Beneath This Man (This Man Trilogy)(92)

‘Ava?’ Jesse’s voice stills me. It’s weak and broken as his head turns in my direction.

A desperate cry escapes my mouth as our eyes meet and all I find are empty glazed holes. He doesn’t look completely with it. He looks drugged and hollow. He makes to stand but staggers forward slightly in complete disorientation. My eyes fall onto his back, finding at least ten angry welts spread from one side of his back to the other, overlapping and seeping with beads of blood.

I feel sick. My stomach starts to heave and as Sarah raises the whip again, I hear John in the distance bellowing her name. My knees give out and I crumble to the floor at John’s feet.

‘Ava?’ Jesse makes it to a standing position, but he is nowhere near stable. He shakes his head as if trying to regain his focus, his confused face becoming stricken as he registers my presence. ‘Jesus, no!’ Fear floods his handsome features. Even his voice is unstable. He goes to walk forward, but he’s stopped by Sarah, who’s grabbing at his arm. ‘Get the fuck off me!’ he roars, knocking her backwards. ‘Ava, baby. What are you doing here?’ He rushes forward and drops to his knees in front of me, grabbing at my face and searching for my eyes.

He’s a complete blur through my tears. I can’t speak. I’m just shaking my head frantically, trying to rid my brain of what I have just witnessed. Is this a nightmare? He wasn’t fighting her off at all. He knelt there waiting for the blows in a total trance. I throw my arms out to bat him away from me and scramble to my feet.

‘Ava, please!’ he pleads, as I push his grabbing hands from me. I need to get out of here.

I turn, knocking John out of the way, and run in blind shock down the corridor, emerging into the massive summer room. As I hurry through, I’m vaguely aware of shocked gasps, and I turn to see Jesse and John in pursuit of me. I slap my hand over my mouth as I feel the bile rising in my throat. Oh God, I’m going to throw up.

I hurtle through the toilet door and into a cubicle, slamming the door behind me. I just make it over the bowl and then proceed to evacuate the contents of my stomach on loud, painful retches, my face wet with sweat and tears. I’m in the lowest level of hell and once again, trapped in a fucking cubicle with nowhere to go.

The sound of the toilet door crashing into the tiled wall rings out around the ladies’ washroom. ‘Ava!’ He bangs on the door behind me, and I sink to my bum as I feel another round of violent heaves coming on. ‘Ava! Open the door!’

I can’t answer him through my persistent retching, even if I wanted to. What the hell am I supposed to say? I’ve just watched him accept a thrashing from a woman I despise – a woman who I know wants Jesse and hates me. My imagination doesn’t stretch to this kind of callousness. I throw up again and fumble for some toilet paper to wipe my mouth as the door continues to bang behind me.

‘Please,’ he begs, and a dull thud meets the door. I know it’s his forehead. ‘Ava, please, open the door.’

My tears gather force again at the sound of him begging. I can’t possibly look into the eyes of the man I love knowing he has done this to himself.

‘Who let her in?’ His tone has turned fierce, and he punches the door. ‘Fuck! Who the fucking hell let her in?’

‘Jesse, I didn’t let her in. I would never have let her in.’ John’s low hum is soothing. I want to jump to his defense. He didn’t let me in. John’s fretful voice, his attempts to stop me from entering Jesse’s office, it all brings me to one conclusion. He didn’t text me. He didn’t open the gates. She’s done it again. My strong, dominate man having himself beaten? I’ve underestimated her hatred of me. I’ve trodden on some really fancy, red polished toes. She has more than succeeded in her attempts to shock me, but all of this doesn’t detract from the fact that Jesse was actively, willingly, partaking in the appalling activity. Why?

‘What’s going on?’ The familiar sound of Kate’s voice gives me hope of escaping this horror scene. ‘Fuck! Jesse, what the hell has happened to your back?’

‘Nothing!’ he snaps.

‘Don’t fucking talk to me like that. Where’s Ava? What the hell is going on? Ava?’ She calls my name, and I’m desperate to answer her, but I know if I open the door, Jesse will be in. I can’t see him.

‘She’s in there. She won’t come out. Ava?’ he calls. ‘Please, Kate, get her out.’ He bangs the door again. He sounds desperate and frantic.

‘Hey! Tell me why she is locked in there and why you’re out here bleeding all over the place?’ Kate’s voice is fierce.

