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“Yes.” I spare her from having to say the word. “If he’s a danger to you or to him,”—I tip my head toward the bedroom door where her little boy is sleeping—“I would kill if I had to.”
“Skid, I didn’t come here for that.”
“Then why did ya?” I take her hand in mine so she can’t avoid my question. Suddenly, it feels really important to hear the answer.
“I came here because there has never been a time in my life when I've felt safer than that time I spent with you.”
I close my eyes and drop my head when her confession hits me straight in the chest. My fingers automatically grip her tighter, and yet she remains silent until I open my eyes and feel brave enough to look back at her.
“I’m sor—”
“Please don’t say that again,” she interrupts.
“But I am. What I did to ya was wrong. It was outta character. I shouldn’t have—”
“I don’t want to talk about that now. Right now, I need to focus on Charlie. You were right before, he is picking up on how scared I am and I can’t have that. I need him to feel secure while I figure all this out.”
“Thank you.”
“For what?” Addison shakes her head, clearly confused.
“For coming to me. For still believing that I can take care of you despite what I did.”
Her defensive shield quickly reforms, and when she stands back on her feet, she lifts her glass and knocks back what's left in it.
“Desperate people do desperate things, Skid.” Slamming it back down, she turns on her heels and marches back to the spare bedroom.
Seven Years Ago
“Are you ready?” My father smiles at me as he takes my hand and I do the only thing I can do.
Nodding my head, I pull together all my courage and smile back at him. The nerves in my stomach are doing summersaults. I’m sure it’s going to throw up the raw offal I had to eat after I spoke my vows a few hours ago. I know what happens next, I’ve had long enough to prepare myself for it. Taking a breath and straightening out the crisp white tunic I’m wearing, I let him lead me out the door and through the village.
Everyone has turned out, their bodies forming an aisle that leads to the building where the elders hold their meetings. My father guides me through them, nodding his head at the people who bow their heads and make well wishes. My heart breaks when I see Charlie standing with his family, and knowing the bruises on his face are all my fault makes me want to cry.
“I’m sorry.” The words fall silently from his lips as we pass him, and I decide that I have to put a brave face on for him too. He’s suffered enough, his attempt to stop the ceremony from taking place this morning earned him a beating. I warned him that he was foolish to even try. I was chosen, there was never going to be anything he or I could do to stop it. Just like there's nothing that will stop what will happen to me next.
My mother and sister stand on either side of the door that leads to the room where I will perform my first duty as Abraham’s wife. Both of them keep their heads bowed as we pass, but when my sister reaches out her hand so her fingertips can brush against mine, I lift my head and see the tiny, sad smile she offers me before I step inside.
The room is lit by candles, and all six of the village elders surround the four-poster bed that's replaced the table in the center of the room. They are dressed in matching red tunics and have harsh, serious looks on their faces. Knowing that they will be here to witness what’s about to happen makes my legs feel as though they’ll give in.
My father, who was recently appointed by Abraham for Elderman status, manages to keep me upright, and when I turn my head to look at him, I see no guilt nor remorse for what he knows I will suffer. Just pride and admiration as he passes my new husband my hand and then places a red tunic on himself.
For my father, it is a great honor that I was chosen. Abraham is our leader, the village’s very own messiah, and earlier today I became his third wife. He would have had four, but Rowena died while pushing his tenth child into the world just a few days ago. He stands in front of me with a dark smile on his face, and every intention to ‘gift’ me with his eleventh.
The door behind me closes, making me jump, and when my father gestures his eyes toward the bed as if I need a reminder as to why I’m here, I swallow thickly and take the few final steps towards it.
The men surrounding us are placed evenly apart so every angle of the bed can be observed. Wasting no more time, my husband steps toward me, his fingers getting straight to work as he starts loosening the ties on the neck of my tunic. When he gathers it and drags it up my body, I automatically raise my arms to assist him. I keep my face straight, holding onto my dignity by refusing to cry when my naked form is exposed fully to the eight men in this room, one of whom is my father. Abraham takes a step back so he can study me, and humiliation flushes hot under my cheeks.
“Seems you are not just a pretty face.” He smiles, revealing his rotten teeth and causing bile to rise in my throat. “Wide hips for childbearing too.” He grabs hold of them, forcing me tight to his body, ensuring I feel the hardness under his robe when it presses against my stomach. It makes me shudder when I think of it being inside me.
Last night, my mother explained what my duty would entail. It sounded invasive and a lot like it’s going to hurt. My hands are shaking uncontrollably now, and my heart is pounding out of my chest.
“I will be gentle with you, just for tonight,” he whispers as his dirty nails brush through my hair and his putrid breath spreads across my cheek.
“Lie for me, Addison. The wider you stretch your thighs, the less it will hurt.”
Four of the men step forward, pulling the see-through fabric that acts as a curtain around the bed while I do as I’m instructed.
