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CHAPTER12
Sariah
My ribs ache fiercely as I try to sit up straight. I know Declan will be angry if I slouch. I can’t hide the bruises on my face. They are there for everyone to see. If I expect Jeremiah to care that my father beat me, I’m sorely mistaken. The man has been sitting opposite me for the last hour, staring at me like I’m a prize he’s won. From the little smirk he keeps making, I surmise he is pleased by my father’s show of discipline.
“What did you do to warrant such a beating?” he asks. “I don’t like disobedience.”
I feel like I’m shrivelling inside myself. How can this be my fate? I should be sobbing, weeping for the future that lies ahead of me, but I feel numb. Empty. What does it matter what happens to me? I have no voice left. No ability to grow into the person I should be.
Whoever that is.
I sit demurely, not daring to breathe or move in case I anger somebody. I feel beaten down, and I hate the person I am becoming. This is not who I am, but what do I have left to fight for? A path that has been chosen for me. A husband who will abuse me as much as my father has. A life I did not want.
I want to tell Jeremiah I don’t want him, but a glare from Declan holds my tongue. My fingers move absently to my wrist where the missing bracelet usually sits. I think I must have left it in the hotel room, and it breaks my heart. It was my mother’s. I have other trinkets of hers so it’s not the only thing I have left, but I feel its loss like a physical blow.
“You know how these girls can be,” Declan says, speaking for me. “Sometimes a heavy hand is needed to keep them in line.”
Jeremiah leans back in his seat and eyes me. “Discipline is important.”
Loathing rolls through every cell in my body. I despise this man. The thought of being in his clutches for the rest of my natural born life makes my stomach roll. Maybe I can run away. Start a new life somewhere else.
With what money?
I try to ignore that voice in the back of my head that taunts me. It makes me feel useless and pathetic. As much as I hate to admit it to myself, I am both.
“I find a good beating now and again makes all the difference,” Declan says, keeping his attention locked on me. I can see his eyes are silently communicating that if I don’t toe the line, he will hurt me again. I’m not sure how much more I can take. He’s already hurt me so much.
“I’m looking forward to the wedding, my dear,” Jeremiah says.
Nausea rolls up my throat at the thought of it. Even so I managed to choke out a “Me too.”
I hate myself saying those words and going along with this horrific plan. I wish I could channel my mother’s strength. I wish I could stand up for myself and be the hero of my own story. I had tried that, and it didn’t end well. My ribs throb as if to remind me of the pain I suffered for my show of defiance.
Jeremiah pushes up from his seat and comes to sit next to me. I try not to stiffen as he moves so close to me our legs are touching. He reaches out and runs his fingers through the ends of my hair, skimming over the top of my breast as he does. I will myself to stay calm. “You have no idea how lucky you are, darling.”
It doesn’t have the same impact on me as when Luke calls me his little dove. There is something sinister behind Jeremiah’s endearment. When Luke says his words to me, I feel cherished.
“I’m going to make you my queen. You’ll sit at my side. Looking like a pretty little ornament. And you are pretty, my dear. Like a porcelain doll. You have your mother’s look about you.”
It’s the first thing he’s said to me that elicits a response. My mother being on his tongue infuriates me. He doesn’t have the right to say her name to me.
It also gains a response from Declan. His jaw clenches and I see the annoyance at having her brought up. He will never get over what she did to him. Even though he made her pay the ultimate price for her mistake.
If it was a mistake.
I have no idea if my mother loved my real father. Knowing how it feels to be trapped in a relationship not of your choosing, I can understand why she might have found sanctuary in the arms of another. I didn’t understand it for a long time. Meeting Luke changed that. I’ve tasted what a real relationship could feel like.
“There is not much of you in her, Declan,” Jeremiah mocks. He means it is a joke, but it hits too close to that raw nerve that Declan has exposed.
“Alice was far prettier than I am, so it’s just as well Sariah takes after her mother.”
Jeremiah leans into me and presses his mouth against the side of my cheek. I hold still, frozen. I’m not scared. I just feel helpless.
The touch of his mouth against my skin makes me crawl inside myself. He leans into me and speaks directly into my ear. “I will expect you to be an obedient wife. You won’t want to cross me.”
“Sariah, excuse us for a moment. I need to talk to Jeremiah alone.”
Grateful for the reprieve, I push up from my seat and have to stop myself from running to the door. As soon as I’m on the other side of it and it shuts behind me, I let my tears fall. I can’t do this. I can’t be strong. I feel like I’m coming apart at the seams. Every conversation with Jeremiah rips my soul to shreds. I should move away from the door, but I find myself lingering there. Listening will get me worse than a beating. I know it, but I still press my ear back against the door frame.
