Zorie
For the rest of the day, to my relief, I was left alone, apart from the stares and laughter.
Afterward, I was told to go to one of the empty bedrooms on the second floor, alone. Disobeying was unthinkable by then. Exhausted and sunburned, I went there. I showered in the little en-suite bathroom, and I dressed in the only clothes I had – the little barely there dress. Then I lay down, and found myself shivering as if in shock.
No one had taken photos, had they? If any of this got out I’d be sacked. University lecturers were expected to behave with decorum.
A tree branch filled with yellow-white, fluffy blossoms distracted me. Tap-tapping in a subtle breeze against the window glass. It was cool in here. The sheets were fresh. The walls were decorated with discreet erotic scenes in red and black. My eyelids drifted lower.
Decorum. Shoving a gun up my vagina and orgasming before a crowd was not that.
Rocked by the sound of the trees outside, I sank into sleep.
Reuben kept me there for days, never seeing me at all. Only Madoc came in with food. It was a blessing. Being ignored let me gather my thoughts and reason.
If he married me, I couldn’t stop him, could I? No.
Damn that.
Were Grimm or Mister Black aware of where I was being kept? If so, what were they doing?
Mister B would be doing nothing. He’d said as much.
Grimm though? He’d not break in here to free me. The man wasn’t on the wrong side of the law, or not yet. He’d seemed almost willing to do bad things to get me free of Reuben. He also wanted to keep his involvement secret.
The flashbacks of what had happened on the rooftop came at the oddest times. The usual cushioning of my emotions seemed less than before. I...felt the bad things I’d done and they shriveled my soul, more and more each day.
How could I have?
I was made to. It wasn’t me. My heart ached, constantly. I was made to. Whenever the memories of what I’d done returned, I curled up in a ball, with my hands clutching my head, until it went away. I’d betrayed myself.
I was allowed my mobile phone, once a day, to answer calls, and even to speak to others. The temptation to contact Grimm was always there but, with Madoc hovering, I couldn’t begin to try. Not that I was certain I could do it anyway. Reuben had broken me, more than a little, that day on the rooftop.
I should practice resisting.
I should.
There was nothing to do except think, and stare at the wall, or out the window.
On the third day I gave in to the demon inside me that had been daily upping the ante on the screams of do something.
I would try, again, but no more guns. Next time he might leave the bullets in. I might’ve killed myself, and who on that rooftop would’ve blamed anyone but me?
Without writing materials, I could only practice writing with water on the window sill. After several aborted attempts, I began. I managed to write what might be a whole opus on the evilness of Reuben. It evaporated and blurred and swam into puddles as I wrote with my wet finger.
When I was done, I couldn’t even convince myself that it meant anything. Writing in water? My brain knew it was dumb as hell. Blood would show more. I wasn’t ready for that, cutting myself just to get ink.
On the fourth day, Dirke came to me with a small white dress – a flirtatious, backless one with a tiny, chiffon, satin, and lace skirt that would just brush my knees.
“Your wedding dress.” He dropped it on the bed. “Put it on and be ready in ten minutes.”
This was to be a real wedding? I stared at the cute little frothy dress.
They drove to a small nearby park with a fountain and a line of monstrous trees that dwarfed the picnic tables. Breathless and feeling as if I stood at the edge of some cliff with a nameless drop to infinity just one step from my toes, I waited.
Reuben took my hand and smiled at all the right times, said all the right words when the marriage celebrant wanted him to. I had to be prompted.
“To have and to hold...”
“For better or for worse...”
“I do,” came from a throat that wasn’t mine, and yet I said it. The words were black confetti flung on the wind.
The ring fitted my finger, perfectly. Love was engraved on the band in swirly writing. I signed the document shown to me, right where Reuben put his finger.
Reuben kissed me and there were photos done by a professional photographer who had us stand this way and that before shaking our hands and wandering off to his vehicle.
It was over. I looked at the children playing nearby and at the celebrant as he walked away, leaving me with him.
Reuben tightened his hold on my entwined fingers until it hurt.
“Come, sweet bride, we have a lifetime to live together.”
Fuck you was all that ran around in my head, all the way back. The smallest of small rebellions but I kept it going. It was all I had.
Once back at the house, I signed more papers, sure they held some dreadful information but unable to read them.
At midnight, two days later, Reuben had me brought to him. He would set me free in the streets, naked except for my underwear and with my car keys in hand.
“It’s a half mile away through the streets.” Madoc showed me on a map.
Already, I could tell. I could see through this. Reuben would never do this. Not simply free. The man would want his piece of flesh, of blood.
I asked a question, not to beg, no. I wanted to delay whatever was coming.
“Why? You married me.”
“For your money, dear slut. Only that. You’re too unpredictable for me and I’m tired of you. One last thing before you go. Kneel.”
I kneeled on the hallway rug and blinked up at him and the grinning Madoc and Dirke. They stood behind Reuben and seemed sure of what would come next. Dirke made a mock gun with finger and thumb, pointed it at me and pretended to shoot. Bang, he mouthed.
By then I was sweating despite the air-conditioned house.
“Listen carefully, Zorie.” Reuben bent and took my chin in his hand. “You’re very, very sad. You want to die. Hear me?”
A knife sliced through my heart at his words.
My ears sang but I nodded.
“Then go do it. Think sad thoughts. You’re worth nothing. Your life is hopeless. Go away and tomorrow or the next day, kill yourself somewhere public. Okay?”
I nodded again.
“Go.”
Then I stood and I walked out the front door into the black night. My legs wobbled but...my heart still beat.
I shut my eyes, standing on the cold grass of his front yard in white bra and panties. Crickets greeted me. The keys tinkled in my hand.
Don’t do this, said my inner demon. Fucking don’t. He lies. He lies. You know he does.
He did. Yet I knew disobeying was impossible.
Walking all the way to my car, I’d be lucky not to get assaulted and raped.