Saved by the Devil (Devils Arms Book 3)

pour the noodles into a bowl and bring it to the table. I made that sauce you liked so well last we—” she didn’t finish because he slapped her. The crack of his palm slamming into her cheek was loud in the silent apartment. Pain lanced across her jaw and her teeth rattled as her head was knocked to the side. Phoebe took a step back and cupped her face. She trembled, tasting blood as he hands grabbed her shoulders and his hard fingers dug into her flesh painfully. Johnny slammed her into the wall and got right in her face.
“You should have my fucking dinner done and already on the table, lazy cunt. What the fuck do you do all day?” Johnny yelled in her face. A bit of spittle landed on her cheek and she tried to pull away from him. Phoebe knew this would enrage him more, but it was instinct to turn away and she couldn’t stop her reaction despite her desperate need to make him happy so he’d leave her alone. Johnny grabbed her chin twisting her head back towards him. Her neck burned and she could feel the hard grip he had on her chin.
“Stop trying to turn away, bitch,” Johnny demanded, his eyes wild. “You know you deserve this shit.” Phoebe wanted to shout at him that she didn’t deserve it. She wanted to tell him that no one deserved to be treated this way, but she didn’t. She just closed her eyes briefly and prayed he wouldn’t hurt her too badly this time. He turned her to face him, holding her chin so tight it throbbed and she knew she’d have more bruises to hide tomorrow.
“Please, I’m sorry. I’ll do bett—” Phoebe begged softly, her words distorted by the tight hold he had on her chin. Tears stung her eyes as she fought her instinct to fight back. She knew that things always got worse if she fought back. After nearly a year of his abuse she knew what set him off most of the time, but it was still hard to push her natural instincts back into their box. If she hadn’t let him twist her life into this fucked up version of a marriage she’d have been long gone. He’d cut her off from her friends and her only family had died six months ago.
“Shut the fuck up! I can’t believe you’re such a fucking useless bitch. I bet you were out shaking your ass for some other man, weren’t you? That’s what you do when I’m gone, isn’t it? You fucking shake your pretty ass at other men because you’re a fucking whore. A useless fucking whore,” Johnny shouted at her as he pushed her head into the wall harder. He grabbed her neck and choked her. She clawed at his hand, trying to get him to let her go. After a moment he shoved her hard into the wall before grabbing her face again.
Phoebe couldn’t help the sob that escaped her as her hands rose to pull at his hand, trying to get him to let her go. She wanted to kick him or at the very least fight, but she’d learned months ago that it wasn’t a good idea. The last time she’d tried to fight back she’d ended up in the hospital for a week with three broken ribs.
“No, no, I would never do that, p-please,” she whimpered. Her words were distorted and likely undecipherable. Not that Johnny would have listened in the mood he was in anyway. Begging was something she’d become really good at in the last few months since her hospital stay, not that it ever helped.
“Stupid fucking whore,” Johnny snarled as he slapped her again, his hand hitting her so hard that she felt her ears ring.
Her mind became unfocused and disjointed. Phoebe tried to breathe through the pain as he shoved her down onto her knees. She felt the jolt of them hitting the floor echo through her whole body. Her teeth clashed together, and her jaw ached from where he’d squeezed it. His hands were tightly clenched around her upper arms and he shook her like a rag doll. He screamed in her face calling her a whore and a cunt, following each word with another hit. Every strike sent more pain radiating through her as she begged him to stop. Her words only made him laugh as he told her what a stupid bitch she was. By the time he stopped slapping her she could taste blood in her mouth and her face felt swollen. Her cheeks throbbed and the cut above her eye was bleeding profusely.
He shoved her shoulders roughly and she fell back, hitting her head hard on the wall as she tried to protect her face. Phoebe knew what was coming so she curled into a ball and tried to make herself the smallest target she could manage. With her legs drawn up to her chest she felt Johnny kick her legs. Thankfully he didn’t put much force behind the kick or she might have ended up in the hospital again.
“I’m going to have to go get something in town because you didn’t make me dinner, bitch,” he said, following those words with another kick to her leg.
Phoebe whimpered and curled into a tighter ball, her sobs shaking her body as she tried hard to fight her urge to jump up and hit him. Most people would call her weak or stupid for taking Johnny’s abuse and they weren’t wrong, but they also didn’t understand. Abuse broke you down. It started small and seemed to snowball from there. This certainly wasn’t how she’d envisioned her life.
Ending up in the hospital was one of the best things that could have happened to her. If she hadn’t talked to one of the nurses in the ER, then she might not have a plan to get away