Chapter 5 Escape

(Sybil’s POV)

The driver and I were chatting away when all of a sudden, he went silent and stared at the rearview mirror. “Miss,” he said, “I think we’re being followed. Is it someone you know?”

I turned around to take a look, and immediately recognized John’s car. “I’m afraid so.”

“Would you like me to stop the car?” He gave me a look of concern.

“Yes, please.” As soon as he stopped the car, I got out. I turned back to him. “Would you mind waiting? This will just take a minute.”

“No problem, miss.” The driver nodded.

I marched angrily over to John’s car. “What do you want now? Aren’t you needed at the hospital?”

“Get in.” John gave me an icy stare, his knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel so tightly.

Against my better judgment, I got into his car, but not before making eye contact with the taxi driver. The driver seemed to understand that I would not need a ride after all, and drove away.

John turned toward me once I was seated beside him. “You’re not wearing the earrings I gave you,” he observed. “What happened to them?”

I touched my ears, pretending to have just noticed that the earrings were gone. “Oh, no, they must have fallen out somewhere!”

He gave me a look that plainly said he didn’t believe me, but he didn’t say anything.

“I don’t know where they are,” I said, “but don’t worry, I’ll reimburse you in the divorce.” I resisted the urge to smile. I knew exactly where the earrings were. They were now in the possession of the taxi driver who had just driven away.

John remained silent the entire way home. Not that I minded, though. I had nothing to say to him.

As soon as we walked in the door, I ran upstairs to our bedroom and got out a suitcase.

John followed me into the room and stared at me. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“What does it look like?” I flitted around the room grabbing as many of my possessions as I could and putting them in the suitcase. “I’m leaving you.”

“Well, you can’t leave.” He looked pleased with himself as he pointed this out. “We have an arrangement, remember? You’re mine for two more years.”

“I’m sure the contract can be terminated, ” I said as I continued packing. “I’ll get myself a lawyer.”

“I know what this is about.” John shoved a pile of my clothes off the bed. “It’s about having a kid.”

“That’s not it at all!” I protested.

He grabbed me and pinned me down on the bed. I ended up lying down on my back, with him on top of me. I tried to break free, but to no avail. “Fine, let’s have a kid, if it’ll shut you up!” He started unbuttoning my blouse.

The more I resisted, the more determined he became. He stopped suddenly, and looked at me thoughtfully.

“Sybil,” he murmured, “I just want this to work, can’t you see that?” I could see right through him. It was obvious that he was trying to get me to do what he wanted by faking affection. Well, it wouldn’t work!

I recoiled in horror as he leaned over and tried to kiss me. I turned my head just in time, and he ended up getting my hair in his mouth. That didn’t ruin his mood, however.

“It’ll be great,” he sighed, a dreamy look in his eyes. “Imagine. A son to carry on the Rutherford name!” 

“No!” I gathered enough strength to shove him off of me. Why was he so interested in having a child right now? His sister was sick. Shouldn’t that take top priority? 

Suddenly it dawned on me. His mother must have convinced him to do this. Maybe the whole thing about carrying on the family name had been her argument to make him see her side of things.

“Jonathan Rutherford, Jr.,” he whispered, climbing back on top of me. “He’ll go to only the best schools, then take over the family business.” He continued yammering about all of his plans for our nonexistent son as he started nuzzling my neck, making me sick to my stomach.

“Don’t touch me!” I screamed, unable to take anymore of this.

He got off of me, wide-eyed with shock. I couldn’t blame him. This was the first time that I had raised my voice that much at him. I’d gotten angry with him from time to time in the years that we’d known each other, but I’d never really yelled at him until now.

He was too stunned to move, so I took the opportunity to finish packing.

On my way down the stairs, I heard him call my name. I turned around  to see him standing there, half-undressed. “I’ll overlook your little tantrum,” he said, smiling suggestively, “if you come back upstairs, take your clothes off and we finish what we started.”