by Todd, E. L.
Sydney stomped on his shoe and he winced in pain. She tried to get away but he wouldn’t let her.
“Hit her! Teach this bitch a lesson!”
Johnny held up the bat, ready to strike.
The door burst open again as Coen smashed it to pieces with his large size. The look on his face was indescribable. His eyes were bigger than Sydney had ever seen them. The look of murder on his face showed everything he intended to do to them. Every muscle was flexed, every tendon was sprung.
Johnny swung the bat at Coen, but Coen grabbed it and broke it in half with his bare hands. Johnny stepped back, frightened. Coen grabbed both pieces and slammed them against either side of his head. Johnny immediately dropped to the floor, completely out.
Coen rushed Dan next. He punched him in the face then hit him in the neck, making him lose his breath for a moment. Sydney felt his hold loosen so she pulled away. Coen grabbed her and shoved her behind him. She fell to the ground out of harm’s way.
Coen grabbed him by the neck and slammed his face into his knee. Sydney moved further away, afraid of Coen’s bloodlust. Coen yelled as he slammed Dan’s body to the floor. The wooden floorboards shuttered with the amount of force that collided against the foundation. Dan tried to roll away, but Coen grabbed him by the neck, squeezing his windpipe as he dragged him across the floor.
“Nobody touches my wife like that.” His eyes were wide with rage. He squeezed his throat.
“I’m sorry,” Dan said, his voice coming out as a whisper.
Coen slammed his head against the ground.
Sydney covered her face, shocked by the violence Coen showed.
“What the fuck did you say to me?” Coen snapped.
Dan was barely holding on to consciousness. “I—I’m sorry.”
Coen spit on him then punched him in the sternum, making him gasp in pain. “This is the moment when you die.”
“Please don’t kill me!” Dan started sobbing. “Please don’t.”
Coen slammed his head again. “Shut the fuck up!” He grabbed his hair and dragged him across the floor. The blood smeared everywhere.
“Coen, don’t,” Sydney said.
He looked at her. “The reason why you and I fit together so well is because you have compassion, love, empathy, and forgiveness. I have none of these things.”
“Coen, please don’t do this.”
“Please,” Dan sobbed. “Don’t kill me.”
“Nobody fucks with me wife and gets away with it.”
“What about Johnny?” Sydney said.
“You think I give a shit?”
“Coen, if you love me, you won’t do it.”
Coen glared at her, the rage still burning.
“Please,” she whispered.
Coen slammed his head against the ground again, knocking him unconscious.
Sydney covered her face.
Coen rushed to her then grabbed her. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, unable to speak.
Without preamble, he pulled her clothes away, searching for injuries.
“They didn’t hurt me.”
Coen ignored her. He checked her everywhere. When he got to her head, he saw where her hair had been pulled. His stared at it then returned his look to her face. “You’re safe. I’m here.”
“I know.”
He wrapped his arms around her and held her to his chest. He pulled out his phone and called the police.
Sydney sobbed into his chest, finally admitting how scared she was.
When Coen finished the call, he hung up. “We can still kill him.”
“No,” she said.
“I’ll do it. You don’t have to.”
“No,” she whispered.
He sighed in annoyance.
“I love you so much, Coen.”
“I love you, baby.”
“I was so scared.”
“It’s over now.” He ran his fingers through her hair.
When the police came, they examined the scene and took Dan and Johnny to the hospital. They questioned Sydney and Coen, and they relayed the truth in its entirety. Coen didn’t release his hold on her, supporting her the entire time.
After everything was said and done, the police left the shack.
Sydney was still in shock about the attack.
Coen sat beside her on the couch. He was still in survival mode. His eyes were constantly moving and his muscles were still flexed for battle. The cloud of darkness still hung over him. Sydney could feel his need for bloodshed. “Why didn’t you call me?” he said calmly.
“I couldn’t find my phone,” she answered.
He glanced down. “It’s in your pocket.”
She immediately reached down and felt it, feeling stupid.
“We miss a lot of details when we feel threatened,” Coen said.
She leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry about all of this.”
“I told you to never say that again,” he snapped.
“Sorry…”
“Why didn’t you let me kill them?” he asked. “I shouldn’t have fucking listened to you. I should have just done it.” He slammed his fist in his chest, the anger escaping his every breath.
“Have you ever killed anyone before?” she whispered.
He looked at her. “No.”
“I would never want that hanging over your head.”
“Believe me. I wouldn’t have felt any remorse.”
“You say that now.”
He turned away. “Did they hurt you?”
“I already said no.”
“I’m just making sure.”
She ran her hand up and down his arm. “What happened with my mom?”
“I checked her into the hotel. I told her she can either take the job or be homeless. I don’t care what she chooses.”
Sydney nodded.
“Were they looking for her?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did they attack you?”
“Because they knew you weren’t there.”
