The Good Sister: Part Two

by Saint James, London

  “Take Ashton out, Reid!” Trinity yelled

  “Trinity!” I bellowed, fighting against Reid without breath.

  “I will get Trinity,” Alec assured, moving to Trinity’s side. He cut loose the rest of the ropes. “Get Lord Archer out of the stables, Reid.”

  Fire spread rapidly across the front of the stables. The horses were going wild.

  “The horses,” Trinity said moving to her feet. “Help me, Alec.” Trinity moved, and the golden gown dropped to the ground. She was wearing only Reid’s suit coat.

  “Forget the horses!” I yelled. “Trinity!”

  Reid tugged me forward. Alec moved swiftly, loosening one stall door after the other. Horse after horse left their constraints. They ran wildly from the stable.

  “Phantom,” Trinity called, going to his stall, unlatching the gate. “Run, Phantom!” she shouted. He bolted from his stall.

  “Zeus!” Trinity called.

  “We cannot get to him, Trinity!” Alec yelled. “The fire is spreading too fast. We must get out of here.”

  Alec grabbed on to Trinity’s waist. “Take her, Alec!” I screamed.

  “No, Alec, I can’t leave Zeus!” she cried.

  Reid had pulled me just outside the stable doors. People from the gala started to gather. The stable was going up in flames.

  “Get Trinity out of there, Alec!” I saw them come to the opening of the stable doors.

  Gavin leapt up like a true demon from within a nightmare of flames, placing his arms around Trinity’s chest, and tearing her from Alec’s hands. Alec turned as a rafter fell; he moved back, raising his arm in protection of his face. The heat swelled. I leapt forward, breaking free of Reid, throwing out my hand, and yelling with every particle of my body.

  “Trinity! God, Trinity!” I lunged further ahead; about to enter the flames as the rest of the burning rafter fell in what seemed slow motion.

  I saw everything, yet I was helpless to do anything to stop this horrendous scene playing out before my eyes. The flames shot out toward me. Alec stumbled back, free of the stable door.

  “We will see you in hell, little brother!” Gavin yelled, licking Trinity’s cheek while clutching her to his body.

  “It has only ever been you, Ashton. I love only you!” Trinity yelled. The rafter fell to the ground, causing the front of the stable to give way, collapsing in a fiery blaze as flames writhed, lapping up into the air as though a horde of serpent’s tongues.

  I fell to my knees. “No! Trinity! Not her, God!” I wrenched myself up, moving toward the flames. In that moment I wanted to die. I wanted to walk into the pits of hell to tear the blackened soul from my bastard of a brother. Rage at God, at man, at everything or every being that kept me from my beautiful Trinity.

  Alec stopped me, pulling back and securing me with force. “She is gone,” Alec said with tears streaming down his soot filled face.

  “God, No!” Reid screamed out.

  I whaled, my soul dying. “No!”

  Chapter Nineteen

  The stable was nothing but burning cinders, upon a pile of hot ash when the fire engines arrived. Trinity’s family had run screaming toward the stables to find me in hell.

  “No!” Francis shouted, flinging herself toward me. Reid caught her. “Not my girl!” she screamed, beating against his chest. “How can this be!”

  Reid held Trinity’s mother.

  “Oh God!” Jane screamed, falling into Bentley who was weeping without cease.

  “This can’t be happening,” Bentley said over and over as she and Jane clutched onto each other.

  Barrington ran past everyone, grabbing on to me. “My wife,” I said with barely a voice, “I have lost my beautiful wife. I cannot live, Barrington, not without her.”

  “Ashton!” my mother screeched as my father came to my side.

  “What has happened?” my father asked, grabbing on to the shredded remains of my suit jacket. “For the love of God, son!”

  I glanced into my father’s face. “Your son, father. Your son has finally succeeded. He took her from me,” I said with barely a voice.

  “Gavin? Where is your brother, Ashton?”

  “In hell, father! He took Trinity from me.”

  Barrington hoisted my good arm over his shoulder. “He requires medical attention,” he said to Maragrete, who was balling, tears flowing. “Fucking now!”

