Free Seeking Prince Charming by Terry Towers Page A

He’d hit me so hard a couple of times recently that I’d been out cold for over a half an hour. But that was me, a hundred and twenty pound, 5’6 female after being struck by a large, muscular man. Not wanting to take any chances I rushed to the closet and pulled out the “pleasure trunk” as Alexander liked to refer to it as, filled to the brim with various BDSM toys. His pleasure, but certainly not mine and I had the scars – quite literally – to prove it. With Alexander there were no “safe words,” the games ended when he was ready to end them or I passed out and not a moment sooner. 
    Opening the trunk with trembling hands I found a couple of pairs of handcuffs and rushed back to him. With great effort I managed to pull his body close enough to the cast iron radiator that I was able to cuff him to it. He was a strong man, but there was no way he was breaking free from that radiator. The only way he was getting free was when the housekeeper came in in the morning and found him there.
    I didn’t even want to consider the rage he’d be feeling when he was freed. But that would be fine, Ura and I would be long gone. If we stayed he’d kill us both, I was as certain of that as I was of taking my next breath.
    Alexander Vetrov was never betrayed or humiliated by anyone without consequences and he sure as hell wouldn’t be by the person he considered his whore of a trophy wife, a wife he’d bought and brought to America for less than the price of a new Kia sedan.
    Once Alexander was secure I grabbed a large suitcase and entered our massive walk-in closet. The closet was as big as the one-room apartment Ura and I had shared back in Ukraine before Alexander stepped into our lives. It was filled with hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of luxury designer clothes, everything from Hermes to Chanel and Gucci.
    Growing up poor I didn’t need nor ask for those things, but Alexander insisted on it. Not only did he have to have the most beautiful of trophy wives he could buy, but she had to be the best dressed in the most expensive of designers. He claimed he was buying me these things to make me happy, but I knew the truth. The only person Alexander cared about was himself and his image of wealth and perfection – the perfect over-the-top mansion, the perfect car, the perfect wife, the perfect family. The beauty and perfection helped to hide the darkness within him from the world.
    Opening the case on the floor I began pulling clothes from the neatly stacked piles and from the hangers. Without even bothering to look at what I was grabbing I tossed several pairs of shoes on top of the clothing and zipped it closed. With the suitcase full I grabbed a duffle bag and began tossing some of my jewelry, makeup and toiletries inside. When it was almost full I rushed from the bedroom with the duffle bag on my shoulder and pulling the heavy suitcase behind me, and I made my way into Alexander’s den.
    Pulling the painting from the back wall, I uncovered his den safe. I’d noticed the code he’d pressed into the safe one day a few months back and made a mental note of it – just in case. In the back of my mind, for well over a year now, I knew this day would come. Quickly I pressed in the code and with a soft beep the safe acknowledged it and the door swung open. I’d hoped to see my and Ura’s passports and identification inside, but neither were. Bastard. However, there were a couple of bundles of cash, marked five thousand on each and numerous bundles wrapped in brown paper the size of bricks – cocaine. I took the cash and left the cocaine.
    Ten thousand would last us a while, but with no identification and no way to get a legitimate job without Alexander tracking us down it wouldn’t last forever. I paused; was this the right choice? I was putting myself and Ura on the run, possibly for the rest of our lives. A lifetime of looking over our shoulders was a very long time. Going to the police was pointless, he