Road Rage

"Maggie Jo Stark, such an Okie name for such an Okie girl." The words were drawled in a taunting manner and continued with more hurtful verbal bullying.
Maggie saw that Beau and his friends had been drinking and tried to excuse herself and slip quietly away. Too late! Beau reached out and grabbed her wrist with his iron grip.
"Come'ere Honey, you don't want to insult my guests, do you?"
He was hurting her but she wasn't going to flinch. She smiled and greeted each man by name. Now maybe he'd let her go since he'd embarrassed and bruised her. But something else was going on, more than just a drinking party; the guys were playing poker, too. She began to have a very bad feeling about this.
As she'd feared, Beau insisted she stay, have a drink and watch him win at cards. But he didn't win and that's when the real trouble started. He'd lost and lost. One of his buddies, drunker than a skunk, joked about Maggie being put up as collateral. She could see that Beau was considering the idea, another way to put her in her place and demean her in front of his crude friends.
"Maggie, Honey, why don't you come over here and give me a little luck." Although there was a smile on his face, it was more of a sneer. "Come on," he wheedled, "make your Big Daddy happy."
She groaned to herself, gritted her teeth and smiled as she moved next to her husband.
"That's my girl," he crooned, stroking her ass. He had dangerous written all over him tonight.
Maggie just hoped she wasn't going to end up in the emergency room — or even worse, dead.
"Say, boys, ain't my little wife here a peach? Wouldn't you just like to eat 'er up?" Beau laughed, then his face changed and Maggie knew what was coming.
"Honey, how 'bout you do a little stripper dance for us? Show off your merchandise cause if I lose this round, someone's takin' you home for the night. Whaddaya say, Boys, you want to take a bite outta my little Porter peach here?"
"I'd rather not, Beau," she whispered.
"Oh, she'd rather not!" Beau roared with laughter. "Well, it ain't up to you Sweetheart. You belong to me and you do what I tell you to do." With that said, he reached out and grabbed the front of her blouse and giving it a savage yank, ripped it apart, buttons flying. She knew better than to fight him, so she stood still and stared at him.
Maggie could tell the others were sobering up and becoming uncomfortable with Beau's treatment of her. Suddenly they all rose to go muttering excuses about getting home.
Instead of diffusing the situation, it only made Beau angrier and he cussed them, calling them sissies and a lot of things she couldn't understand because he tended to slur his words when drunk and angry. Then he turned his wrath on her.
"I spend a small fortune on you and you can't make yourself attractive for my friends?" he raged.
He began slapping her softly on the face, first one side and then the other, playing a game with her. Then without warning, he reared back and struck her hard and she fell back. His game was just getting started. Stunned by the blow, she lay on the floor, knowing there was more to come but too addled to even try to get away or avoid the blows he rained down on her. Before finally tiring he'd kicked, beaten, cut and then raped her, leaving her weak and crying in a pool of her own blood. Then he left the house and wouldn't be back until she was all healed up and presentable again. She knew his pattern by now. He'd come back in a few weeks and act like nothing had happened. After laying there half senseless for what seemed like hours, she managed to crawl to the phone and call for help.
Everyone in town knew what happened to Beau's wife, but he insisted he'd been away from home and Maggie had been attacked and assaulted by a home invader. Beau had money, he owned most of the town, provided most of the jobs, so the whole thing was allowed to stay on the public record as a home invasion, assailant unknown.
But this one was the final straw for Maggie Jo Stark. She had her plans ready to put into motion the minute she got her chance. It was either disappear or die.