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Chapter 18
No one knew how long it took before Lu Yao slowly regained consciousness. When her awareness returned, every inch of her body ached. Her lower body and her breasts hurt even more sharply. She tried to push herself up from the bed, but after several attempts, she couldn't manage it.
The loud, grating snoring beside her made her stomach turn. The room reeked of a fishy, foul musk. Lying there, she steadied herself, lifted her gaze, and in the faint moonlight saw Liu Zhijun sprawled naked next to her. Memory surged back in jagged flashes. She had been raped by that bastard.
Her breath hitched, and she trembled. Forcing strength into her limbs, she struggled upright. With shaking hands she cupped her breast, tucking it back into her bra, fumbling the buttons of her blouse closed. She groped for her jeans and underwear on the floor, not caring that the fabric was smeared with sticky, foul-smelling filth. She yanked them on, snatched her phone, and crept to the door. Inch by inch, she turned the handle and slipped out.
Outside the bedroom, she finally dared to breathe. She staggered through the yard and made it to her car. Hands shaking, she dug in her bag for her keys, shoved them into the ignition, and gunned the engine, speeding away from Liu Zhijun's house.
Only when she reached the main road did she look at her phone. It was past 4 a.m., nearing 5.
There were several missed calls some from home, some from her husband. The sight of her husband's name made her burst into tears. She slammed the brakes, pulled over, and collapsed over the steering wheel, sobbing uncontrollably.
"Bastard… bastard… bastard… bastard…" she choked out, pounding the wheel with her fists. She cursed herself for being careless, for falling for Liu Zhijun's trap, and she seethed with hatred for the man who violated her.
She had never imagined he would actually dare to rape her.
When she agreed to his terms, she had been cornered and desperate. She thought at worst he would grope her, take advantage disgusting, but survivable. They had agreed she would pretend to be his girlfriend, four visits. She had told herself if she was careful, nothing would happen.
Yet the first time she went to his home, he raped her.
Call the police… I have to call the police… I won't let him get away with this. He has to be punished.
After who knew how long crying over the wheel, she raised her head, clamping her teeth together. She started the car, opened navigation, and drove to the nearest police station.
She pulled up ten or so minutes later. But sitting there, staring at the station sign, she hesitated. It wasn't that she didn't want him punished; she wanted the police to drag him out of his bed right now.
But what about after reporting?
If her husband found out she had been raped would he reject her? She had been attacked in that man's house how could she explain it to her husband, to the police? Admit she had pretended to be his girlfriend?
And without evidence, would they believe her? Would her husband believe her?
Even if she had been forced into all of this, how could she explain? If she reported and nothing came of it, if it blew up and everyone found out, she couldn't live with the shame.
But… am I just supposed to swallow this?
She slammed a fist against the steering wheel, breath ragged. She forced herself to try to open the door failed tried again. Dawn drew its first pale line across the sky. She stared at it, then turned the key, pulled away from the station, and drove home.
Thankfully, her mother and son were still asleep when she got back. If her mother had seen her like this, she would have had no way to explain.
She slipped into her bedroom, eyes swollen red, stripped off the filthy clothes, and tossed them bra, underwear, everything into the trash.
That animal.
Naked, she went into the bathroom. The mirror reflected the red marks on her white breasts the left one bore a clear, vivid bite mark, the worst spots already scabbing where the skin had broken.
Her husband was always so tender, barely daring to squeeze her breasts. This man had bitten her, hard enough to break skin. She ground her teeth until her jaw hurt, hatred boiling so hot she could hardly see.
Worse than the throbbing in her chest was the heavy, swelling ache between her legs. On the drive home, every step from the car to the front door had hurt. She had to walk bowlegged to ease the pressure.
And the smell. That foul stench on her face and body. The details blurred by whatever he had given her to drink, but the stiff, crusting sensation on her skin told its own story.
She stepped under the hot spray and scrubbed furiously. Even after rinsing herself again and again, she felt she could never get clean.
Wuuu… wuuu…
She didn't know how long she stayed under the water before the pain inside broke loose. Bracing one hand on the wall, she slid down to the tiles and curled into herself, sobbing silently, teeth sunk into her hand to stifle the sound. Even in her own home, she didn't dare raise her voice.
Later, the sound of the front door stirred her her mother was awake. She scrubbed one last time, dried herself, pulled on pajamas, and crept back to bed. She pulled the covers over her head and stared into the dark.
Tears came again, quietly. When exhaustion finally dragged her under, she slept like a stone.
"Mom, after work last night some colleagues asked me to dinner. I forgot to charge my phone at school. After we ate, they wanted to sing karaoke, so I got home late." It was midday, and her son's voice pulled her up from sleep. She forced herself out of bed, washed her face, and went to the kitchen, where she offered the explanation to her mother.
"Try not to be out so late. You're a mother can't be out every night." Her mother sighed as she worked at the stove. "Binbin refused to sleep without you last night. He wanted you to hold him. Wore me out."
"Okay, mom, I got it. I won't be that late again," Lu Yao said, leaning in the doorway with a brittle smile. She steadied her aching body and walked as normally as she could to the balcony to call her husband. Using the same excuse, she returned the missed call, then went to the living room and sat with her son a while.
After lunch, she oversaw her son's reading and writing just kindergarten work, but she had already started teaching him early primary lessons.
Lu the Beauty, why did you sneak off without saying anything? When did you leave? You could have told me I'd have seen you out!
The WeChat notification popped up while she sat beside her son. The sender: Liu Zhijun.
Rage flushed her face. She clenched her teeth and squeezed her phone until her knuckles hurt, fighting the urge to hurl it across the room.
After a long, shaking silence, reason reasserted itself. In front of her son, she could not lose control. She took a long breath, loosened her grip, opened her contacts, and deleted and blocked his account. She hadn't gone to the police but she would not have any contact with that man again.
"Mom how do I do this one? I don't get it." Her son tugged her sleeve, and she pasted on a smile, patting his hair and explaining the problem step by step.
Ding-dong. Another WeChat request. A stranger. She tapped Accept.
Before she could return to the chat screen, another message arrived.
She opened it and her face went scarlet with fury.
It was a photo: herself, naked on the bed last night. The picture was taken from above, clearly from where he had stood. At the top of the frame, a thick shaft caught mid-spurt white fluid arcing. This wasn't the first jet; her flushed face and chest already bore mottled stains.
So that's why I still felt stiff and grimy when I got home… She had assumed it was sweat. It wasn't.
She gagged, bile clawing up her throat. She wanted to run back into the bathroom and scrub herself raw again. Then another thought struck icy fear through her. She didn't know if Liu Zhijun had used protection. She was in her fertile window. What if he hadn't what if she got pregnant?
She told her son to keep reading for a little while, ran downstairs to a pharmacy, and bought emergency contraception. Buying it for the first time left her burning with shame. But fear outstripped humiliation: if she became pregnant from this…
Ding-dong. Ding-dong. Ding-dong.
Several more messages while she walked back. No doubt all from him. She ducked into an empty corner and opened the chat more photos. All of her from last night.
She clenched her teeth so hard her jaw ached and typed back: Bastard, what do you want?
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