I woke the next morning feeling groggy, my eyelids heavy, with a severe case of cottonmouth. I knew instantly he must have sedated me. Was he always going to do that when I became unmanageable? I was certain the lack of oxygen and blood flow to my brain couldn't be good for me. I could hear birds chirping as the sun poured in through the window behind the dining room table. It was bright, and I squinted against the glare from the picture frames on the wall. As I took in my surroundings I nearly screamed when I came face to face with Eliza. She was standing beside the pull-out mattress, staring down at me, her face only inches away. She had a deep look of contemplation and it wasn't until she took a step back, did I notice the giant meat cleaver in her hand. I opened my mouth, but she moved fast, pressing it against my throat, a small trickle of blood made its way down my chest. My heart nearly stopped and for a moment I couldn't breathe. I could feel Sam curled against me, his arm wrapped passively around my waist and I willed him to wake up. I didn't want to give her reason to kill me, so I didn't dare move.
"Big brother said you tried to leave us...He said you promised him you wouldn't, then you hit him over the head and ran away. You're a dirty liar and a bad wife." My heart seemed to freeze in my chest, she
had
killed his first wife, so I knew that she was more than capable of slicing open my jugular if she truly wanted to. Had she killed Megan with the same knife? It took me several tries to speak, my lips stuck together, and my tongue felt like sandpaper rubbing against the roof of my mouth and my voice came out raspy
"You are right, I am a terrible wife. But I want to be a better one. I am done with lying. He was right, I did run away, and I learned my lesson when he sent the dogs after me. I understand now that my place is here; with Sam, with Arioch...even with you and Skye."
"They must really like you if they left you in one piece."
"Every time it pulls or twinges, I am reminded I belong here, with my new family." She gave me a small smile, but the blade didn't budge.
"That's what the first one said too! Pretty words from a poisoned mouth. Megan promised me we would be sisters. She said we could even have a girl's night...but she was a nasty little fibber too." She glanced at Sam who slept beside me, blissfully unaware that he was on the verge of losing his second wife, and her eyes softened. She cared about him, that much was obvious; she loved him...was possibly even
in
love with him.
"We could make it a spa night, I even know how to French braid hair! We do need to get Sam's permission, it may take me some time to earn enough trust." Her eyes lit up, before slanting with suspicion.
"Do you
swear
it?" she demanded.
"Of course! I've never had a sister before; I think we could have lots of fun." The pressure of the blade was gone, and I let out a long-bated breath. Did I sound convincing enough? Was my smile displaying excitement?
"You have to pinky promise, that if big brother allows it, we will have a girls night." She extended her pinky to me, I slowly curled mine around it and she shook up and down vigorously smiling as she did.
"Remember, if you break a pinky promise, that means I get to keep your pinky." She curled her finger for emphasis in a goodbye wave and giggled. I wasn't sure if it was a joke or threat, but I wanted to bring the suggestion up to Sam and at least try to give her a 'girls' night. I was convinced she was much more frightening than Arioch or Sam. At least Arioch had some logic when he threatened to kill me, broken logic, mind you. But Eliza wanted to kill me for the actions of a woman I'd never even met and maybe some misplaced jealousy. We both heard Skye bustling about in her room and with a finger to her lips, Eliza skipped backward into her room. Just as she closed her door, Skye opened hers and I let out a shaky breath as my hand moved to my neck. She had only nicked the skin and it thankfully had already stopped bleeding. Did I tell Sam? What would happen to Eliza then? Would he punish her, effectively turning her against me? Would she tell him? Sam nuzzled his face into my neck as his mother made her way into the kitchen and wordlessly began cooking breakfast.
"Good morning, my beautiful wife," he greeted warmly, and I relaxed ever so slightly. I opened my mouth to greet him good morning but ended up choking on the words. I muttered an mmhm, hoping that would appease him; the last thing I wanted was for him to think I was purposefully being rude.
I could feel his morning wood poking against my back as he began slowly rocking his hips and I froze, body going stiff in his arms. He wouldn't dare fuck me in front of his mother, would he? Or was he fucking her too? If I fought him, that might awaken Arioch. I didn't want to have sex with him, especially not after what I had witnessed the previous night. Incest or murder were not his only choices and I believed deep down he had to know that. He had been born and raised in the free world, with us 'heathens', he didn't
have
to continue living with his family or living his life by their distorted rules.
"What's wrong Kitty Kat?" Sam suddenly stopped, concern in his voice. Tears filled my eyes, but I widened them, trying to suck them back in with my will alone. I didn't want to cry dammit! Crying wasn't going to help, it was only going to make me look weak. He rolled me over so that I was facing him and finally took in the complete sight of me. I hadn't really glanced in the mirror since the day he'd drowned me, apart from right before our ceremony, but I was sure I was quite a sight. He frowned, his thumb gently grazing my discolored cheek and I remembered the last thing Sam probably remembered was a fight with Marcus. Did he know that Arioch and I had spent the previous day burying them? Should I tell him? Did Sam even
need
to know? Maybe it was better if he didn't, it was obvious that he couldn't handle stress well; as evidenced by his alter ego.
"Did
they
do this to you?" Sam asked. I focused my gaze on his chin, trying to count each individual hair in his stubble as I shrugged. His stubble was starting to get a little scruffy and I found that it suited him.
"When I ask you something, I expect an answer out loud."
I patted the middle of my throat, indicating that wasn't going to happen. I was pretty sure I
could
talk if I really wanted to, but my throat was already raw from the few sentences I had spoken to his sister. Sam scowled, the look making his face age a couple years as he sighed.
"Then nod or shake your head; I want answers. Did my cousins do this!?" I could feel my lower lip quiver as the tears threatened to spill once more and I shook my head as I tried to control my breathing. If I could keep my breathing calm, then I could keep the tears at bay. Sam tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, hand cupping my face and for a second, I relished the feel of its comfort. I hadn't realized how hard the whole ordeal had really been until I was faced with someone who seemed to care about my well-being, about what I was feeling. Or he was at least very good at pretending. I didn't have anybody on my side, not really; Sam was the closest thing I had to an ally and I knew I couldn't trust him as far as I could throw him. I found myself missing his softer side when Arioch was in charge. He kissed my forehead and I prayed he didn't insist on seeing all of me; there were just too many marks and I was in no condition to explain them all. He pulled me against his chest, wrapping me into a warm embrace; the hug a little tighter than it needed to be. I wasn't sure if that was for me or for himself. Did he feel guilty? He
had
given in after all; he allowed Arioch to take over rather than keep fighting. Maybe I didn't mean as much to him as he thought I did.
"They are going to pay for what they have done, I swear it." he whispered as he released me.
"They did" I croaked, my voice raspy.
"What do you mean?" I shook my head and motioned to my throat again, it was just too painful. Sam pulled himself into a sitting position, then turned towards the kitchen where his mother was mixing pancake batter.
"I need paper and something to write with," he announced. No polite request, just a loud statement that had Skye immediately stop what she was doing, open a drawer and bring him the items as though she were nothing more than a trained slave; and maybe she was. He handed them to me and I begrudgingly pulled myself up to sit beside him. My hand shook a little, but I managed to write my reply anyways.