He clenched his fists again.
She grabbed his hand. “Everything worked out. We’re okay. You can calm down.”
He pulled his hand away. “When I walked through the door, you were being held in place while Johnny prepared to take a swing at you. No, we aren’t okay. I’ll never be okay. That image will haunt me until the day I die. I’m not going to fucking calm down.”
Sydney sighed. “It’s over.”
“It’ll never be over as long as they’re alive.”
“They won’t come back, Coen.”
“Why won’t they?”
“They are scared of you. You don’t know how you look when you get like that.”
“Like what?”
“When you go on a psychotic rampage.”
“My wife was almost beaten,” he said. “Of course I’m going to snap.”
Sydney knew nothing she said would calm him down. He was too angry, too upset to be pragmatic. She rubbed her fingers into his back, massaging the muscle. She was silent as she attended to him, hoping her touch would diminish the anger he had.
He suddenly stood up and marched to the front door.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“I’m just too fucking pissed to be around you right now.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“I know you didn’t,” he said. “I hate myself for not killing him.” He slammed the door shut.
16
Coen was still withdrawn for the following days. Sydney didn’t push him to open up. She gave him the space he clearly needed. They slept together every night, but they never made love. He was quiet at lunch and silent in the evenings. Sydney was starting to get worried. He usually got over things within a day or two.
They didn’t tell anyone what happened. It was something they silently agreed on. It would just worry everyone. Sydney’s mom stayed at the hotel and started working as a room cleaner. She called Sydney a few times, but Sydn
ey didn’t answer it. Coen ignored the call before Sydney could even grab the phone.
Their friends noticed the aggressive tone to their relationship but no one commented on it. Nancy asked how Sydney’s mother was doing, and Sydney always made up a story. Coen made it clear she could never talk to her mother again, which was fine with her. She wanted nothing to do with her.
Since Coen was so distant, she spent more time in the lab than she normally did. She stayed late and worked on their project, making sure they were always ahead of schedule. Since her husband was so angry, she felt better being somewhere else. Whatever issues he had, he needed to work on them by himself.
When she came home that night, Coen was sitting in the living room. All the lights were out.
She stopped and stared at him. “You are really starting to scare me.”
He stood up and approached her. “I’m sorry.”
“What’s going on with you? You’ve been this way for a week.”
He sighed. “I—I feel like I failed you.”
She stared at him incredulously. “Where is this coming from?”
“I didn’t protect you.”
She shook her head. “That isn’t how I remember it.”
“You don’t get it,” he snapped.
“Then explain it to me.”
“I should have killed him, both of them.”
She ran her fingers through her hair. “I didn’t want you to. I would never want you to.”
“But it doesn’t matter what you want. I should have done what’s best for you.”
“I wouldn’t want to be married to a murderer.”
“I’d be doing the world a favor.”
She grabbed him by the shoulders. “You did the right thing, Coen. Please stop beating yourself up for it. That couldn’t have gone any other way. And they’ll be in jail soon.”
“Not for long,” Coen said. “I’m sure they’ll get out.”
“So what? They won’t bother us anymore.”
“There’s no guarantee,” he said. “We need to move.”
She glared at him. “I’m not leaving this house—ever. This is my home.”
“I have to protect you.”
“Coen, no. I’m not running from him, living in fear. He won’t bother us again. Dan knows you could kill him if you really wanted to.”
Coen looked away.
“Please drop it,” she begged. “Please. I want my husband back. I haven’t seen him all week.”
“You’re right,” he said quietly.
She cupped his face and kissed him gently. “Now be happy with me.”
“I am happy.”
She pressed her face close to his. “Then let’s move on.”
“Okay.”
“I love you, Coen.”
“And I you.”
“Now make love to me.”
He smiled. “You get right down to business.”
“I’ve been horny for days.”
“I haven’t been a very good husband.”
She gave him a serious look. “You’ve been the best husband ever.” She grabbed his hand and dragged him to the bedroom.
After they made love, they lied together in silence.
Coen cuddled next to her, being more affectionate than he had all week. His lips trailed down her skin, planting light kisses everywhere. She lied back and enjoyed it. Her phone rang on the nightstand but she didn’t reach for it. Coen kept kissing her. It rang again and Sydney sighed. She glanced at the screen.
“Don’t answer that,” Coen snapped.
Her mother’s name was on the screen.
Sydney didn’t touch it.
She called again.
“It must be important,” Sydney said.
“You think I care?”
Sydney answered it. “Hello?”
Her mother was crying. “Dan…”
“What happened?” Sydney asked.
“He—he died.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“He had a heart attack this morning.”
Sydney didn’t know what to say. “Oh.”
She sniffed into the phone. “It’s just so sudden.”
“But isn’t this a good thing?”
“My husband died! Of course it isn’t a good thing.” She continued to cry on the phone.