  “Gavin!” My father shouted into the night in a wrenching lament.

  “Lady Trinity,” my mother bemoaned her name as a ghost, falling into a swoon, dropping where she stood.

  I lunged at my father. Barrington held me back. “Did you know he was out? Did you know, father?”

  “No,” he rasped.

  “He was your curse, father. Your sin which plagued this family. Now he has taken everything that was good and pure. I curse the day he was born. I curse you!”

  In a swirl of deep crimson Jacqueline ran toward Alec. “Trinity!” Jacqueline shrieked. “Not my petit.” She fell into Alec’s arms.

  Max yelled out from somewhere in the shadow. “Gather up the horses. They will require attention.”

  “Pull the horse carriers out of the garages,” someone else said.

  My dead voice wafted within the smoke filled night. “It shall all fall to ruin. It is all tainted. This place is now a torment, flaming in the fires of hell. There is no life left here.”

  The sky rumbled and gave way to the first signs of rain as it began to fall. I laughed hysterically, losing my mind.

  “Trinity!” I roared into the heavens. The drops hit my face. Barrington dragged me to the front doors of the chateau.

  Chapter Twenty

  Aftermath.

  The sun was clouded by gray as the dawn rose like a lament within the haze of the smoldering cinders, which still gave evidence of hell in the distance, bemoaning the day that came. Flashing lights cut through the haze, causing a shot of red chaos upon the blackened rock of the once beautiful structure. Men sifted through the rubble, as pockets of heat were overturned. Steam in spirals of torment rose up from the ground like sulfur from the pits of damnation. The ground and the orchard were burnt, black. Hades, thy name is Briarwood Manor.

  I was seated in a chair, facing the window with Jacqueline at my feet, hugging my legs. I had finally allowed medical attention, which consisted of sixteen stitches in my forearm, six on my hand, and twelve on my shoulder. Wraps were added to provide support for five broken ribs. An adjustment of my shoulder took place in order to pop the dislocated joint back into place, but I turned down the painkillers. I wanted to live within the pain.

  Mayhem sat perched at my side while I absently moved my hand across the hair of his scruff. Within my left hand I clutched on to Trinity’s charm bracelet, crusted with my dark, dried blood. I refused to let loose of the bracelet, going mad in a fit of rage when it was even suggested.

  Alec had stitches in his thigh as well as on his bicep, more artwork to add to the canvas of his marred skin. Trinity’s death would be another scar upon the existence of his marred soul, I imagined. All of Trinity’s sisters from the brothel had gathered around Alec. He tried to comfort each, holding three at a time, all of them crying into his chest.

  Reid was holding Francis. They were perched upon a divan while Jane and Bentley held on to each other, looking lost and confused. My mother, the duchess, had taken to her bed while the Duke drank himself into oblivion. Barrington took over the task of instructing the staff, moving the horses, organizing the fire crews, moving the guests from the home, and closing the home off to the outside world, keeping up with only the business of the chateau that was a necessity. Soft wails could be heard throughout the household, mixing into the sound of the ticking clock, the creaking of the house, the careful movements of the staff.

  “I do not feel it, Jacqueline,” I said. “I do not feel as if she is gone from me.”

  Jacqueline looked up. “You are in shock, my lord.”

  “I should feel it,” I sai
d, staring out into the nothingness of my gloom, seeing the graying fog roll outside the window. “I should feel her absence.”

  “My Lord, perhaps you should shower, get out of these dirty, tattered clothes, and eat something,” Jacqueline suggested.

  “I cannot move. I have not the will.”

  The grandfather clock called of noon. The sound shuddered over my soul. With every strike the cord hit me, vibrated up my cold spine. Yet another hour without her.

  Remington entered and cleared his throat. “My Lord, the authorities wish to speak with you.”

  “They can go to hell. What good are they now?”

  “Should I instruct them to speak with Lord Barrington?”

  “If you wish. Now, leave me, Remington.”

  “Yes, my lord,” Remington replied.

  Mayhem’s ears perked up. He tilted his head. He let out two loud base sounding barks.

  “Be quiet, dog,” I said.

