FOUR | ON YOUR KNEES

CHAPTER FOUR | ON YOUR KNEES

AMANDA

“Beg," Marcus smirks.

Beg! Did the bastard just ask me to fucking beg? I hope I heard him wrong cause I won't hesitate to rip his tongue off if he is being serious.

I act like I don't hear him. “Excuse me?"

“I said you should fucking beg, get on your knees and beg me to take you in. Kiss my feet too." He commands.

I look back, hoping there's someone else he is talking to. He can't be talking to me. “Who the fuck are you talking to?"

His dumb friends seems to find something funny because they all crack up to the extent that they can barely breath.

“Is there a clown at my back?" I ask them.

Marcus moves the blonde stripper off him and comes to stand in front. He stands so close that we start breathing the same air. “You, Amanda. You are funny. Now, I want you to get on those bratty knees of yours and beg me to give you a place to stay tonight."

Tears well up in my eyes before I can stop myself. I'm not crying because I feel like I'm too big to beg or because I'm humiliated. I'm crying because I am angry.

I am very fucking angry and I don't want to commit murder.

I can't help the fact that I cry anytime I am extremely angry.

Before I can stop myself, I grip his jaw and squeeze it as hard as my hand would let me. Surprisingly, my grip is tight and my nails scratch him.

He groans in pain but refuses to back down. “You have nowhere to go, Amanda. No one wants you. Why don't you drop your pride and just beg me and I promise you'll be treated nicely by me and my guys."

This is ridiculous. “After everything I did for you Marcus. After everything I sacrificed for the sake of the love I have for you, this is what you pay me back with. Don't you have a fucking conscience? I know you don't have any feelings for me but what about a heart, Do you lack that too? I paid for this fucking place. The cloth you are wearing was bought by me. You were nobody when we met. You had no job, no reasonable property, no nothing. The only thing you had was your goodlook and athletic body. I made you what you are today, Marcus. Without me, we both know you won't have a roof over your head. And what do I get from you in return?"

I don't notice my grip on his jaw has tightened to the extent that it's bleeding. I also don't notice that Marcus has been screaming in pain and trying to get me off him.

I see red as I answer my question myself. “All I get for the two years of charity I did for you is humiliation, pain, rejection, and hatred. The only crime I committed is loving you with all my heart. The only crime I committed is wanting to give up everything I have known and believed in to be with you. As if you haven't taken enough from me, you want me to fall to my knees and beg you. You want me to waste the last drop of dignity I have on a heartless asshole like you. Well, I'm sorry to burst your bubble princess, but I'd rather sleep on the street than do that."

I push him off and storm out of the apartment before I actually burn it down. As much as I am tempted to hurt Marcus and burn the house down, I can't because a stupid part of me still cares about the bastard.

Standing alone in the cold night air, I wonder what I will do now that I have nowhere to go. Would I really have to sleep on the street?

I really wish my phone isn't dead, I would have tried calling a relative or friend for help. Most of my other family members don't live in this town and I can't just show up at my friends house unannounced. Especially since I cut all of them off because of Marcus.

“Could this day get any worse? Seriously, what else can you do, Universe? Don't tell me this is your fucking best, do more please." I yell to the sky.

I look and sound crazy right now. I'm still in my wedding dress with messed up makeup. Anyone who sees me right now would think I am a ghost bride.

I decide to walk a little and maybe figure something out on the way. That is when I notice a black van I should have noticed earlier.

As a girl who grew up under the spotlight, the first thought that comes to my mind is the fact that the fan belongs to the press.

Great! Just great! By dawn, there would be another picture of me with the headline that I have run mad.

I am tempted to just walk over to the van and ask them to fuck off but I decide against it. The press and their made-up story shouldn't be my problem, I need to find a place to spend the night.

I begin to look around, hoping there's a motel I can spend the night at. I have some money left from the loan I took for my failed wedding.

I'll come up with a solution to my problems tomorrow, right now I need to get out of this uncomfortable dress.

I notice that the van is trailing me closely but ignore it.

Just when I see a motel, the van starts speeding up till it is directly beside me.

“Leave me the fuck alone." I yell at who I thought was a desperate journalist trying to make a name with my failed life.

I was only bluffing when I asked if this is the best the universe can do to hurt me but it was taken personally because two hefty men jumps out of the van.