Kathryn Fox - Without Consent

“It’s going to be perfect,” he said. “What else is there to eat?”

“If you like, there’s chocolate in the cupboard.”

“Get it,” he snapped, and grabbed her hair again. She complied as slowly as she could.

With a piece of mint-chocolate in his mouth and another in his knife hand, he said, “It’s time to get what I came for.”

He was between her and the back door. She couldn’t run, his grip was too strong. If she could bite the hand holding the knife, he might drop it.

Before she could try, he pushed her into the lounge room and threw her face-up onto the lounge. As her back hit the cushion, he landed on top again, knees pinning her arms by her side. This time he let her breathe. With her legs curled up beneath her and the woollen skirt pulled tight, he couldn’t get his hand between her legs. For a second he looked like he’d cut it open, but pulled back.

His breathing became faster and more shallow. He lifted her jumper, exposing her bra. Taking his time, he bent down, pushed away the material and licked her breasts. She turned her head to the side and swallowed again, trying not to cry.

His mouth quickly made its way to hers. She didn’t struggle, despite gagging when his tongue mauled her mouth. She tried to ease her hand free to switch on the lamp.

Martin should be here by now. She needed to let him know she was home.

“I have to tell you something,” she said. “I’ve got an infection right now and I don’t want you to catch it.”

He stopped trying to force her legs apart. “No problem.” A condom came out of his trouser pocket. The zip went down again.

She arched her back, trying to sit up. “But you could still catch it. I’m a doctor, remember? A condom won’t protect you completely. It’s fungal and makes your skin itchy. It’s incredibly painful when the skin starts to peel.”

He squinted both eyes and grimaced. The thought of an infection near his penis must have bothered him.

“I’ll be better in a few days’ time. Why don’t you come back and we can do this properly? We could make it a magical night. I promise.”

He muttered something she couldn’t make out.

“The police have been watching you. They could be here any minute. You’ve got to go before they find you.”

The man sat up, still pressing on her with all his weight. His eyes flicked around the room.

Jesus. He might go, she thought. With a little more pushing, Anya really believed she could get away. She took a deep breath. “I’ll get you some food to take with you, and see you back here next Saturday, when it’s dark, so no one sees you.”

He smirked again. “You’re a stupid fucking liar.”

A chair scraped the floor in the kitchen and Anya felt relief flood through her. Martin!

The man held the knife against her throat again and froze.

“This is going to stop now,” said a woman’s voice. “Right here, right now!”

For the first time, Anya saw fear in the man’s eyes.

Martin pulled up in front of Anya’sneighbor’s house. The old woman would no doubt complain, but she whinged about everything.

“You ready?” he asked.

“Dad, why is Mum’s house all dark?”

Martin checked his watch. “She’s probably held up somewhere. Just like usual.”

Ben didn’t respond and continued to play his hand-held computer game.

“I’ll check anyway.” He got out of the car and knocked on the front door, studying the small jade plant in a pot near the path while he waited. It was a plant they were given when they got married. For luck, supposedly. It had always been healthier when Anya looked after it.

No answer.

He climbed back in the car and undid the window. “Guess we wait a few minutes. Her car’s there.” He pointed to a blue Toyota Corolla, two cars ahead.

“Maybe she’s gone to get bread.” Ben zapped another couple of aliens.

“Either that or she took a taxi this morning. She does that when she goes into the city to save on parking. We’ll give her a few more minutes,” he said, flicking on the radio.

The man stared over Anya’s shoulder at the intruder.

No one moved as they heard the knock on the door. The man shoved his hand over Anya’s mouth, muffling her attempts to call out and restricting her vision. There was no second knock.

Anya’s eyes welled. Why hadn’t the woman reacted, she wondered.

“Get off her.” The strange woman’s voice sounded familiar. “Now!”

Without taking his eyes off the woman, he complied and slowly rose to his feet.

Anya sat up and moved backward to get away from him.

“Stay there!” He leaned toward her with the knife. “I’m not finished with you.”

In the shadows, Anya could make out the woman’s shape and the glint of metal reflecting from the TV. It didn’t make any sense.

“How did you get in?” He sounded nervous.

Anya braced herself to run.

“Luke, I know you. You always leave the back door open.”

Anya realized that Desiree Platt was in the house with a knife in her hand.

None of this made sense. Why had Desiree come to help her? Did she know her husband was a rapist?

Luke inched his way along the side of the coffee table. “Des, what are you doing?”

“I can’t believe you’d do this to me,” she blurted. “I trusted you.”

“Calm down, Des. It’s not what you think.” He held one arm out like a peace offering. “How’d you know I was here? Did anyone follow you?”

“No one knows I’m here.”

Anya’s heart hammered. How could a heavily pregnant woman overpower Luke? Her breathing quickened and her fingers began to tingle.

Desiree sounded angry. “I saw the way you listened to Nick talk about her. That’s how I knew you’d come.”

Luke leaned forward. “I’m sorry. I’ll get help this time, go to counselling, whatever it takes. It won’t happen again.”

“You promised! No more women,” Desiree cried.

He kept advancing slowly. “Don’t do anything silly. If you just put down the knife.”

“Not yet…” Her voice trailed off.

She was no physical match for Luke. Once on the ground, she wouldn’t stand a chance. If Anya moved, he could get to her in a lunge. But Desiree was standing even closer.

Anya had to distract him, so Desiree could get help.

She leapt over the arm of the lounge, shouting, “He’s got a knife. Desiree, run, get help!”

As her elbows hit the wooden floorboards, Platt had her hair in his grip again. Pain shot through her arms and knees.

“You stupid fucking bitch!” he said, and thumped the back of her head with something like a rock.

It felt like her head exploded. Dazed, she scrambled to pull free, disorientated by the blinding sensation.

He dragged her back onto the lounge and she felt the metal dig into her cheek again. “Don’t move a fucking muscle.”

Head throbbing, she hoped Desiree had got away. She could cope with almost anything if she knew help was coming quickly.

Clutching her head, she looked across. Her chest tightened. Desiree stood where she had been, frozen.

“The father of my child is a good man,” she said calmly. “You won’t take him away from me.”

Anya didn’t understand. She couldn’t process what was going on.

“You’re right, Des.” With one hand, Luke slid the coffee table to his left, clearing the path to Desiree. With his right hand, he kept the knife pointed in Anya’s direction.

“What about Elizabeth Dorman?” Anya put pressure on her throbbing scalp.

“Don’t you get it?” Luke’s voice strained as he shook the knife. “It was Willard. He did it, just like he killed Eileen Randall.”