The Billionaire’s Hidden Heiress
[Book 2] Chapter 30

Lorelai

POV

When I got discharged, there was no sign of Jackson anywhere. I took a cab home, and hailed up the stairs, feeling a little sorry for myself. I got inside and shut the door only to glance around the apartment in dismay. I had only been gone for one night and it was bombed. Evidently Jackson had taken it as a night to do whatever he wanted and the apartment was littered with beer bottles and pizza boxes. I wrinkled my nose, feeling my shoulder throbbing. I wasn't in the mood to clean, but given the state of the rooms, I didn't have much choice. I knew what his mood would be like if I didn't do it and it filled me with a sense of resignation and despair.

I cursed him silently inside my mind. As I gathered up the disgusting pizza boxes, something slid out from one of them, causing me to stiffen. It was small. A see-through baggie no bigger than the palm of my hand, but it had white powder in it that left me no doubts as to what it contained inside. I knelt and picked it up, feeling somewhat morose. Drugs. I knew Jackson did them but this looked like the hard stuff. The really hard stuff. I considered flushing it down the toilet but knew that this size was worth a small fortune. He'd be pissed if I got rid of it. I wrinkled my nose and gingerly put the baggie up in the kitchen cupboards, before continuing to clean.

I was just vacuuming the floor when the door to the apartment swung open and Jackson walked confidently inside.

"You're home," he said cheerfully as if nothing of importance had happened to me.

I gave him a sidelong glance. He seemed a little out of it, his eyes were glazed and dilated and his smile was wide. Was he still under the effects of whatever he'd been taking? I forced a smile on my face.

"I'm home. The hospital discharged me. Tomorrow I'm going to go back to work, so you won't have to worry about money" I said softly.

There that should soothe him and unruffle his feathers.

He glances at the tidy room and immediately begins to frown. "Where is it?" he blurts out.

I play dumb. "Where is what?"

He strides across the room, the happy mask sliding off his face and grabs my good arm, twisting it violently as I give a small cry of pain. "The drugs you b***h" he hisses, "I had a baggie, now where the f**k did you put it?"

"It's in the kitchen cupboard" I nod my head towards it and he immediately lets go, while I cradle my arm to my chest, rubbing it absent-mindedly "But do you think you should be having anymore?" I venture to say as he yanks the cupboard open and grabs the baggie "You're already under the influence."

Stupid Lorelai, stupid. Why do you have to provoke him like that? Best to just keep your mouth shut so he doesn't get angry at you, I scolded myself.

He sneers at me "You think I'm going to listen to you" he growls "Always so virtuous and innocent aren't you Lorelai."

His eyes are glittering. I know better than to argue back by now. I grit my teeth and bow my head as he grips the baggie tightly in his hand.

"This isn't for me" he informs me tightly "Does that make you feel better Lai?"

It doesn't. I feel sick. My stomach churns and I want to vomit. If the drugs aren't for him then that can only mean two things. One, either he purchased it intending to give to a friend or work colleague and is going to be collecting the money back from them or two, he's gone to selling drugs like a dealer.

"Are you selling?" the words burst out of me despite my intentions to hold them back.

Slap. I feel his hand connect with my face. He gets in my face, his own merely inches from my own. I can feel his rancid breath as he breathes on me. I fight back the urge to vomit on him.

"Is that any of your business Lorelai? Since when do I answer to you?" he asks deliberately.

My body is trembling. I press back against the kitchen counter. He narrows his eyes "What are you intending to do? Are you planning on telling the police?" his voice is sharp, angry.

I immediately go to shake my head. It would be my word against his and that's the only baggie I'd found. It would be suicide to go to the authorities. He doesn't relax. He grips me by the throat. I struggle to draw breath. "Listen here you little b***h. You're mine and you do as I say. What I do during the day is none of your f*****g business" he snarls "and you keep to yourself whatever goes on around here. Don't think I don't know who you are working for and those Grants owe you big time for what you did to them. I intend on collecting a reward from them sooner or later" he promised me in a menacing voice as I shook violently "Until then, keep working and keep your damn mouth shut" he roars and then flings me into the counter, causing me to cry out as my body hits it, pain shooting throughout.

