NATASHA POINT OF VIEW.

Clayton had hit me several times, sometimes during sex, and other times when he was riled up. But as he did those, I never protested. This was the first time I was doing something back. As my open palm connected with his cheek, I felt a small bubble grow inside of me; I felt alive, for the first time in a very long time.

"Natasha," he said, stunned, his hand on his cheek which I imagined was stinging with the pain. "You hit me, Natasha."

"Fuck yes, I did," I said. "And ...