Authors: Arden Aoide
Maybe
he shouldn't have let her pass out.
Jude
had to be resuscitated. He'd nearly died. The resuscitation didn't work on
Grace and James had fully expected it to.
He
missed her sometimes. And fucking the help was very unsatisfactory. He had to
be more careful with them. When he slipped, they never returned.
He
settled on Anna. Breaking her was a quiet affair. On days that Jared and Jude
were out of the house, she'd spend every moment in the bathroom vomiting.
Probably in fear, though James had no intention of killing her. He knew to be
more careful.
Still,
she took a cocktail of pain killers, cough medicine, and Texas Single Malt
Whiskey, his finest bottle.
He
didn't really understand it. But, he assumed she was ill.
He
hoped Shula wasn't ill, though he did worry because of her mother's suicide.
He'd have to be careful and take it slow. At dinner earlier in the week, she
seemed perfectly polite and unmoved at the contract change, so James was
optimistic.
But
he would mold her to his specifications. It had been awhile, but he would use
the same technique as he used for Grace. Gifts and compliments first. Slow,
improprietous touches outside of the marriage bed. Then spankings for nominal
transgressions.
Though
he was aching to show her everything he was capable of tonight.
But
she wouldn't live to see the morning. The thought amused him, but he needed to
be practical. He wasn't getting any younger. It was an unpleasant thought,
aging, but he would need a caretaker. And not just the hired help. If she could
survive where Grace and Anna couldn't, then he'd say she deserved the job.
James
decided that he wanted to be married again, and not just to spite his son.
Her father didn't
look at her once on the way to the church. Nor did he speak. It wasn't until
they pulled up to the front of the chapel that she realized that she'd held out
a small stupid hope that they would run.
The
least he could fucking do was tell her she looked pretty in her mama's dress.
Shula
realized that this was the last time she would speak to him willingly, and she
didn't owe him any respect. She didn't know what the ramifications of
disrespecting him outright would be, but it couldn't be worse than what the day
would hold.
She
walked slowly up to the church door, solid, dark, and foreboding, yet the paint
of the rest of the small building was peeling, but what remained was a blinding
and angelic white. Humble, yet proud in its disrepair. Rebelling with its
stripped paint, fighting futilely with the claws of demons. Until they were let
in the front door.
Shula
looked up at the weather worn steeple with its rusted bell, waiting for it to
introduce the hour. She heard the death toll before she saw the movement. She
took a deep breath.
“What
did Mama know?”
Her
father stumbled, but caught himself. He spoke low and quick. “Your mother was
ill.”
She'd
expected a lie, but not that one specifically. “Mama was trying to protect me.
She expected you to protect me to. You didn't.”
He
grabbed her arm above her elbow and squeezed. “You don't know anything.”
She
wouldn't let him intimidate her. “So, tell me. What did Mama know?”
He
was silent for a moment. “You would want the same fate as her, if you knew.”
That
, she didn't expect. Maybe he
would feel guilt at her death. “So, instead of leaving with me, you've stayed
and signed a contract to wed me into a relationship that Mama died to prevent.
Well done, Father. I doubt she thought she needed to protect me from
you
.”
It was freeing to speak to him how she wanted. The floodgates were open.
He
gripped her arm harder, pulling her to the door. “I would take you over my knee
right now
if we were home, but that's someone else's job now.”
That
caused her to stumble a bit. Never once had her father ever punished her
mother. And Mama spoke to him however she wanted. She knew by the behavior of
other wives at church that her mother had been louder and more rebellious, but
Father had tolerated it without a word most days. She wondered if all wives
behaved like that, but demurred in public.
Shula
shuffled after him as he opened the door. He affected a smile, and led her in
with a loosened grip. Shula heard a door open and her father spoke quickly,
“We're ready.”
“Oh,
Edward! She is breathtaking. Exactly like Mary on your wedding day. I just know
she is smiling down on y'all from heaven right now!” Mrs. Lionel gushed. It
made Shula sick.
Heaven.
What an interesting thing to say.
“Indeed
she is, Mrs. Lionel. Indeed she is.”