‘Ava walked in on something she shouldn’t have seen. She’s freaked out. I need to see her.’ His talking is strained through his heavy breathing.

I want to scream exactly why I’ve freaked out, but I’m attacked by another succession of retches, rendering me incapable of uttering any words.

‘If you’ve fucked her over, Jesse!’ Kate shouts. ‘Ava?’

He’s fucked me over all right, but not in the way she is thinking. It’s almost worse. It is worse.

‘No!’ Jesse’s voice is full of defense. ‘It’s not like that!’

‘Well, what is it like then? She’s in there throwing up. Ava?’ The subtle knock of Kate’s fist starts drumming on the door. ‘Ava, come on. Open the door.’

‘Ava!’ Jesse shouts frantically.

‘Jesse, just go.’ Kate yells.

‘No!’

‘She’s obviously not going to come out with you here. Hey, big guy. Get him out of here.’

‘Jesse?’ John rumbles, and I pray that Jesse listens to him and leaves. I’m not going anywhere with him out there. ‘Let’s get you sorted out, you stupid mother fucker.’

I sit with my head in my hands while I listen to the back and forth coaxing of Jesse from the bathroom.

I eventually hear the door open and close again and then Kate’s subtle knocking on the door. ‘Ava, he’s gone.’ Kate assures me through the door. I lift up and slide the lock across to let my friend into the toilet with me. She pushes through the small gap and screws her nose up at the sight of the vomit spattered bowl. ‘What the hell is going on?’ She crouches on the other side of the cubicle so we’re knee to knee.

I sniffle and blow my nose on some tissue. My mouth tastes dreadful. I take a few controlled breaths through my sobs and try to steady my vocal cords. ‘He had himself whipped.’ I manage. The sound of them words has my chucking my head back over the bowl, but all I’m achieving is choking myself on dry heaves. I feel Kate’s palm rubbing at my back.

‘He what?’

I push myself away from the toilet and find Kate’s jaw dropped disbelievingly. Who would believe it? But she saw the evidence plain and clear and plastered all over Jesse’s back. ‘I walked in on him being whipped by Sarah.’

Her eyes widen. ‘Sarah the mega bitch?’ she splutters.

‘Yes.’ I nod in case the word didn’t make it out of my mouth. ‘He was on his knees, Kate, like some sort of submissive slave.’ My tears start again and my mind is invaded with the horrible memory of my strong, self-assured man being willingly beaten. Why would he do that?

‘Oh, fuck.’ She rests her hand on my knee. ‘Ava, his back is a mess.’

‘I know!’ I cry. ‘I saw it!’ That was no kinky kicks. There no pleasure element in it. Not on Jesse’s part, anyway. Sarah could be a different story, though. Jesse wanted to be hurt. My stomach convulses. ‘Kate, I need to leave. He won’t let me. I know he won’t let me go.’

A look of determination invades her pretty, pale features and she rises to her feet. ‘Wait here.’

‘Where are you going?’ My voice sounds panicky. He’ll barrel back in here as soon as Kate exits. I know he will.

‘John’s taken Jesse to his office. I’m just going to check, though.’ She opens the door and shuffles past my slumped body.

I hold my breath, waiting for a commotion, but it doesn’t come. The door opens and closes, and then there is silence. I’m alone. I stand myself up, my legs weak and shaky, and pull some toilet roll off to wipe around the seat. I hold my hand over my mouth as I generally clean up my mess, all the time more violent heaves threatening.

The toilet door opens. I freeze, holding my breath.

‘Ava?’ Kate whispers, tapping the door gently. ‘Jesse’s in his office with John. Sam will get the gates.’

I open the door and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror before I’m pulled out of the toilet cubicle and yanked towards the door. I look God awful. ‘Wait, I need some water.’ I shake Kate off and take myself to the sink, leaning over to splash my face and swill my mouth.

‘Here, have some gum.’ Kate shoves a stick in my mouth.

I’m now weighing up the merits of alcohol. Would I have preferred to find him drunk? Yes, without a doubt, I would have faced that merciful creature rather than witness him being beaten. He really is self-destructive. Grief turns into anger as I consider his reactions to a few bruises on my backside when I took a trip in Margo senior, and his face when he clocked my bruised arm after my run-in with Mr Baldy Jag – how over-the-top he was.