by Susanne Beck
His face flushed red. "Bullshit. You bunch of man-hating dykes kidnapped her like you always do, twisting her mind against me, filling her head with all kinds of shit until she finally gets wise and comes back to me. Now give me what I came for or I’ll burn this place down and all you fucking dyke bitches with it."
"I can’t give you what you don’t own. Go home."
"The fuck I will." Spitting once again, he turned and gestured to his buddies, who were staring at him through the dusty windows of their trucks. "Let’s just go the fuck around. We’ll be in and out before they know what hit em."
This is it.
Straightening, I pulled away from Nia’s death-grip on me and instead took her hand. "C’mon."
"What? Where?"
"We’re going to stop this. Now. Before anyone gets hurt."
Her eyes were wide as saucers as she stared up at me. "We who?"
"Just c’mon," I replied, turning and half-pulling her along behind me.
"Where the hell are you going?" Pony hissed, reaching out to grab me as I strode by.
Ignoring her, I kept on walking, determined to halt this fiasco in its tracks. As if sensing my mood, both horses tossed their heads a little and backed away, leaving me a clear path ahead. I stepped forward, taking Nia along for the ride, until the sun shone warm upon my face. Then I stopped and watched as Richard’s body froze, half in and half out of his truck.
After staring at us for a long moment, a cruel grin twisted his lips and he slowly pulled out of the car, straightening and crossing his arms over his chest. "About damn time. I knew you dykes didn’t have the balls to pull this off. Come on, woman. Get your ass in the car now."
It nearly broke my heart to see Nia cringe before this maggot in the guise of a man. Her pulse was fast and thready beneath the touch of my fingers and her body trembled in fright.
Richard’s cocky sneer turned quickly into a scowl. "You mind what I say, Nia. Get in the car. Now."
"Maybe she’s afraid you’ll beat the crap out of her again," Cowgirl observed from atop her horse.
"Shut your trap, bitch, before I shut it for you!"
"I’d like to see you try it," Cowgirl replied, smirking.
Obviously shaking off the temptation, he looked back at his wife. "Don’t make me come after you, Nia. Your ass is already in enough hot water as it is, making me come all the way down here. Don’t make it worse on yourself." His voice was almost soft, his words almost kind, but the false compassion didn’t even come close to reaching his eyes.
Taking in a deep breath, Nia straightened somewhat and pulled away from me. I nearly panicked, until I heard a word sounding suspiciously like "no" come from her mouth.
Apparently, Richard heard the same thing, because both his arms and his jaw dropped as his eyes widened. "What?!?"
"I said no, Richard. I’m sorry you came all this way for nothing, but I’ve changed my mind."
Disbelieving, I turned and watch as her lips moved. Yes, she was the one saying the words, in a voice that sounded very much like hers, but with something—fortitude, perhaps? desperation? doom?— delivered a subtle change to the tone of her voice; a subtle, but undeniable force to the words she was giving voice to.
Across the clearing, Richard made as if to clean out his ears. His neck stuck out—rather like a turkey’s I thought—as he tried again to stare her down. "I better not have heard what I think I just heard, bitch."
"I’m not coming back to you, Richard. Not now. Not ever. I’m... really sorry I called you, but... just go now. Please? It’s over."
His face went white, then quickly flushed to a deep red before settling, finally, for a truly impressive purple shade. "It’s over when I say it’s over, you fucking cunt!"
Fists clenched in fury, he closed the gap between us in long strides, coming so close so quickly that I didn’t even have time to get scared. Instead, I found myself watching as he shot out an arm as if to grab Nia by the throat and choke the life out of her.
In a completely reflexive motion, my own arm darted out and stopped his fist dead in its tracks. As if in slow motion, his head turned in my direction, his expression one of patent disbelief that someone—a woman no less—could actually be doing this to him.
My muscles strained against his rage-fueled strength, but the knowledge of what he’d do if I let go made my task, if not easy, at least bearable.