Shula
was grateful he didn't continue talking or she might really throw up. She
waited until the chapel door shut again, leaving them in the stuffy foyer
before it was time to walk.
“I
don't ever want to see you again.” She knew she wouldn't, but he didn't know
that. He didn't acknowledge it, but he grabbed her hand to fit into the crook
of his elbow. She heard the organ start the ominous chords that would lead to
the end of everything. Her eyes filled with tears. “I
hate
you.”
“Yet
you love your mother and she left you on purpose,” he muttered spitefully.
Her
tears fell, but the veil covered her face completely. She didn't know that he
could still hurt her, but she wanted to forget all of this and end it in the
bathroom. Soon enough. Soon enough. Soon. “I will shame this family. I will be
disobedient. I will burn dinner. I will
not
allow him to bed me without
a fight. And none of my pregnancies will go to term–” She was desperate now.
She didn't want to die.
“Not
my problem,” he whispered harshly.
And
she was finally brave enough to ask. “Why do you hate me so?” She didn't expect
me to answer.
“Because
she's gone. And hating you is my only revenge for her leaving me.” He wasn't
going to apologize for it.
She
walked, defeated, next to her father even though she felt his betrayal keenly
still. She had held out hope that he would have put her in the car and drove
all the way to El Paso, and they would leave. But, he didn't.
It
seemed to take forever to get to the alter. Her head bowed, eyes on her feet,
and it seemed like the rows were multiplying. She could hear movement, sighs,
coughing, and mumbling, and she hadn't thought that she'd be doing this in
front of the entire village, though it was obvious. It simply hadn't occurred
to her. She wondered how he might punish her before her suicide, but he would
probably save it for later when he had her alone. He wouldn't have the
pleasure.
All
she could do now was savor the look on her new husband's face when he lifted
the veil. His horror would provide quite a measure of satisfaction. She smiled
grimly as her father handed her off to her would-be husband. Her new captor.
But, not for long.
Drip.
It was starkly black on her
antique white bodice and she looked down, captivated. The priest was speaking–
drip
–but
the black spot widened.
Drip.
She jerked her head upward, raining black
tears all over her front, to see if the monster in front of her noticed, and he
had. He didn't say a word, and as the priest spoke of holy matrimony, she
watched in detached satisfaction, as her betrothed raised her veil curiously.
She would treasure his look of outrage for a lifetime. The horror of the church
was an added bonus.
James
Agnesson couldn't believe the absolute
gall
of this girl. She looked as
if she'd cleaned a chimney, but instead of washing, hacked off her hair
instead. She was probably more insane than her mother was. As much as he
desired to break a woman, he wanted her at least halfway tamed by her daddy.
This girl might kill him in his sleep if he looked at her wrong. Edward Kelley
had dropped the ball on both women in his life. A dead wife and a feral child.
He
had to school his features and do his best to get out of this. And it was
Jared, smirking at him from the side entrance of the chapel, that solved all
his problems. Just a quick amendment to their contract.
Jared
thought he might properly be in love. She looked truly hideous, but she was the
most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Foolishly brave and gorgeously defiant.
He'd
never seen his father speechless before. And when his father looked up and met
his eyes, Jared knew exactly what was about to happen. His eyes widened, and he
shook his head rapidly, hoping that his father believed the lie.
“Would
you give us a moment, Reverend. There are some things I need to discuss with
Edward Kelley.” James used his most persuasive voice, though he knew by the
reaction of the church that they were mortified by Shula's behavior. “You stay
right here, Shula.” He spoke to her like she had been touched in the head.
Shula
was very confused. He wasn't angry at all. Was he going to force her back home
to her father? That wasn't an option she considered, though it was only a
slightly better outcome than dying.
She
didn't feel any relief. She kept her eyes trained on the floor until her father
came to retrieve her. She found that looking at the Reverend might make her
feel ashamed. Or maybe it was the not so quiet whispers speaking as if she were
ill.
Edward
followed James into side hall. He was absolutely mortified. It hadn't occurred
to him that she would do something like this. She'd always been easy, unlike
her mother. He was going to try to convince James, but James spoke first. “This
is unacceptable, Edward. You should have told me she was like this.” He held up
his hand to stall any excuses. “It's neither here, nor there, now. You have an
errant child and I have an errant child. Let's be rid of them.”
