Free Return to Peyton Place by Grace Metalious

“Make me open my mouth, if you can. Maybe I won't let you.”
    â€œCome here.”
    She moved away from him and began to redo the buttons on her nightgown.
    â€œNo,” she said. “I'm not going to let you.”
    He pulled her to him roughly.
    â€œBe sweet,” he pleaded. “Please, be sweet.”
    She laughed up into his face and taunted him. “Listen to my big brave man begging for favors. Sit up, Fido, Mamma give you liver.”
    Ted jumped out of bed and yanked the blankets off her.
    â€œYou little bitch,” he said harshly, his hands trembling. “You little bitch.”
    He grabbed her nightgown at the neckline and tore it from her body and his hands left angry, red marks against her white skin.
    â€œYou love it,” he said into her mouth, bruising her lips as he bit into them. “You love it and you know it.”
    And then it was Jennifer who was insatiable. Her body heaved and her eyes glittered.
    â€œHit me,” she cried. “Hit me.”
    â€œYou're goddamned right I'll hit you,” said Ted. “I'd like to kill you.”
    He used his belt on her until her back and buttocks and thighs were covered with welts and when he finally took her, her lips were red with blood from his shoulder and she fainted.
    â€œDear God, what have I done,” cried Ted.
    He began to weep. “I'll never do it again, darling. Never. My God, I'm no better than an animal. I'll never do it again. Please. Please forgive me.”
    Ted slept at last, the sleep of exhaustion, and for a long time Jennifer lay awake in the dark, smiling. She touched the welts on her thighs, running her fingers over them hard so that the pain burned all through her and her teeth gleamed white in the dark room. She moved so that her back scraped against the sheet, hurting her, and her nipples grew rigid and she felt the tightening of excitement between her legs.
    â€œAgain,” she whispered into Ted's ear. “Again.”
    But Ted did not awaken. He stirred in his sleep and his hand found her breast and covered it gently. And finally, Jennifer, too, slept.
    In the narrow bed in the storage room, Roberta bit her lips to try to stop her trembling. She was stiff with horror and with the effort she was making to keep herself silent.
    I knew it, she thought. I knew something was wrong with that girl. She's crazy, that's what she is, making Ted do a thing like that. Ted was never that kind of boy. He was good and clean. Oh, dear God, what am I to do?
    She waited another half hour and then she let herself out of the storage room and crept back to her own bed, but it did not comfort her. She could not stop trembling.
    She's crazy. Jennifer is crazy. She's making Ted crazy. Oh, dear God, help me. I've got to do something.
    But when the sun rose on another gray, threatening day, she had had no answer to her prayer.
8
    I’ M GOING TO REMEMBER every single thing that happens, thought Allison MacKenzie, as the train pulled away from the Peyton Place railroad station. Everything has to stay very sharp and clear this time, so that when I'm old I'll be able to remember every little detail. Too many things happen, and when they do people always say, “I'll never forget,” but they do, and then the image blurs with time and finally they don't remember very much about anything. I suppose that's why some people keep journals and diaries. They do it so they can never forget what happened to them. But I'll remember everything without writing it down. When I'm very old, I'll remember how it was the day I left Peyton Place to go to New York to sign a contract for my first book.
    Allison had gone to bed late the night before her trip, and even then she had been unable to sleep, and she had awakened early. When she had gone to her bedroom window the tops of the snow-covered trees outside were just turning pink.
    In the east, the sky was the color of a pale, pale winter rose. She breathed deep the cold