I gasp and pant, clutching the counter for support. Jackson isn't finished. I'm sobbing now, wishing I had remained in the hospital.

"I have some business to take care of," he says icily, the glazed look in his eyes beginning to fade "and I won't be home until late tonight. I expect you to have this place clean and immaculate. Where are the painkillers the hospital sent you home with?" he asks. I hesitate. He narrows his eyes at me. I reluctantly withdraw them from my handbag. He snatches up the pills and examines them. "Strong ones" he mutters "they'll fetch a hefty price tag on the street."

I glare at him "Those are my painkillers, Jackson. I need them" I tell him annoyed.

He shakes his head "Take panadol for all I care, I'm taking these" he pockets them and I'm too cowed to object or too fearful of what he might do if I dare to protest. Because as I look at him, I realize I am afraid. This Jackson is different but not entirely new. He's been slowly becoming this unhinged and this violent over time and I've been ignoring all the signs, desperate to believe that everything was going to remain okay or maybe I was just blind because I already knew the signs of somebody that was addicted to drugs and didn't want to believe that I had gotten myself into a similar situation again. I had left home for a reason and it turned out, ironically, that I might as well have stayed. I could feel tears of frustration slipping down my cheeks.

He reaches out and catches one of them, a look of amusement on his face. "Don't be so upset Lorelai" he says gruffly "I love you" he adds cupping my cheek while I try not to recoil.

This isn't love, I think numbly to myself. Is it? I didn't know what love felt like, I had never truly experienced it, not even from my parents and they were supposed to love you unconditionally. But I imagined it wasn't meant to leave you feeling like this. Or leave you battered and bruised by your significant other.

His lips land on mine and they feel cold and rough. I stand there, feeling blank. He pulls away and gives me a grin of satisfaction. "You always taste so sweet," he tells me.

I can feel my body stiffen. He's oblivious to my feelings as usual. He runs a hand through his hair and makes an attempt to tidy the disheveled mess.

"Should I make dinner tonight?" my voice is even, despite my emotions.

He blinks and then shakes his head. "Not for me, I'll get takeout," he says decisively and it's all I can do not to crumple in relief. "But make sure you eat something, you look pale," he says to me while I try to fight back incredulous laughter. Did I? Jackson runs his hand over his shoulder. "I'm sorry if I hurt you" he mumbles apologetically "but sometimes you just speak out of turn or do the wrong thing. You have to work on that" he continues to rumble as I nod obediently.

It always came back to me, to what I had done wrong. I don't think I've ever heard him take responsibility for his actions and admit that it was his fault. Not ever. It was always because I had provoked him into losing his temper. I bow my head. "Sorry, Jackson." He nods and then glances around the room once more. I hope he doesn't have any more baggies hidden but he doesn't comment and instead exhales loudly.

"I'll be back later tonight" he advises.

He makes a beeline for the door. The baggie is carefully hidden away now. I force a frozen smile on my face and follow him to the door, carefully shutting it behind him and then locking it. I lean against the door and take deep breaths, feeling my whole inner self become emotionally wrought. I begin to sink down onto my knees and then onto my legs, collapsing against the door, my shoulder in so much pain that it's all I can do to stifle my cries of pain. I let loose the tears that I'd been holding back and felt them trickle down my cheeks and onto the floor. I sobbed loudly, uncaring that somebody on the other side of the door might be able to hear me.

When had my life gone this wrong? When had it all turned out so badly? I could still feel my cheek burning from the slap he gave me and touched it gently.

"I could take that million dollars and run away" I murmured threateningly, but then I shook my head in despair.

Even a million dollars wouldn't be enough to get away from Jackson. Not unless I got a new identity and I couldn't picture myself being able to leave my job or was it that I was growing closer to Knox and couldn't picture leaving him? I didn't know but as I glanced around the apartment, I sensed that something was going to have to change or I might just end up as another statistic from domestic violence. The only thing was, I had no idea what to do or where to turn.