AN: I thought that I knew where this was going, now I am not so sure. Thanks to all who reviewed the first chapter, it was quite encouraging. If you detest violence, then don't read the rest of this story. It is going to get violent from here on in.
Disclaimer: Mark is the creation of the darkest recesses of my imagination. Well, perhaps not the darkest, but a shadowy corner near the back. Sarah and Jareth belong to JHP.
Chapter 2
When The Darkness Surrounds You
My key slid sharply in the lock, and I heard the sound of the bolt echo within the house. A light-hearted welcome and an apology were on my lips when I stepped into the entryway, but they too bounced off the walls. I turned lights on as I made my way through the house, saying a silent prayer with every room that was filled with the warm glow. I reached the living room and stopped, unsure as to whether I should approach or run away from the figure on the couch.
"Hello, Sarah."
Mark's tone of voice sent an icy chill down my back. I reached for the light switch, and before I knew it, Mark was off the couch and clamping his hand around my wrist. He wrenched it away from the wall, pulling it back in front of me.
"Don't. I like it dark. It helps me think better." I could see his eyes, glittering with the silent rage that was inside of his head.
"What are you thinking about?" I kept my tone carefully guarded, not wanting to display the panic that was already rushing through me. I ducked past him and took off my jacket, and set it and my briefcase on the couch.
"I was trying to figure out why your dumb-ass secretary wouldn't let me talk to you when I called earlier. She said you were under a mountain of paperwork and your office door was shut." He moved so that he was right behind me. I could feel the breath coming from his mouth on the back of my head. " You never close your office door, Sarah. Which brings me to a question. What, or should I say who, exactly were you under?"
I took a few steps forward and turned around to face him, almost wishing that I hadn't, "I told you I had to finish that deal tonight to have it for presentation on Monday. I closed my office door because the staff had a goodbye party for one of the girls and I needed a little quiet. Please, lets not fight tonight." I headed for the kitchen before he grabbed my shoulder and spun me around to face him again.
"Why wouldn't your secretary let me talk to you? You've never ignored me before. Who were you with?" Our faces were inches apart.
"No one! I have a temp while Rebecca is on vacation. I told her to take messages for me and I forgot to tell her to let me talk to you." I began to back up, ever so slowly.
"Bullshit! Don't lie to me Sarah!" He followed me.
"I'm not...I wouldn't lie. I'm telling the truth."
"I see the way you act when you are at work, trying to attract attention from all of the men. There isn't one of them that doesn't turn their head when you walk by. Maybe they wouldn't if your skirts weren't so goddamn short."
"But you bought this one for me! I wear it because it thought you liked it."
This seemed to enrage Mark, as he grabbed me by both shoulders and began to shake me. I could hear the shoulder seams of my blouse begin to tear under the strain of his grasp.
"Do I look like I like it to you? What kind of idiot do you think I am? Huh? Answer me, damn it!"
"I..I...don't..." My willpower in keeping the tear back was starting to slip, and I could feel my eyes fill up.
"Answer me, Bitch!"
I opened my mouth but nothing came out. I knew there wasn't anything I could say that would prevent him from hitting me. I had tried every possible way to get him to stop in previous fights, but nothing had worked. I shut my mouth and accepted what he was going to do.
"Who the fuck do you think you are, keeping all silent like that? The fucking queen of Sheba?" I tried to keep my balance as he continued to shake me. The seams of my skirt were beginning to give way under my attempts to keep my legs under me.
"Please Mark, I just..."
"No! I am not going to listen to your pitiful excuses anymore. If you're not interested in what I have to say when I call, then you'd better be willing to pay the price."
"But I had no choice.."
"Shut up, you stupid bitch!"
I hadn't seen him raise his hand before he hit me. His muscled hand swept across my face once, twice, forcing my head to jerk back and to the side. I heard a loud popping noise, and prayed to God that he hadn't broken my neck. Then he would leave me, or kill me because he couldn't handle the stress of having to take care of me. I stumbled back across the floor, dragging Mark with me before finally coming to a stop when my back hit the wall.
Mark let go of my arm and I slowly slid down the wall, eyes shut. I couldn't look at him, couldn't meet his gaze. I knew that me pitiful eyes would just make him angrier and he would hit me again. I heard the front door close and Mark's car being driven away after several minutes. I dared to open one eye and peer about my quiet house as if I was afraid that he was going to jump out from any crevice. Once I realized that I was alone, I looked down at myself. My blouse was torn at both sleeves and my skirt had all but been destroyed. Not that it was anything unusual. In a few days, he would show up with a new outfit, roses and champagne, like he had before. What caught my eye was the drops of bright red against my cream colored blouse. Never before had he drawn blood when he hit me.
I began to sob as I got to my feet. I stumble to the kitchen and clumsily tore off some paper towels to clean my face. I ran them under the water at the sink, not caring how much I spilled on the counter or on my clothes. Blindly, I mopped at the blood on my face as sobs racked through my body. Clutching the paper towels to my face, I sat on the cold tile floor, trying to regain my composure enough to make it upstairs. Not even thinking, I cried out to the only one who could possibly hear me.
"Oh, Jareth. I wish you were here."
I felt myself being lifted off of the floor and held tightly to a man's chest. Jareth's chest. I couldn't look into his eyes, so I stared at the amulet he wore around his neck. Wordlessly, he carried me through the house and up the stairs to my room. He laid me on the bed and with a flick of his wrist changed me out of my ruined suit into my pajamas. I finally got the courage to look into his eyes. Time nor age had changed him in the slightest. He still had the ability to take my breath away even when I had not thought of him in years. He didn't look into my eyes, as he seemed more occupied with the task of getting me comfortable.
"This won't hurt." He said as he slid his hand over my face, taking away all of the pain and redness, as well as the swelling that had already begun to misshape my features.
"Jareth, I.."
"Shhh. No need to talk now. Just sleep, Sarah, and dream of pleasant things."