by Brent, Cora
Kira seemed to take special offense to his words. She leapt to her feet and shouted at him. “Fuck you, Teague!”
He smiled nastily. “You volunteering, angel?”
“Enough!”
The man who shouted was sitting in an overstuffed chair by the door. With so many people gawking over me I hadn’t seen him there before. I sure saw him when he stood up though.
He was tall, almost frighteningly muscular, and peered at me with the most piercing set of blue eyes I had ever seen. And from the way everyone in the room sat up a little straighter at the sound of his voice I gathered he was the one in charge.
Kira sidled over to him, snaking an arm around his waist and gazing up into his eyes. He suddenly grabbed her head, his fingers winding through her long blonde hair, and ran a broad thumb over her lips. Then, just as suddenly, he dropped his arm and looked around.
“Gray,” he finally said softly. “You brought her here. What was the plan?”
Grayson Mercado had been apparently been quietly standing on the far side of the room the entire time. He seemed to think through his words with care before speaking to the leader. “I guess I didn’t have one, Orion. But no man worth a shit would have put her back in the claws of that sick fuck.”
Orion seemed to chew on that. He nodded at my cousin. “Rachel? You want to talk?”
Rachel’s head dropped and the dark waves of her hair fell around her face. “Casper knows all of this. But the rest of you won’t. Promise is my first cousin. Her father and my father are brothers. And they are also influential members of the polygamous religious sect known as the Faithful Last Disciples and Saints. Their church is more sinister than most polygamous communities. We were both born in the town of Jericho Valley which probably sounds familiar as it’s in the news a lot, and not for any good reasons.” She swallowed painfully and Casper drew an arm around her protectively. “You might have heard me talk about running away from home at age seventeen. I ran away because my father was forcing me to marry a sixty year old man who already had five wives. It’s what they do there.” She raised her head and looked at everyone in the room one by one and repeated herself. “It’s what they do there.”
I heard a weak groan come out of my throat. “Jenny,” I whispered.
Rachel’s luminous brown eyes grew wide and then filled with tears. “No,” she said, shaking her head and clenching her hands in her lap.
Orion digested this information. He didn’t seem the sort who would be easily stirred by anyone’s sob story, especially when it might lead to trouble. But when he looked at Kira his face changed. The rugged lines softened and his eyes grew gentle. I got the feeling he was inclined to toss me out with a shrug, but something about his relationship with Kira made him reconsider.
“All right,” he said quietly. “I don’t know what the fuck to make of these Faithless Disciples or whatever the hell they’re called. Sounds like a crackpot bunch who need their nuts reordered.” He looked directly at me. “But the girl can stay.”
Rachel exhaled with relief and Casper nodded gratefully at Orion. Kira stood on tiptoe and kissed Orion full on the mouth, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“You big teddy bear,” she teased.
He spread his hands over her backside in full view of everyone and moved her against his body. “I’ll show you how big,” he answered.
Brandon wandered back into the room carrying a handful of blackened discs. “What’s this?” he asked while chewing on a few of them, crumbs falling from his mouth into his beard.
“It’s chicken goddamn parmesan,” Casper said wearily. “Can’t you fucking tell?”
Rachel’s eyes were still grief-stricken. She tried to smile for me. “Come on,” she said, taking my arm and trying to pull me up, “let’s get you cleaned up.”
“See?” Teague muttered in the background. “Fucking halfway house.”
I tried to sit up but the adrenaline which had carried me earlier was gone and there was only agony. Grayson knelt by my side, and tried to gently help me to my feet. As I stood I caught sight of my left hand. The thin gold ring was still around the fourth finger. With a spasm of rage I tore it off and threw it across the room. I could hear the hysterical sobs in my throat. It wasn’t enough that I had disposed of the ring. I looked down at the light pink calico of my hand sewn dress and was filled with unutterable loathing. Everything awful and oppressive about Winston Allred’s world was wrapped up in that dress. How foolish I had been to believe I could change a thing.
