Warning: Adult situation; semi-graphic images of rape and abuse. You’ve been warned.

Chapter Three

When Abigail Ann Barrington was a little girl, she liked to run. She loved the feeling of the wind blowing her hair and stinging her eyes. Her legs weren’t long or sinewy, but they were strong and they carried her quickly over any distance. When she ran she never got tired and she was little more than a blur to the world. When she was a little girl, she loved to run.

As she grew older, she ran out of time. That was the only time she ran. Her parents did not see running as an activity befitting any daughter of theirs. Her jumpers and tennis shoes were replaced by skirts and dress shoes. Suddenly, all anything was about was walking. Walking slowly so that everyone could see you. But Abbey didn’t want to be seen. All she wanted to be was a blur. A blur that went unseen in a world she would never be a part of. Just a blur.

Abbey had just put up the last of the dishes when she kitchen door swung open to reveal her very pissed fiancé. She was beyond exhausted and all she could think of was her bed in the guest room just upstairs. She imagined that locked door with him on the other side of it. She was just so close.

“Daniel, I’ve done the dishes and cleaned up the living room. I’m tired and I want to go to bed. Please, don’t fight with me right now.” He seemed to deflate at that.

“I don’t want to fight you, Abbey. I just want to love you. I want us to love each other.” She’d already been suspicious when he’d bothered to see to her at all. But now, she was downright scared.

“What do you want, Daniel?” The way he trapped her between his body and the countertop was all the answer she needed. “Don’t do this, please.” He took her face into his hands and kissed her with deliberate gentleness. She wasn’t moved or deceived. “Let me go.” He finally gave up all pretense and yanked her close by her collar.

“Why should I?”

“Because I asked you to.” He slid his hand up her chest to squeeze her neck.

“Why would that matter to me?” She flinched away from his tone.

“Because I‘m your fiancée.”

“Exactly, and that’s almost my wife. Wives be subject to your husbands as to the Lord, for the husband is the head of the wife as Christ was the Head of the Church.”

“How dare you use the Bible to justify how you treat me? You use God to --Why? Why are you doing this to me? I’ve been good to you.”

“But you haven’t given me what I want most, Abigail.” The glimmer in his eyes gave her the answer she feared. “That’s right, Abbey. I will have your precious virginity, just like you promised.”

“But we’re not married yet,” she answered meekly. She hated how weak she sounded when they spoke.

“Poor, Abbey.” He held up her right hand mockingly. “I put this ring on your finger. You belong to me. I do whatever I like with my things.”

“I am not a thing. I am a person with feeling and fears and love. Don’t hurt me.”

“Hmm.” He seemed to thing her words over briefly. “No.” He backhanded her so hard her neck snapped.

“Damn it.”

“Oh, did that hurt, beautiful?” He rubbed his knuckles against her reddened cheek. Her ‘fight or flight’ reflex began to wind up in the back of her mind. She’d be damned if he was going to rape her. She’d be damned.

Her wrapped his long, thin fingers around her wrist and yanked her roughly out of the kitchen. He shoved her to the floor and started to unbuckle his pants. She crawled away from his, but he pulled her back by her ankles. He pinned her wrists to her side and forced her mouth to his. She bit his tongue. He swore and wiped the blood off with his sleeve. He backslapped her and her head slammed into the wooden floor. She cried out desperately, but his parents weren’t home and they didn’t have a neighbor for ten miles.

He forced her thighs apart with his knee and tugged her skirt up around her hips. She kept trying to get away. He dropped his full weight on top of her and shoved his forearm into her throat.

“If you don’t do what I say, I will kill you and then I will still get what I want,” he threatened harshly. “I will get what I want. You don’t have to be alive for that.” She trembled beneath him and ceased her struggle. Her vision blurred with tears. She squeezed her eyes as tightly shut as she could and turned her face away as she felt him pull her underwear down around her knees. She bit her bottom lip until she tasted blood and yelped as she felt a gut-wrenching ache between her legs. She clinched her fists so hard that they turned white as tiny half-moon welts materialized on her palms. She exhaled sharply as groaned on top of her and forced down bile as his hands explored her chest for old time sake.

