Free The Art of Redemption by Ella Dominguez Page B

cheek.
    Her pulse pounded erratically in her temples as she became breathless. Her body began to ache under the weight of his heavy body, but she forced herself to lie quiet and motionless as she tried to hold her breath. Her inner voice was screaming at her to scratch his eyes out and knee him in the balls, but she knew better. She had learned at a very young age that if she attempted to fight him, her punishment would only be worse in the end.
    “Open your eyes, you little whore, and answer me,” he barked , letting up only slightly to allow her to breath.
    Doing as she was told, she pried her lids open to face him as she inhaled a deep breath of air. The pitch black, murderous stare focused on her nearly made her retch with fear. This last year had been, by far, the worst for her. His punishments were becoming dangerously more severe with each passing day and his resentment and hatred toward her was at an all-time high. She knew if she didn’t get out now, she would never make it out alive.
    He had already tried once to kill her, but rather than taking her life, another trip to the hospital and one more lie about an accidental fall down the stairs revealed he had taken the life of her future unborn children instead. How many more visits to the hospital would it take until those people figured out what was going on in the home of the respected businessman Emilio Ibanez? How many more broken bones and bruises did she have to bear until they would stop looking the other way? What would it take for justice to be served? Tears filled her eyes because she knew the answer without speaking. Her death.
    When an errant, hot tear that was hovering on her lashes rolled down her cheek, a sinister grin spread across his merciless, wrinkled face. Moving suddenly, he shifted his position and his hand was now around her throat, squeezing the life out of her.
    “ When will you learn that your fucking tears mean nothing to me?” he hissed as he clamped around her throat tighter.
    She had come to that realization long ago, but the tears still came unbidden. Spots filled her vision and her self-preservation instincts kicked in. She no longer cared what he did to her if she fought him. Clawing at his hands, she thrashed her head and mewled, but the darkness that was hiding in the shadows moved in and an ice-cold sensation wrapped itself around her weakened body. Only then did Papa release her to deliver a slap across her face to bring her out of the impending blackout spell. The heat on her cheek brought her back to reality and she gasped for breath as she lay beneath him, staring up at him frightened and angry. He really was trying to kill her.
    “Tell me,” he gritted his teeth, but she shook her head.
    It was her hope that he was only calling her bluff about being up to something. He liked to play this twisted little game of will you confess to something you haven’t done in an attempt to make up some reason to beat her senseless. Just as she closed her eyes again, she heard the familiar sound of his belt being unbuckled and being pulled from the loops of his pants. Not this again … Her body was still hurting from the last time Papa’s leather had its way with her.
    Thinking quickly, she dared to speak. “Not tonight, Papa,” she squeaked out, her vocal chords sore from his assault. “Graduation is tomorrow. People will see the marks.”
    Curs ing under his breath, he stood, and just as quickly as he had appeared, he was gone. When she heard his heavy footsteps descend the stairs, she breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn’t often she was able to talk him down, but when she did, she felt a prevailing sense of accomplishment. With her body trembling uncontrollably, she hugged herself and hid her face in her pillow, soaking it with tears. As she let out a deep racking sob, she reminded herself that in less than twenty four hours, she would be free of him. Forever . No more cruel words. No more iron fists. No more Emilio Ibanez. As