Sydney couldn’t empathize with her. After Dan and Johnny tried to beat her, her mother shouldn’t care that Dan was dead. She should be happy, not mournful. That’s when Sydney realized that she didn’t have a mother. She never had a mother. The only one she had was Vivian, Coen’s mom. And that’s all she ever needed. “Denise, don’t ever call me again.” She hung up and returned the phone to the nightstand.
“What was that about?”
“Dan died.”
“How?” he asked.
“Heart attack.”
“Fuck yeah!” he said happily. “I hope the piece of shit burns in hell.”
“I knew you didn’t have to kill him,” Sydney said.
“And why did you call her Denise?”
“Because she isn’t my mom,” Sydney said simply. “She was crying about his death even though he tried to hurt me. What kind of person does that?”
Coen stared at her with a sympathetic look.
“She was never my mother. The only person I’ve ever had is yours. And I’m happy with that.”
“She loves you very much.”
Sydney nodded. “I’ve felt more love from them in this short amount of time than I’ve felt my whole life.”
“Because you deserve to be loved—by the right people.”
“I’ve finally let it go.”
He smiled. “I can tell.”
She hugged him tightly. “You are my family.”
“I’m your seahorse,” he whispered. “And we’ll make our own family someday.”
“Well, everyone already thinks I’m pregnant,” she said with a laugh.
“It’s just wishful thinking.”
“When do you want to have them?” she asked.
He leaned down and kissed her stomach. “When we have money.”
She laughed. “We’ll never have money, especially as researchers.”
“We better start growing our own food, then,” he said with a laugh.
“I want to have the first one in a couple of years.”
He kissed her forehead. “Whatever you want.”
“And I want to have a boy and a girl.”
“And another girl,” he said.
“You want three?”
He nodded.
“Just like your parents?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, we need to keep practicing.”
“I do need to work on a few things,” he said as he rubbed his nose against hers.
“I beg to differ.”
17
“What are your plans for spring break?” Henry asked.
Sydney picked at her fruit. “Nothing. Coen and I will probably just be lying around the house.”
“You mean, you’ll be having sex all week,” Ren said with a smile.
“We do that anyway,” Sydney said.
“We take our sex lives very seriously,” Coen said.
“You always have to be on top of your game,” Henry said.
“Literally,” Coen said with a laugh.
Sydney sighed. “I wish we were doing something fun.”
“Let’s go hiking,” Coen said.
“That does sound adventurous,” Sydney said.
“We can sleep on the mountain,” Coen said.
“No,” she said. “I like sleeping in a bed too much.”
He smiled. “And we can do other things too.”
“Yeah,” she said.
They finished their classes for the rest of the day then went home to shack. Sydney was relieved to have a week off. She was getting sick of homework, lab reports, and waking up early for school. It would be nice to lay around with Coen.
&n
bsp; Ever since Dan passed away, Coen had been in a much better mood. He acted like he was on a very potent strain of Prozac. Sydney didn’t mind his delight. And she didn’t care that her stepfather was dead. It was a blessing to her. Her mom was obviously upset, but Sydney decided to let it go and forget about it.
Coen came home a few hours later.
“How was work?” she asked.
“It was good. Casey is still diligent in her training.”
“Jeremy hasn’t bothered her?”
“Nope,” he said.
“That’s good.”
“What do you want to do tonight?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she said with a sigh. “We can watch a movie and order a pizza.”
“That’s funny you said that.” He opened his backpack and handed her a DVD.
“You got The Count of Monte Cristo?” she asked happily.
“I saw it on sale and I know it’s your favorite movie.”
“Thank you,” she said with a smile. She tore off the plastic and opened it. An envelope fell out. “What’s this?”
He shrugged. “Open it.”
Sydney eyed him suspiciously before he opened the fold. She stared at it for a long time. “Australia?”
He sat down beside her and took her hand. “I know it’s your greatest dream to see the Great Barrier Reef.”
She covered her face and dropped the envelope. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
He smiled, happy to see the delight on her face. “No. I’m taking you on a real honeymoon. We would have gone before but I hadn’t saved enough money at the same time.”
Tears were in her eyes. “Oh my god.”
“And I didn’t need to buy a wedding ring so I really don’t have an excuse.”
She wiped her eyes and jumped into his arms. “I can’t believe this.”
“I’d do anything for you, baby. Just seeing that smile makes it all worth it.”
“I’ve wanted to go since I was a little girl.”
“I know,” he said. “You’ve told me many times.”
“You have no idea how much this means to me.”
“But I do.” He rubbed his nose against hers.
“I just can’t believe this is really happening. I need to pack!” She jumped off his lap then ran into the bedroom.
He laughed then followed her, watching her shove everything into suitcases.
“When are we leaving?”
“Tomorrow,” he answered.
“I need to move fast,” she said. “Does everyone know?”