"You better let go of my hand, bitch, before I rip your fucking head off."
Before I could answer, steely fingers bit into my shoulder and I was wrenched away from the scene and into Pony’s somewhat prepared arms.
"You like beating on women, big man?" Rio’s voice roared out. "Why don’t you pick on someone who can fight back, huh?"
Struggling out of Pony’s tight grip, I looked over to see Nia being hugged tight by another Amazon whose name I didn’t know. Quickly, I turned back to the scene unfolding before me.
"Come on, ya cheap little prick," Rio taunted. "Hit me. I dare ya."
Obviously stunned at the sudden change in game plan, Richard’s only answer was to blink stupidly at her.
"Coward," she spat. "What’s a matter, little man? Your balls crawled up inside your asshole, did they?" She said this last as a loud aside, deliberately turning her head toward the rest of us and living him an opening big enough to drive a tractor trailer through.
I almost shouted a warning as he gathered himself and launched at her, but she turned in more than enough time, stopping his advance with a hook to the face that flattened his nose and sent him stumbling backwards several steps, blood spewing from between the fingers now covering his broken face.
That action, apparently, got his friends’ attentions, because the clearing was then filled with the sounds of truck doors opening as seven men stepped out into the light of the day, their expressions murderous.
That sound, however, was quickly overtaken by the music of a dozen Amazons exploding from the trees, their rifles cocked, ready, and aimed at the idiots who thought to help their unfortunate "friend".
"Show’s over, boys," Montana drawled. "Get back in your trucks before the coyotes eat what’s left of you after we’re through with target practice."
If the situation hadn’t been so serious, I would have laughed as the men slipped meekly back into their trucks almost as a single unit, all the testosterone suddenly gone from their puffed up little bodies.
"Well, well, well," Rio remarked conversationally as the last of the men was safely tucked away inside his truck, "looks like your buddies have about as much guts as you do, wife beater. Maybe next time, you’ll pick your friends a little better, huh?" Her laugh was loud in the otherwise silent clearing. "C’mon, prick. Lay one on me like you do your wife. Or ain’t ya got the sack for it anymore."
I watched as her muscles rippled like mercury beneath the heavy denim of her workshirt as her body prepared itself to react in whatever way she demanded. Unlike the last time I’d seen her fight, Ice’s teachings were plain to see in the loose, limber set of her body and the alert cock of her head. "Whatcha waiting for, big man? An engraved invitation? You like hitting women, right? Well, I’m a woman. So hit me!"
With a roar of rage, he came at her, fists swinging furiously. They grappled for a few moments before Richard got in a lucky shot to Rio’s head. His smirk was short-lived, however, as a thunderous right to the gut blasted the air from his lungs and doubled him over, the remains of his breakfast littering the ground between his feet.
"Had enough yet, pussy?" Rio taunted. "Or would ya like to go another round?"
After several long moments, he finally straightened, blood still pouring from his nose like water from a spigot. "Last chance, Nia!" he shouted, to the disbelief of us all. "Get in the damn car, woman!"
No one was more surprised than I was when Nia actually pulled away from her rescuer’s embrace and slowly walked toward her ailing husband. She stopped less than two feet away, and reached out an arm as if to touch him. At the last mi
nute, she lowered it and looked at him instead. "I’m sorry, Richard. I really am."
"Not half as sorry as you’re gonna be, I can tell you that. Now get your ass in the car. Move!"
She slowly shook her head. "No. Never again. You’re not gonna hurt me ever again."
His smile was evil and dark. "That’s what you think."
Whatever he might have thought to do next was interrupted abruptly as a knee came up between his legs and robbed all the fight from his body. Gibbering high in his throat, his hands cupped his injured groin as his legs gave out and dumped him onto the hard desert ground.
"That was for calling me a bitch, you bastard."
Her knee came up again, this time landing against the side of his face and landing him on his back. "And that was for every time you made fun of me and yelled at me and made me feel worthless."