“Hey,” Grayson said with alarm as I started to tear at the fabric. But he couldn’t stop me. I heard screaming and knew that I was the one screaming. I saw shocked faces and knew that they were stunned by what I was doing. But when I finally clawed the fabric away from my body the shock turned to something else.
Rachel let out a cry of despair and fell to the floor. Kira winced and pushed her face into Orion’s broad shoulder. Brandon let a wad of chewed cookies fall from his mouth. Even Teague paused and seemed vaguely sorrowful at the sight of my bruised and mottled body. I didn’t care. I wadded up the dress and threw it with all my might. I wanted to set fire to it. I wanted to kill someone.
It was Grayson who grabbed a blanket from the sofa and wrapped it around me. He tried to hold me still but when his hand went around my back I screamed louder from the pain in my ribs. Grayson closed the blanket around me gently and pulled my head to his shoulder.
“Hush,” he said, his voice rough and pained, “no one’s gonna hurt you. Not while I’m here. I promise. I promise.”
And as my gasps of hysteria gradually slowed, I realized I believed him.
Chapter Eight
Rachel tried valiantly to keep the distress from her face as she helped me wash. Orion’s house was the only one with a full tub so on Rachel’s instructions Kira ran a warm bath with no suds.
Before the bathroom door closed I heard Grayson ushering the men outside and silently thanked him.
I flinched as I lowered myself into the tepid water. And there, in the ivory porcelain tub, I took a good long look at my own body for the first time in days.
My pale breasts were riddled with angry bruises and on my upper right arm was the unmistakable mark of a furious hand. I didn’t remember when that had happened, but then the sum of the last few days were rather melted together inside my mind as a haze of misery. I wondered if I would sort it out later but then decided I didn’t want to.
My legs bore the lashes of Winston’s belt and I still couldn’t draw a smooth breath due to the torture in my ribs. The raw, broken place between my legs had receded into a vague soreness but it caused me more grief than everything else combined. When I closed my eyes I saw Winston’s disgusting face as he grunted and hammered away inside my body. So I stared without blinking into the tub as Rachel spilled water over my shoulders.
“I think at least one of my ribs is broken,” I finally said.
She frowned. “Where?”
I pointed to the place on my back which pierced with pain when grazed even lightly. Rachel looked at the area but didn’t touch it.
“Promise, I think you’re going to need a doctor.”
I shook my head. “No.”
Rachel’s gentle hand smoothed my hair back. “Sweetheart, you’re bad hurt.”
Of course I knew she was right. My coursework and clinics at Hale College of Midwifery had included more than just obstetrics. Winston may have inflicted internal damage. A jagged rib bone could cause organ perforation.
But I couldn’t bear the thought of letting any man examine my body right then. I told her as much and she dropped the washcloth she was holding and stared off at the wall, as if she didn’t want me to see her face. Finally she turned back to me and tried to smile.
“Would you see a female doctor?”
I considered. “I think so. Yes.”
“Good. I have a friend who lives up in Parker. I’ll caller her. I’m sure she’ll see you right away.” She rose and
found a towel underneath the sink.
I sank down into the water. I wasn’t quite ready to get up yet. “Rachel? You think I could sit here a few more minutes?”
“Of course, hon.” She opened up the door and called Kira’s name before turning back to me. “Okay if Kira comes in and sits with you while I make the phone call?”
“Fine.” I tried to smile. “I’m not going to drown myself though.”
“That wasn’t even in my head. It’s just you’re none too steady and might need some help.”
My cousin poked her head out the door and murmured to Kira.
“Rachel?” I called.
She ducked back inside the door.
A tear rolled down my cheek. I knew there would be more to come later. “I wish I had listened to you the first time.” I felt like I needed to explain. “I knew better, I knew there were other ways to live. It’s just, I thought I could make things easier. Or maybe that wasn’t it at all,” I continued grimly. “Maybe I just didn’t have any courage.”