And all the while, all she could think of was the one who tried to save her from all this. As Daniel seemed to get further and further excited by her lack of resistance, she thought of Jed’s deep, rich voice and tender hands. Her back arched off the ground as another shard of pain scarred her. She finally cried out when it seemed like it would never end. That was all he needed. Another moment passed and he collapsed half on top of her, half on the floor.

He laid there on top of her quaking form for a while before rising. He stood over her and looked down hatefully.

“You’re nothing, but trash, Abbey. Just trash. No one’s going to want you now. Who would want some used up, scarred, empty girl like you? I don’t even want you, but I’ve already agreed to marry you, so now I’m stuck. Great.” He gave her a firm kick in the side as he buckled up his pants and tucked in his shirt. “God, you’re dirty. Clean yourself up.” He spit at her and walked away.

She tried to curl into the fetal position, but it hurt too much. She wept miserably as she sat up and tried to straighten out her clothes. She could see the new scars coming already. Her whole body felt battered. She sniffled as she pulled her underwear back up with a long wince. She held her ribs protectively as she shuffled towards the front door slowly. Every step was fire. It would have been so easy to just sit on the floor and cry. But she couldn’t because if she did, that would become her life.

She stopped in fear as she heard him moving upstairs. Then, the shower started and she breathed in thanks. God was on her side. She started to move faster, ignoring the pain as best she could. Her angry palms slipped on the door knob. She had to wipe her palms on her skirt to get them dry enough the grasp the brass knob. She used both hands to turn it and slipped out the door carefully, shutting it lightly behind her.

With trepidation, she crept down the stairs and to the end of the curved driveway, all the way expecting to hear him calling for her or coming after. But she reached the end and there was nothing. No urgent, furious steps, no ugly names. Just the faint noise of the upstairs shower. She was so close to getting away. So close.

However today, running wasn’t about fun or childish play. Today, it was about survival. If she didn’t run away, she’d never survive here.

She just had no idea where else she’d go.

~~~~

Jed drove down the long road slowly, giving himself every opportunity to turn back. He knew he should’ve just minded his own business, but he couldn’t simply abandon her with that man. Everything about him was dominant, too dominant. A man like him would crush someone like her. She didn’t need a master, she needed a partner. In his mind, he hoped that maybe he could be that partner.

He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he nearly missed the sight of a small person crumpled on the side of the road. He braked as he pondered whether or not his eyes had deceived him. He looked in his rearview mirror and saw a familiar hand extended onto the edge of the road. He hastily put the car in reverse and rolled back. He jumped out of the car and stumbled down into the ditch.

Her white button down blouse was dirty and grass-stained. Her floral skirt was dingy with various dark-colored spots. And her exposed legs and wrists were bruised. He noticed that her index finger had begun to bleed again.

He took her gingerly into his arms and lifted her from the ground. She cried out in terror. He just held her closer.

“Abbey, Abbey! It’s Jed. I won’t hurt you, honey. I won’t ever hurt you. Just hold on, baby. I’ve got you.” She murmured to herself incoherently. He sat her in the passenger seat and buckled her in. He took off his jacket and covered her. He paused as he realized how small she was. His jacket dwarfed her curled form. “That son of a bitch did this. I know he did.”

He jogged back to his side and got in, swinging the car around. She had to see a doctor. He wished he could turn back time and take her with him back to his hotel room. She would’ve been safe there. She wouldn’t have been hurt.

“Oh, Abbey.” As she listened to him talk to her encouragingly, though he thought she was unconscious, she began to cry in earnest. She was finally somewhere safe. She was where she should’ve been. She clutched his jacket to her and took a deep breath. Even his scent was safe.

“You’re all right. Don’t worry.” She nodded, for the first time believing that there might be some sanctuary to be found. “I won’t let him hurt you again.” She smiled, but winced at the twinge in her cheek.

She might be safe with him, but her scars were here to stay, and being safe was only half the battle. Getting away would mean the war.

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