The leg lashed out, again and again, and again, raining blows against his unprotected body as she screamed out every sin he’d committed against her person.
I felt myself move, but Rio beat me to the punch, and in two quick strides, managed to wrap the enraged woman tight against her massive body, pulling her quickly away from the writhing body of her husband as Nia continued to scream her hatred out into the desert.
Two other Amazons came forward and half-dragged, half-carried Richard over to the lead truck, opening the passenger door and shoving his mostly unconscious body inside.
Not more than a split-second passed before the trucks started up and pulled away in a shower of dust and sand.
A huge cheer went up through the clearing, the women shaking their rifles and shouting their triumph for a job well done.
"It’s not over yet, you know," Pony said from her place next to me. "He’ll be back. Not tomorrow, maybe, but soon. We might have won this battle, but the war isn’t even close to being over."
"I know," I agreed. "But at least Nia knows what it’s like to stand up for herself. That’s a pretty important battle to win."
Grinning, she clapped me on the shoulder. "That it is, my friend. That it is."
PART 5
WERE I A novelist, I would entitle this chapter "The Blooming of Nia". Since I’m not, however, I’ll settle for saying that after her confrontation with her husband, a new Nia stood upon the ashes of the old, rather like a phoenix rising up from the flames.
Of course, not all the changes were good ones, but that was to be expected, I suppose. Having married quite young, Nia had lost the best of her teenage years as she suffered beneath the oppressive and dangerous weight that was her husband.
And when that weight was finally lifted, that’s exactly what she became.
A teenager.
The woman who would meekly carry out any task asked of her had suddenly developed an unbendable will, especially when it came to being asked to do things she didn’t particularly care for. And that was a very long list, indeed.
Her favorite expression was fast becoming "you don’t own me, so stop telling me what to do."
Which was, in a way, understandable, given all she’d been through in her young life. It didn’t make putting up with her sudden attitude any easier though, except, perhaps, for Montana, who treated Nia the same way she treated everyone else: with patient compassion and total honesty.
Nia also developed somewhat of a crush on Rio, much to Rio’s acute embarrassment (though truth to tell, the rest of us were quite amused). She followed her around like an overgrown puppy, asking—and at times begging—Rio to teach her how to fight, offering to do chores she otherwise would avoid like the plague, and generally ensuring that Rio walked around looking like she’d just suffered a severe sunburn to the face.
"Please tell me I wasn’t ever like that," I observed one morning as Rio tried unsuccessfully to shoo her unneeded helper away for the third time in as many minutes.
"Never," Critter said from her place next to me on the couch.
"Thank god," Pony chimed in. "I don’t think we ever would have survived it."
"Well, they do make a cute couple," Corinne added, her smirk quite pronounced.
Hearing the remark, Rio turned to us with an expression that was half murderous intent, half heartfelt plea.
Taking pity on this mercurial, moody and sometimes violent woman who I was, nonetheless, coming to see as a friend, I levered myself up from my space on the couch and walked over to Nia, touching her arm briefly. "C’mon. Remember I promised to help teach you how to ride today?"
She turned to look at me as if realizing for the first time that I was even in the room. "Oh. Yeah." was her less than enthusiastic reply. "Can we do that another time? Rio’s gonna..."
"The only thing Rio’s gonna be doing is helping me with the security schedules," Pony interjected, coming to stand beside me. When Nia’s face lit up at the prospect, Pony scowled. "Boring stuff. Really... really um..."
"Boring," Critter finished, nodding. "A yawn a minute. Puts me right out every time."
"I don’t know about that," came a sweet voice from the couch. "I always found them to be particularly..."
Four identical glares convinced Corinne to temporarily shelve that line of thought, and with a slightly wicked grin, she absented herself from the rest of the conversation altogether, to our great relief.
"So, what do you say, Nia? It’s a beautiful day outside. How about if we go on a nice trail ride, and by the time you get back, Rio should be finished with her job."