  From outside the parlor there was a crash. It sounded like hundreds of plates had fallen, scattering across the ground in a million shards, followed by an ear-piercing screech. “Milord! It is My Lady Trinity!” they yelled. “My Lady Trinity!”

  I jumped up and ran out of the parlor. “Pray tell, what do you speak of?” I asked, shaking Claudia. “Lady Trinity is gone.”

  Mayhem was barking, pawing the front doors of the chateau.

  “It is her, milord. Look,” Claudia said, pointing out the window.

  Within the fog, Zeus stood like a white aberration. His chest was cut deeply, and blood stained his snowy coat. Trinity was sprawled across Zeus’s neck, soaking wet, covered in nothing but Reid’s suit coat. Her long wet hair looked as though it had tangled into Zeus’s mane.

  “My God!” I bounded out the door.

  I ran to Zeus, finding Trinity was indeed there. This was real, not a figment of my imagination. I reached up and slid her limp body into my arms, feeling my shoulder protest, and my ribs scream out in pain, but I pushed past the physical pain and held my wife to my chest.

  “Trinity. Open your eyes, my dove.”

  Mayhem circled my feet. Barrington ran in my direction from the line of fire trucks. “Trinity!” he yelled.

  “Barrington, bring the car around. We need to get her to a hospital,” I said then bent to kiss her wet tangled hair.

  “Max!” Barrington called. “Zeus is injured, do whatever it takes to insure this horse survives. He brought our Lady Trinity home.”

  Trinity’s cheek was cold, and her plump lips were the color of blueberries. “Grab some blankets!” I bellowed, touching her pulse, feeling it beat. As long as her heart beat, I lived, and so would she. I brushed some curls aside. There was a deep cut on the top of her head. “Trinity, my love, stay with me.” I kissed her frosty lips. “Stay with me, my love.”

  Everyone ran from the house in a flurry of limbs; Francis and Reid finding their way to Trinity and me first.

  “Ashton!” Francis cried. “She’s alive!”

  “Trinity!” Reid shouted. “Wake up, baby bird.”

  Jacqueline ran to my side, heaving two quilts over my shoulder. “We must take off that wet coat.” She held up one quilt up like a curtain around me.

  I carefully lifted up Trinity’s shoulders so Jacqueline could remove the coat. She threw the garment to the ground. We both saw the bruises upon her breasts, a bite mark to her neck, her fragile wrists and ankles showing signs of rope burns.

  “Did your brother rape her?” Jacqueline asked.

  “He did not get the chance; however, he would have if Alec had not arrived.”

  “Ashton, she shall survive this, and so shall you.” She wrapped Trinity completely within one quilt then dropped the other.

  “My dove is a fighter. She shall survive,” I said as I placed her gingerly into the back of the Bentley. “Trinity, my love. Don’t leave me.” I cradled her head within my lap.

  ****

  We descended upon the hospital, all of us. It had been a blaze of vehicles coming down the quaint cobblestone streets of the village at blinding speeds. I carried Trinity within my arms and busted through the doors of the hospital, demanding immediate help. I fought with the hospital staff vehemently, wanting to stay with Trinity, and only leaving due to Barrington’s assurance I would only be in their way.

  “Every minute we stand here arguing is time away from your lady. Allow them to do their job, Archer. Trinity requires their complete attention,” he said, pulling me into a tight bear hug of a hold.

  “Come,” said Alec, helping Barrington. I was losing it.

  “I failed her,” I said.

  “No,” Reid said. “She knows you love her.”

  I watched the clock on the wall, feeling every moment I was away from my dove. She would be frightened and had a fear of hospitals. I needed to see her, touch her, look into her green eyes, yet I was afraid of what I might see there. She had always felt safe, protected with me, but Gavin had found his way to put his filthy hands upon her pristine flesh.

  I dropped my head, clasping my hands around the back of my neck, ignoring the pain of my body and experiencing the overwhelming pain within my soul. I would find a way to deal with this pain. I had to. My wife was back. Thank you, God. Only hours ago I was cursing God for taking my beauty away from me. I needed to clear my thoughts. Trinity would need me.

