I Thee Take

“Was she hurt?”

He doesn’t quite look at me. 

I grip his hair, force his face to mine. He needs to man up. I made a mistake trusting him to protect her. 

“Did. They. Hurt. Her?” 

“She was hunched over when they dragged her out,” he pauses. “Naked,” he adds in a barely audible whisper.

It’s hard to swallow. I can’t put a finger on the thoughts and emotions turned to physical sensation inside me. Blood pounds against my ears. A burning hot rage followed by the cold fear of loss. Of losing someone else. Losing her.

My dream comes back to me, that scene again. Scarlett in my mother’s place. Scarlett calling for me. Calling for me to help her. It was no coincidence. 

“I figure if I’m drunk enough, it won’t hurt as much.”

I release him and walk into the bedroom. Glass crunches under my shoe. I look down only to see the wedding band I ripped from her finger.

I called her a tramp. I almost hit her. 

“I figure if I’m drunk enough, it won’t hurt as much.”

Won’t hurt as much. It had struck me when she’d first said it. Not a virgin, no. How badly did Marcus Rinaldi hurt her? Did he do more than she let on? And was her uncle lying when he told me that story of how her brothers humiliated her? Wouldn’t let Rinaldi touch her until after the wedding?

I shake my head, run a hand through my hair and bend to pick up the wedding band. I’d dropped it on the bed after forcing my mother’s ring from her finger. 

I see the blood then. Not much but it’s there on the terra cotta tile. A deep red stain against the rusty orange. It comes off the ring when I smear my thumb over it. I slip the gold band onto my pinkie finger. It only goes to the first knuckle. She’s just a little thing. No match for the men who came for her. 

“She was hunched over when they carried her out. Naked.”

Did he touch her? Jacob? Would he have touched her?

“No.” I pocket the ring and walk into the bathroom. If I go down that road, I will not be able to function. 

This is where they surprised her. She must have been in the bath. Maybe trying to make sense of my accusation on our wedding night. 

The tub is still mostly full and there’s a lot of water on the floor. A towel lies discarded a few feet away. If I know Scarlett, they must have dragged her out of the tub kicking and screaming. She’s a fighter. A survivor. 

She’ll survive until I can get to her. 

She has to.

*Edited for website.