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“Not that smile,” she said with a chuckle. “That smile is dangerous.”
“Truly? How so?”
“Oh.” She waved her hand dismissively. “It makes me want to drop what I’m doing and hump you.”
John gave a chocked laughter. “Hump? Like a dog?”
Her smile turned into a grin. “Exactly,” she said smugly. “And that”—she pointed her sketching pencil at his face—“is exactly the smile I was hoping for, My Lord.”
They laughed, and she sketched for what seemed like hours. They got back home for supper and filed into the dining room with their large family. The room bristled with noise, banter, and laughter as everyone settled down around the table. John leaned closer to Sam as he helped her into her seat and whispered into her ear, “I want to fill this house with this many children.”
Sam looked at over a dozen people at the table and blinked. John winked at her and went to occupy the head of the table.
Life was finally perfect.
* * *
Sam woke up that night to muffled noises and something that sounded like thrashing. She had to wait for her eyes to adjust to the dark before finally rousing from a dreamlike state. After a moment, she realized what was happening. John was having a nightmare. Again. He seemed like he was trying to shout, but his throat was constricted. His entire body was tense, and his hands were drawn into fists.
“Shh, John, it’s all right.” She tried to soothe him and lull him back to sleep like she used to do when they’d just started sharing a bed, but he didn’t seem to respond to her. She drew out her breath and put a soothing hand over his arm.
That’s when everything changed. Suddenly he was upon her. His large body covered hers, and his hands were on her throat, throttling her. His eyes were wide open, but they seemed frantic in the dark, as if he didn’t know what was happening.
He was heavy and strong, and she couldn’t struggle if she wanted to. His hands were clasped so tightly that she couldn’t draw a breath, much less scream. She felt herself turning crimson. Not enough oxygen was traveling to her brain, and her mind grew foggy. She tried to take in a breath or get him off her. Her hands flailed by her side and then everything went black.
When Sam opened her eyes, it might have been an eternity or just a few seconds later. She felt strong arms surrounding her, and she was tucked against the hard wall of a chest. She was then placed on the soft bed.What is going on?Why was she being transported to a bed?
She heard muffled noises: footsteps, hushed whispers, some arguing. Her mind still felt groggy, so she groaned and turned on her side.
The next time Sam woke up, the light was bright in her eyes, and a strange buzzing sound invaded her ears. She moaned and tried to turn away from the offending light, when she felt warm soothing hands down her sides.
“It’s all right, sweetheart,” Isabel said softly.
Sam opened her eyes and studied her sister’s worried face. She swallowed and noticed that her throat hurt. She cleared her throat and tried again.
“Isabel,” she croaked. “Where’s John?”
“Try not to speak, darling. The doctor said not to overtax your throat.”
Sam frowned.The doctor? What is going on?
She reached her hand out and touched her throat. It was sore, and she felt a slight swelling. Then a memory flashed. John’s hands on her throat, his body crushing hers. Was it a memory? Or was it a dream? John’s nightmare!
The events of the night came crashing back to her and gave her a sharp headache. Sam winced in horror. She looked around the empty room. Where was John?
“The doctor said that the injury was not serious. You just need to drink warm tea with honey and take care to not talk a lot, and you should be all right.”
Sam laid a gentle hand on her sister’s arm. “John,” she croaked.
“He’s…” Isabel looked away. “He’s busy.”
Busy? She didn’t believe that for a moment. She knew John wouldn’t leave her side, especially after what he did to her. He was probably guilt-riddled and ashamed. She wanted to go to him and soothe him, but she felt weary. John had probably spent all night with her anyway, and now he was resting.
But a strange feeling nagged at the back of her mind. She couldn’t concentrate enough to decipher it, so she decided to let it rest for now. She filed away this feeling in some chamber of her brain. She’d think about it when she was well-rested.