  The doctor walked into the small waiting room. Every eye shot up to his face in expectation. He was wearing plain teal green scrubs, his blond hair unkempt. Hell, he looked not much older than Trinity. I hope to hell he knows what he is doing. Maybe we should have taken the jet to Paris? But even with the jet this small hospital was closer, faster.

  “Who is the next of kin?” the doctor asked.

  “Another bloody yank,” my father mumbled under his breath.

  I stood up as Francis said, “I am her mother.”

  “I’m her aunt,” Jane said.

  “I am her sister,” said Bentley.

  “I am Trinity’s husband,” I confirmed without hesitation, not caring who knew.

  “Bloody hell,” my father groaned.

  “Come with me,” the doctor instructed.

  I turned to Francis. “I shall be back as soon as I know something.”

  “What did Ashton say?” my mother asked, looking befuddled. “Did he say he was Trinity’s husband?”

  “Yes,” Barrington replied. “Ashton and Trinity have been married for months.”

  “But…” Francis seemed to mumble.

  “It’s true,” Jane interjected. “Trinity married him, Francis.”

  I left them all to their muttering and followed the doctor down the hall. We stopped inside a tiny mint green room. The doctor pulled up a chair, offering it. “Please, take a seat,” he said. “I am Doctor Michaels.” He held out his hand.

  “Ashton Archer,” I said and shook the doctor’s hand.

  “Lord Archer?” the doctor asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I know of you by your donations to this hospital,” he explained. “We appreciate your help. Without it, this small hospital might not be in existence, and the people in this providence would be without medical care.”

  “I am glad to help, Doctor Michaels, but I must know about my wife.”

  “Yes,” the doctor agreed, taking a seat. “Your wife has suffered some smoke inhalation, exposure, some superficial cuts with bruising, a burn to the bottom of her right foot as well as what looks like a penetration to that foot, a nail maybe? She also suffered a bite to her neck, abrasions to her wrists and ankles, a broken rib and some bruising to her thighs. She is also dehydrated and had a gash that required a couple of staples to her head. She also has a concussion. I am sorry, Lord Archer; I would say your wife was assaulted. This being the case, we should call the authorities.”

  “The authorities have been involved. My wife was taken from my home Friday night by my brother. She was tied up, my brother…” I dropped my head. “My brother was the one w
ho hurt her. I was unable to stop him. The stables caught fire.” I saw the horrifying details of the night play out in my head.

  “Do you believe your brother may have raped her?” the doctor asked.

  “No. He did not get the chance. I thought I had lost my wife in the fire. I am sorry if I seem aloof or my thoughts scattered. It has been a very difficult twenty-four hours for me,” I admitted.

  Doctor Michaels smiled sympathetically. “I understand, to have your wife taken.”

  “Yes.”

  “I have your wife on some IV fluids for the dehydration as well as some antibiotics to stave off any infections. I have given her a tetanus shot due to the penetration to her foot. I have also placed her on two liters of oxygen. I want to monitor her lungs since she suffered smoke inhalation. I have also given her some medication for pain. We ran a blood panel and a pregnancy test, but she declined the rape kit. Her blood work looks good, her vital signs are stable, and she’s not pregnant. The physical prognosis is good, Lord Archer, so the good news is, if things go well, I would expect Trinity to only be here a couple of days. However, I would be concerned about the lingering effects of being abducted and assaulted. Psychologically, I mean.”

  “Is she awake?” I asked.

  “Yes, but she is very scared and confused.”

  “I need to see her. She has a fear of hospitals. She survived a trauma as a child and has suffered greatly from that trauma.”

  “She is asking to see someone named Jacqueline,” the doctor replied.

  A stabbing pain hit me directly within my already aching heart.

  “Very well, then she shall see Jacqueline,” I replied.

  “My nurses are moving Trinity into room fourteen. If Jacqueline is here then she can see Trinity,” the doctor said.

  “Thank you. I appreciate everything you have done, Doctor Michaels.”

  “It’s my job, Lord Archer,” the doctor said. He stood and shook my hand once more. “Trauma can be a stifling experience. Be patient with your wife. She will require that.”