Rachel sank beside the tub and kissed my forehead. “You have the courage of ten women,” she said and then left the room as Kira shyly entered.
She sat down on the closed toilet lid, nodding toward the door. “She’s a doll.”
“Rachel?”
Kira nodded and pushed her golden hair behind her ears. “I can’t even tell you how much she helped sort me out when I got here.”
“How long have you lived with Orion?”
She smiled and blushed. “Three months. Seems like I don’t remember how to live without him though.” Then she turned her eyes to me and they filled with pity. “Shit, whatever that fucker did to you, I hope gets done to him tenfold.”
I pursed my lips. “Not likely.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Well I think if Grayson could get his hands around the guy’s neck there wouldn’t be much left. You’re lucky you ran into him. Good guy. Got out of prison last year but don’t let that bother you. Orion told me he didn’t even do whatever they put him away for. Until a few weeks ago he was with this crazy bitch. Talia. But when he wouldn’t worship her the way she wanted she started pushing up on Brandon, thinking he was a softer target. That’s all she’s after; the ‘old lady’ status and the security she thinks come with it.” Kira shook her head. “But you don’t play fucking games with these guys, pitting them against each other. Gray tossed her out like the old laundry that she is.”
I had absolutely no idea what Kira was talking about so I just nodded agreeably as she prattled on.
She noticed I was trying to rise out of the tub. “Here,” she said, holding out a towel. As I wrapped it around me she squeezed water out my long hair. “I can comb this out for you,” she said softly.
I nodded with thanks. Kira, who had never met me until a few hours ago, was outraged on my behalf over the things which had been done to me. Grayson had been willing to stand up to a strange man and commit violence if necessary in order to protect me, an unknown girl in a fast food restaurant. And what of my own flesh and blood? My parents, along with the extensive net of brothers and sisters and uncles and cousins back in Jericho Valley who all bought into the Faithful teachings, would not have done or said a thing.
Rachel walked in carrying a blue sundress. “We have a standing appointment as soon as we can get there.” She handed me the dress.
Kira laughed. “She had to dress me first day I got here too, remember, Rach?”
Rachel gave her an affectionate hug and then pushed her out of the bathroom. Once the door was closed she carefully eased the dress over my body. I held the thick chuck of sodden auburn hair in my hand. Even when dry my hair reached nearly to my waist. The Faithful women were ordered not to cut their hair after the onset of menses. Then they were permitted to trim three inches off for every child born to them.
“Rachel? Do you have a pair of scissors?”
***
Rachel’s friend greeted us warmly when we arrived at her office in Parker, a small town which lay sleepily beside the Colorado River.
Dr. Callie Lopez waved off the receptionist when she tried to get our information and instead led us directly to the exam room while I clutched Rachel’s hand. Callie insisted I call her by her first name as she asked me careful questions and listened keenly to my answers. She didn’t look like the doctors I’d met in Salt Lake City; her hair was shorter than that of most men and a blue teardrop was tattooed beneath the left eye on her flawless light brown skin.
After a series of x-ray’s and a gentle examination of my injuries, she quietly asked me to lay down on the cot. The coarse paper crackled under my back as I did what she asked, spreading my legs for the next examination. A nurse walked in and Callie murmured something about a rape kit.
“Rape?” I choked. “No, it wasn’t rape. He was my husband.” But even as I said it I understood how wrong I was.
Callie looked at me with such kindness I wanted to cry. “If he forced you, Promise, it was rape. His identity doesn’t matter.”
Rape. I was raped. I am a rape victim.
Something I never wanted to think of myself as. I turned to the wall, closed my eyes and really did cry.
Callie diagnosed me with cracked ribs, multiple contusions and some internal lacerations. She taped the affected ribs and instructed me on how to perform daily breathing exercises to avoid possible pneumonia. Then she frowned and consulted her notes.
“Your periods are regular, approximately every 28 days?”
“Yes.” A feeling of cold dread spread from my gut.
