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She knew his game. Kind Travis was a trick, designed to make her lower her guard. Then, when she wasn’t expecting it, he’d turn on her and beat the ever-living shit out of her.
“Fuck you, Trav!”
Quinn knew she was making it worse by yelling at her husband. Maybe she wanted to die. No, that wasn’t true. She wanted to live, just not here with Travis. Death would be preferable to this.
“Don’t be that way, Annie. Come out darlin’. I’ve missed you.”
“Leave me alone!”
Travis stood up. Was he going to leave? Quinn knew better, but that damn emotion— hope, got her every time.
Suddenly, she was no longer under the bed. Travis had flipped the mattress and box spring over and onto the floor, leaving her exposed beneath the metal slats of the frame. Quinn ducked, but Travis was faster. He reached out and grabbed her by her hair.
“Get out of there, bitch. You know better than to fucking hide from me!”
Quinn cried from the pain that sliced across her scalp as Travis dragged her out from under the bed.
“Stop Travis! You’re hurting me!”
“Shut up!”
He yanked her out of the bedroom, never letting go of the length of dark hair he had wrapped around his fist. Travis flung her to the floor of the living room, flipping her to her back and putting one of those goddamn boots on her throat before she could move.
Quinn knew he could kill her if he applied enough pressure to crush her windpipe. Her lungs began to burn from the lack of oxygen. Black spots appeared in the periphery of her vision. She scrabbled to get a hold of his foot with both hands, using all of her strength to try to push him off. Nothing happened, he didn’t even flinch.
This is it. He’s going to kill me this time.
“You think you can beat me? You’re weak! You’re a useless piece of shit, Annie. The only thing you’re good for is fucking.”
Travis finally lifted his foot and Quinn gasped, sucking in huge gulps of precious air. She rolled to her side, coughing and sputtering as she wheezed through her raw throat. Quinn clawed at the carpet, trying to put some distance between her and her husband. She recoiled when he laughed at her, a cruel, taunting laugh that rattled her to her bones.
Quinn cried out when her palm slipped on a shard of glass, ripping her hand open from pinky to thumb. She saw the remnants of her daddy’s flag case scattered across the floor. The American flag presented to her at his funeral by the Marine detail that carried his casket, lying forgotten on the carpet.
“You bastard!” Quinn screamed.
Her vision clouded with rage, she snatched up a piece of glass and lunged for Travis. Quick as a snake, his huge hand easily caught her wrist, squeezing until Quinn was sure her bones would snap in half. The weapon fell out of her hand, uselessly clattering to the floor.
Travis backhanded her— hard — and her head hit the floor, bouncing off of the strewn remains of her father’s flag case. His fist reared back and landed on her face. Stars exploded behind her eyelids in an overwhelming wave of pain.
Quinn simultaneously wished she’d blackout so this could end and that she would stay awake so she could fight.
“I’m going to teach you, Annie. You’ll learn who’s boss in this house.”
Travis shoved her dress up to her waist and straddled her thighs, pressing his heavy weight down on her.
“No! No, no, no! Travis, don’t do this.” Huge sobs wracked her chest, causing her to sputter and cough.
“Shut up!” He punched her in the face again.
Quinn felt her lip split open, the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth.
Travis tore her panties off in one rough tug. Her eyes too swollen to see, Quinn could hear him unbuckling his belt and lowering his zipper. The sound of each tooth of the zipper unfastening brought her closer to living her worst nightmare.
Travis held her down and entered her roughly, grunting on top of her like a rutting animal. Quinn’s body was unprepared for the intrusion. She could feel the delicate flesh tearing inside. The sheriff’s badge on his shirt jabbed her in the breast with each hard thrust, a reminder of how absolute his power over her was. It took every molecule of strength to keep quiet, to keep from vomiting all over Travis. She did that once. He kicked her so hard she couldn’t take a deep breath for over a month.
Silent tears ran freely down her cheeks, burning a path across her skin.
Funny, Quinn thought, she knew she wouldn’t live much longer if she didn’t do something about Travis. But she wasn’t trained to fight. She didn’t know how to survive situations like this. Quinn was completely and totally helpless.
