What? This isn’t right. My eyes fly open to a blurred yet instantly recognizable red plaid. Recognizable because I was just watching the man who wore it.
Warren.
And he’s carrying me away. Icy fear streaks down my spine and into my fingertips. I knew it! Knew he must have mistaken my watching him through the window as an invitation to something more.
“No!” But my yell is nothing more than a choked gurgle in my panicked state.
“You’re okay, Mara,” Warren murmurs as his arms tighten. “Go back to sleep.”
Sleep? For him to do whatever he wants with me?
No! No no no. I’ve got to dosomething.I can’t be—refuse to be—raped again. Not anymore. Not with my babybearing witness to it. Fully awake now and half feral with equal parts rage and fear, I flail about, my feet to the floor my only aim. “Let me go!”
“Mara, stop it. I’m just moving?—”
The punch that bounces off his jaw steals his balance along with his words because his arms lock about me as he fumbles to regain his footing. Then my world shifts as my back hits the bed.
The bed.
Cold dread constricts my ribcage.
No. Not again.
“Mara…” he grunts into my ear, hips pressed into mine from the force of our landing. “You don’t understand. I’m not going to?—”
“Stop,” I gasp. A tear slides into my hairline as I thrash and silently pray to a God I haven’t believed in for years.Just let me get one leg free…just one.
There!
In a twist of fate that has never been favorable to me, Warren’s weight lifts enough for me to shove a knee between his legs and jab upwards until his breath catches in a deep groan. But that turns out to be a poor plan because he collapses onto me, trapping me beneath his heavy weight.
“Mara—” Warren wheezes. “By all that’s holy, woman…” He rolls off, one hand protectively cupping his manhood and the other thrown over his face in a manner that does nothing to hide his pained grimace.
I greedily expand my air-starved lungs and jerk away, endless thoughts crashing through my mind. Emmaline. Need to hold her. Need to find a place to hide and keep her safe.
But the moment my trembling limbs reach the edge ofthe bed, Warren takes another ragged breath behind me. And just like that, I realize what I’ve done.
I hit him.
Punched him all over and kneed him between the legs. Like a bear that’s been poked one too many times, punishment is sure to come when he’s able to move again. Punishment that I have to keep far away from my little girl because, in his anger, he might forget what small bit of affection he holds for her. Affection that was only a trick to gain my trust.
I could grab her and run, but where would we go? Down the long, dusty road back into the town that was my prison and hope against hope that the kindly doctor’s wife would take us in? That’s only if we don’t get accosted on the road before then. And with as often as Emmaline needs to eat, it would take two, maybe even three times as long before we arrived.
No.
All hope seeps from me as reality sets in. At least for tonight, I’ll have to accept whatever punishment he deems fit. Anything to keep her safe. I numbly sink back down against the headboard, hugging my empty arms to myself instead of reaching for my sleeping baby sleeping mere feet away.
Warren’s hand falls from his face, and my heartbeat triples in cadence. This is it. What will he do to me? Hit me? Or worse…
The wall opposite me opens up into a field of flowers. The chrysanthemums call to me, promising safety within their depths. I’m more than ready to disappear into them until Warren is finished punishing me, but no…I can’t do that. Not with Emmaline defenseless in her makeshift cradle. My lips tremble as I ignore the flowers’ soft whispers and stay present for whatever I must endure next.
“Mara. What did you do to me, woman?”
Now he sounds just likehim.Such cruelty to make me confess my transgression. A fleeting thought for a helpless Emmaline is all it takes for my tightened lips to force out the words he wants. Better not to make him repeat himself. “I hit you.”
His low, relaxed chuckle is not what I expected in response. “That you did, Mara. That you did. You’ve got a hell of a right hook and a fast knee to boot. Here, lemme see your hand.”
No. Anything but that. As if even my fingers were suspicious of the big hand he stretches my way, they curl protectively into my palm. Is this another dream? I glance wildly around the room, but there’s no cane. “Wake up,” I whisper to myself as I rock back and forth. “It’s only a dream.”