She nodded and glanced at the calendar on the wall. “So your next menstrual cycle is due to begin a week from today. If you do not get your period then, I want you to take a pregnancy test.”
“And then what?” I whispered.
Callie patted my knee comfortingly. “Then we’ll go from there, sweet girl.”
After thanking Callie profusely, Rachel was very quiet. When we returned to her old car, I noticed her hands were slightly shaking. I understood this all had to be hard for her in some way; this ghost from the past arriving and reminding her of things she likely hated to remember.
“Rachel?” I asked her. When she looked at me I managed a smile. I wanted to get the stain of Winston’s brutality off me. I wanted to live. “I’m starving. You think we could find some dinner?”
Rachel Talbot grinned back. “I’m sure somewhere in this town there’s a steak with my name on it.”
Rachel warmed back into her usual talkative self once we were seated in a garish orange booth in a Parker restaurant. She told colorful stories about the years since she’d left Jericho Valley. For a while she’d been living in Phoenix, earning money via the beauty pageant circuit and even winning a state title. When that ran dry, she decided to hit the road and try her luck in Los Angeles. And then her car broke down in Quartzsite and changed everything.
I pulled down the hem of my short dress, feeling self-conscious about the bruises on my legs. “Was it love at first sight?” I asked. I wanted to hear that sometimes things started well and turned out happily.
“Not exactly,” she laughed. “I thought Casper Weitz was one glib, sarcastic son of a bitch and wouldn’t admit that he got under my skin, not even when we would casually sweat up the sheets. But I knew from the get go that he was the goddamn best I ever had.” Suddenly her face pinched and she withdrew.
“Dammit,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry, Promise. I shouldn’t be talking to you about this shit after everything you’ve been through.”
“No, don’t say that,” I shook my head, noticing how much freer I felt without the draperies of thick hair holding me down. Rachel had cut it short enough so that it fell to an end only two inches past my shoulders. “I mean, the way you talk about it, it’s sort of foreign to me…” My voice trailed away as, unbidden, the horror of being touched, beaten, violated, came rushing back.
Rachel’s eyes were tearful as she took my hand. “It won’t always be that way,
hon,” she said.
I couldn’t answer. I only hoped she was right.
The waiter brought our food and I was surprised by the intensity of my appetite. When I thought about it, it seemed I had not eaten normally for weeks as I awaited the dreaded day of my marriage. Even though the food was simple and greasy, I savored the taste of it like nothing else in my memory.
Rachel started to tell me about the men of Defiant in between bites of her well done steak. I interrupted her.
“So what is Defianct?”
She cocked her head. “Oh yeah, I forgot you wouldn’t know. Okay, Defianct is a motorcycle club, a brotherhood. These guys, they would do anything for each other. It’s a bond that goes deeper than friendship. It’s a family.”
When I had finished every last bite on my plate I thought of something. “Grayson?”
“Grayson,” she smiled. “Yeah, he was a little rough around the edges when he first got here but that attitude came from six years spent in a cage. He might be the best of the lot after Casper. Gray saved my man’s life once, you know. It was before I even came to Quartzsite. They were locked up together in Picacho, a prison, and became friendly. Cas was doing a year for grand theft auto and parole violation. Anyway, he got on the wrong side of some brute who thought he was top of the food chain. And he had a lot of minions to do his dirty work. All I know is Grayson intervened even though he knew an incident would cost him his parole.”
I took a drink of water. “So I guess he’s in the habit of being a savior.”
“Yeah,” Rachel nodded, “Good thing too.”
“Yes, good thing” I agreed, shifting my weight over the plastic upholstery. My ribs had felt immediately better once Callie had taped them, but I still had the sense that I was one giant bruise. I wondered how I would be faring at this moment if Grayson Mercado had walked right past me this morning and decided I was not his problem.
I remembered what Callie had said about my period. The thought that Winston might have left me with some more consequences to deal with made me shut my eyes in anguish.