She looked over at Rio, who nodded vigorously.
"Alright. I guess that’s ok, then."
Grinning in triumph, I looped my arm inside Nia’s and drew her away from her newest obsession, leaving three profoundly relieved Amazons behind.
* * *
The next several days passed in like fashion, with Rio becoming very proficient at the game of hide and seek. If her body hadn’t been so large, I would have half-expected to see her stuffed into one of the cabinets under the sink in the bathroom, that being the only place she could have even a modicum of privacy. At least until Nia thought of asking to attend to her there as well.
Christmas was fast approaching, and the prospect of spending it without Ice by my side turned a fairly stable mood into a downright depressed and surly one. Rather than biting the hands that fed and sheltered me, I decided that solitude was the best course of action, at least until I could come up with something better to assuage my depression.
Cleo and I became fast friends. I rode her daily, sometimes from dawn till dusk, taking in all of the treasures that the Arizona desert had to offer. Being out there in the wild without another human being around for miles gave me a strange, but welcomed sense of peace. It was there that I felt free to drop my mask of geniality and scream and rant and rave at the injustices which kept me apart from the other half of my soul.
Oh, I yelled at Ice as well, damning her for that selfless nobility which called her to put my life and my happiness before her own and wound up causing both of us to suffer for it. Even jail seemed a better place than where I found myself, and after three years of freedom, I actually began to look at my time in the Bog with a sense of happiness rather than the dread I was used to feeling.
That scared me, I’ll be the first to admit, but I was truly at a loss as to what to do about it. Speaking to my friends, even to Corinne, about it was out of the question. They each had burdens of their own, and I wasn’t about to add to them by forcing them to accompany me on this journey of self pity I found myself on.
One day, as I was walking back from the stables after an early morning ride, I chanced to see Nia slipping into one of the community cars parked in front of the main house. She must have seen me through the rearview mirror, because as I passed, she reached out the open window and snagged the sleeve of my shirt, turning me to face her. "Hey, Angel! I’m blowin’ this one donkey town for a little while. You wanna come with me?"
"Where?" I asked as I disengaged myself from her rather manic clasp.
Her grin lit up her whole fac
e. "Mexico. I’m in the mood to party!"
I looked at her. "Mexico? As in..."
"You know," she replied, rolling her eyes, "that place south of the border where everyone speaks Spanish and they serve a mean tequila? Whadda ya say, huh? I was gonna go alone, but you look like you could use a little good cheer yourself."
"I... ah... don’t think getting drunk is a really good idea for me right now."
After looking at me for a moment longer, she shrugged and started the engine. "Suit yourself. I’m outta here."
"No! Wait!" I knew I couldn’t just let her go. Not into a land of strangers whose language she didn’t even speak. At least I assumed she didn’t speak it. Not that it mattered, really. Newly borne independence was one thing. Foolhardiness was another thing entirely.
Her eyes narrowed. "What now."
"Why Mexico? Isn’t there someplace around here that..."
"Are you kidding? Look around, Angel. This place is dead. There’s nothing around here for miles. I’m bored and I want some action. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’m outta here."
"Wait! Please! I. . .um..." I scratched the back of my neck, trying to think quickly. "Why not? Sounds like fun. It might do me some good to get out of here for awhile. You know, see new sights, stuff like that. Just wait here till I... get my wallet."
Her suspicion was evident as she stared at me for a long beat before finally blinking and nodding, not without some reluctance, I thought. "Alright. Just hurry up. You’re not back in five minutes and I’m leaving without you."
"Great! Thanks!" Grinning, I jumped away from the car and took off for the house at a dead run. "Be right back!!"
Running full speed into the house, I managed a full-bore collision with Rio, who was getting ready to come outside. Normally, running into Rio would have been akin to running into a brick wall, but with momentum behind me, I managed to accidentally tackle her, sending us both back into the sunken living room where we flipped over the back of the couch and landed, in a tangled heap, on the floor.
