choked out.

My mate!

My eyes flew to the other side of the bed, expecting the man to be sprawled on his side, fast asleep. But the space was empty.

I took a deep, icy breath, though it scoured my nose and throat like sandpaper, and tried to orient myself. My lungs hurt as if from a prolonged struggle to breathe.

A deep unseen shudder shook me.

Gone. My mate was gone. A single tear slid down my face as regret seeped through my veins once more. I knew there was only one reason the man absconded again.

I stood up and stared at myself in the mirror, letting the shame of my body fat shake over me.

It was just as well that the man was gone. After all, I already have a mate.

Mark was—

I stopped short as I leaned to pick up my dress from the chair where it was neatly folded. I shoveled up, panic surging through me.

Mark was going to kill me if he found out I left the house without his permission!

"Shit!" I cursed as I scurried about, grabbing all that belonged to me.

My fingers clasped lightly around the doorknob, careful not to make a sound. The door squeaked softly as it gave way. I stepped inside, my back to the sitting room.

"Mark..." A feminine voice called with a loving, antagonistic mood. "Yes!" She moaned, panting hard like her lifeline was about to be cut short.

That voice!

There was something oddly familiar about it.

I turned swiftly, finding Victoria, my supposed best friend, right under my husband.

I furrowed my eyebrows, narrowed my eyes, and stared at them again, hoping I was wrong.

"Harder, baby! Yes!" She cried as Mark kept slamming into her like a dog.

I watched in horror as his hands went straight to her back and he pushed her closer to himself, her body colliding with his. His left hand left her back and rested on her ass. She grabbed his hair and began to play with the strands.

Delicious," Mark moaned.

"Victoria!" I yelled, steam coming out of my ears. My veins were almost popping out of my fist as I clenched them tightly at my side.

"By the moon goddess!" Victoria screamed the moment her eyes landed on me. She pushed Mark away and sat up straight, her boobs pointed in my husband's face.

Mark's dark quieted eyes rested on me, making me shift from foot to foot. He returned his attention to his mistress and clasped his mouth over a nipple.

"Mark?" I called softly, tears streaming down my face. I hated that I was weak, but I hated the fact that my husband could hurt me to my face without any remorse.

And Victoria?

I thought even if the world was against me, she was the one person I could always count on. She knew everything Mark had done to me, every single atrocity, yet she stooped so low to betray me and my trust in her because of the same man.

"But you said it was okay," Victoria pouted.

I was suddenly jolted into awareness by a piercing sense of panic. My heart thudded in my chest.

"No, you don’t!" I yelled at her as she grabbed Mark's cock, ready to shove it into her pussy again. I raced to where they were and yanked her hair, pulling her away roughly.

"How could you?" The words blew out on a gust of milky vapor, hung on the frozen air like an echo, then disappeared.

"Don't touch her!" Mark growled at me. "Don’t you dare!" He warned.

I knew what his words implied. I knew that if I wanted to keep my skin, I should run away from him. I shifted on my feet, pulling myself back.

"Go on. Run like the coward that you are," Victoria's voice came, taunting me.

"Harlot," I spat at her.

Mark smiled, the corner of his mouth folding up against his hard, and scratched his eyebrow with his index finger.

I turned on my heels, ready to bolt. His hand grabbed my hair, yanking me backward. I fell to the floor on my backside. A whimper left my throat as the burning pain from the crash held me in place. I sighed and made to move.

A scream tore itself from my throat as something hard landed on my head. I shielded my face just before the belt came crashing down again.

"Nooo!" I screamed as the next lash landed on an old injury on my arm that was barely healed. The sound was feeble, just like a thin note of helpless misery, like the muffled sobbing of a child who has given up hope of being comforted.

The beating and pain continued until I succumbed to the pain that shook my very existence.

"Pl...eas..se," I pleaded, my body weak.

The whipping stopped, the belt clanging on the floor unceremoniously.

"Go to your fucking room," Mark panted out, already out of breath. "Now!" He barked.

Choking on my terrified tears, clutching my gown, I stumbled on numb feet up the stairs. I rattled the doorknob frantically, my fingers awkward, the cold metal uncooperative. The latch finally gave way, and with a low sob, I flung myself into the room, where the range gleamed reassured under the hood light and the blue crystal display of the wall clock glowed steadily in the corner.

I sank into the hard bed, grabbed my phone with shaky hands, and dialed the number I swore never to call ever again.

The phone rang continuously, but no one picked up. I shivered, wondering if Rick had been so annoyed he didn't want anything to do with me again. After all, he warned me.

I felt my eyes closing, unable to stay open.

I bit my lower lip. The pain kept me awake. I shook my head, fighting the dizziness that threatened to take me over.

I rang Rick’s number again, not willing to give up.

It was either that, or I die.

The phone rang away again. I lost hope of him picking up, almost certain he wanted nothing to do with me again. Just as I was about to hang up, a click came, signaling the connection secured.

"Hello?!"

"Rick," I whispered. "Please help me. I want to go home."

The phone fell from my hand then, and my eyes shuttered close.