It
took a moment for Edward to understand what he was saying, and he had thought
the worst until he saw Jared standing behind James, not looking very pleased.
“Yes,
let's. I'm very sorry for her behavior. This has come completely out of the
blue. She is missing her mother horribly today–” Edward still wanted to
apologize uselessly.
“It's
done. Speak no more of it. Jared, congratulations on your impending nuptials.
Hope you have room for another in your tiny house.” His tone allowed no
argument, though he knew Jared could defy him.
Jared
took just enough time to look uncertain. He couldn't show his hand. It would
ruin everything.
“If
you do not Jared, she will wind up like Anna.” James murmured.
Jared
couldn't believe his father would say something like that in front of Shula's
father. “Fine. Alright.”
They
all walked back into the chapel. Edward, a little less mortified. James,
relieved. And Jared, happier than he'd been in quite some time.
Shula
saw the shoes before she saw the man. She didn't know if she was relieved or
not because this had only been half the plan. It wasn't until she heard James'
voice from further away that she raised her head. She assumed it was Jared,
though she barely recognized him. His face was somber, dark hair almost in his
blue eyes, and he was staring at her. He didn't look happy, but he didn't look
disgusted. “Reverend Thomas, I know this is a bit unorthodox, but I became much
more aware of my age today. I think young Shula would need a much more patient
hand. I think Jared is up to the challenge.”
“Of
course, James. We will start from the beginning.”
Shula
still couldn't look at the Reverend, but looking at Jared was proving just as
difficult. But, she couldn't be passive now. She'd made a statement, and she
would continue to make it. She would have to regroup later because she didn't
know what she planned to do. She had been ready to end it. There had not been
another option. She thought the option would still be there, but she was
confused. James had said that Jared had left, and that was as good as saying
that he didn't want her.
She
wanted answers, but she needed to think. This was a variable she wasn't
prepared for.
She
repeated her vows with difficulty, needing it repeated several times. Jared's
look had softened considerably, and sometimes when she looked at him, his eyes
seemed to be laughing at her. She felt the urge to apologize, and explain that
she didn't normally behave that way.
It
was ridiculous really; she'd behaved abominably thus far, why not continue?
But
she couldn't stop the relief spreading like wildfire through her gut. She felt
faint. Her finger was heavy with gold, and she shook as she put a ring on his.
She
scolded herself because now her future was even more uncertain. She didn't
think she could kill herself on a whim if things were bad.
Lost
in her thoughts, she didn't notice that she was a girl–
woman
–taken until
Jared stepped closer to her. He hesitated for a second before bending and
pressing his mouth to her. She felt like her body was plunged into the warmest
water. Sound became muted and slightly distorted. It was completely
exhilarating. She made an involuntary sound in her throat, and before she even
realized what happened, Jared withdrew and took a step back. She looked up at
him, dazed, but he was looking away in utter disinterest.
The
church was somber with a few sporadic applause, and Shula realized her
predicament. She just married a very handsome man, and she looked a wreck. It
must have been horribly embarrassing for him. Shula wasn't familiar with shame,
but she was feeling it now.
She
looked down trying to will away any tears that wanted to ruin her bodice
further.
A
hand wrapped around her wrist and swiped it gently with a thumb and it took an
effort not to look at him. She kept her face indifferent as well.
The
reception was done in the church basement. She'd forgotten all about it. Her
adrenaline still waning, she didn't know how she managed to be led done the
stairs. She began to shake.
It
was all still uncomfortably quiet. When she looked around the room filled with
tables and simple lit candles, she zeroed in on their seats. Luckily, Jared
took her to sit down as soon as he caught sight of the main table.
He
sat her down, and poured her weak wine from a pitcher. “You aren't well.” He
spoke quietly, facing her.
She
didn't know what to say. The shaking wouldn't subside. “I don't know.
I'm...uncertain how I should be feeling.” She glanced at him quickly. She
realized his hand was still around her wrist.
He
was taking her pulse.