Taking Faith (6 page)

Amy hadn't expected that reaction. He was
n’t
angry, he was amused. She realized it was Roger's job to be angry. She wasn't that other man's problem, now
was she? She glanced at Roger
and saw that he
was
angry, but also trying to convey some message with hi
s gaze. His eyes burned into hers
, pleading for her cooperation. She looked away. This small rebellion could be her only defiance.

The men sat and the other woman sat after them. Amy saw the woman had not
only set the table, but made lemonade
as well. There were four glasses of it iced on the table neatly in front of their plates. So thorough, that woman, Amy sneered to herself.

She sat and sighed inside herself. There was no grace or waiting or anything else. The men dug in. "Is there some bread in the oven or something?" the man asked.

She shook her head 'no' without looking up at anyone. The man chuckled. "Wow, Rog. You've got yourself a little handful, don't
ya
?
A pretty little handful.
"

"I guess so," Roger said slowly. "We're still figuring things out, aren't we, Amy?" he said harder.

She nodded again without looking at them.

"Figuring things out," the man mused. "I remember those days." He looked at his wife almost lovingly and winked at her. She stared blandly at him and began eating again. His chuckle was beginning to grate on Amy's sanity. It seemed to echo through her min
d even after he stopped. "It
gets so much easier once they break. It's almost like a…flipped switch. You just have to get them to that point."

"
Mmhhmm
," Roger mumbled around his bite of food.

"Your father's hard on you, I know. He's probably the hardest man in the community, but he just wants what's best for you." Roger scoffed, causing the man to smile. "I know, but you're not a father yet. You don't know what it's like to worry about your children. You and all the others will carry this community once we're gone. Don't you see? We not only have you to worry about, but also our legacy. Can you imagine what our lives would be like if the community fell apart?"

Amy had had enough. Her fork went flying across the table, knocking over the salt.

Every other fork stopped moving and they waited. Amy waited for something to happen, but it didn't. She just
sat and they all stared at her…N
o. They were staring at Roger. It was Roger's jaw moving back and forth and his fist clenched on the table that made her realize…they were waiting on him to discipline her. She regretted letting her temper get the best of her now. She understood what he'd been saying before.

He'd have to do something to do her for this or the man in front of her would report Roger to his father and then who knew what would happen. It all washed over her like a flood gate. It was as if her brain was just now waking up and processing what he'd said. She really regretted throwing that fork.

He scooted his chair back slowly and
laid his napkin carefully over his plate. He took her by the arm and lifted her from it to guide her down the hall. She could feel herself shake, her mouth open in a silent plea to him to give her one more chance to be the good girl he wanted.

He pushed her into the bedroom and followed her, slamming the door behind him. She jumped and looked at him. He seemed wild in a way she hadn't seen before. He gripped her arms gently and pressed her back to the door. He moved into her space and nuzzled his nose against her cheek. She stilled in confusion.

"Amy," he sighed her name and whispered the rest. "Why? Why? Are you trying to see if I'll actually hit you or not?

She shook her head. "No. I'm sorry. He was just talking about-"

He banged his fist on the door behind her head, making her squeak. "I know what he was talking about." He moved forward once more and pressed his lips to her ear. "Scream, Amy."

She shook her head harder, not understanding. He sighed again and started to unbuckle his belt. She felt her mouth drop open and she begged. "No, please."

He kept his eyes on hers. "Louder. Scream."

"Stop!" she said loudly, but not loudly enough. "What do you want from me?"

"To obey me!" he yelled into her face and slid his belt from the loops. He lifted it above his head and she ducked down to the floor begging him ardently.

"Stop! Stop! Don't!" she heard herself yell. He beat on the door a couple more times with his fist and then the belt landed across the wall. Again. Again. Again. She flinched with each crack of the leather. She looked up at him with the fear pouring out of her.

He was breathing hard, but not from exertion. He stared down at her and then offered her his hand. She took it, but only because she felt she had to and she was so confused she couldn't think otherwise.

He took
her to the bed and sat her gently
on it. He squatted in front of her and took her face in his
rough
hands.
He wiped her tears away and pressed his forehead to hers. "For the love
of God, Amy,
don't come out until I tell you to."

She sighed and sagged with relief. He was…tricking them? Trying to make them think he'd beat her. Oh, God, she thought and prayed. Why would he do that?

He lifted and hesitated for just a second before laying his lips to her forehead
in a barely-there kiss
. Then he left, the belt dragging the floor in his fingertips.

She lay back on the bed and pulled her knees up to her chest. She heard the voices out in the
house for a while afterwards, but she just stayed and stared at the wall. She barely blinked. Her eyes hurt from not closing them for so long, but she needed to keep them open. She needed to make absolute certain that this was real.

About an hour or so later she heard the door open. She didn't look that way for fear of what was coming, but it was Roger. He knelt right next to her head
that was lying on the edge of the bed and laid his head next to hers, but not too close. He seemed exhausted
in more ways than one
, the rings under his eyes dark and telling. He hadn't been sleeping, she'd know
n
that.

"I'm sorry
,"
was all h
is anguished voice
said before closing his eyes.

She didn't reply.

She knew he wasn't comfortable, half on the bed half on the floor like that, but she wasn't about to invite him in the bed with her. Not that she was in it. She
hadn't slept
in
the bed under his covers since she'd gotten there. Always rebelliously on top.

She knew he was sorry, it was written all over his worn face. But did that make up for it? Did that make everything that had happened all right? She didn't think so, but she did feel sorry for him. She hated to see people struggle and this man…this monster was struggling with himself.

Most of all, she hated that she was feeling anything for him. The monster was making it very hard to hate him.

~ ~ ~

The morning light streamed in and lit her gorgeous face. Roger stared at her from his point where his head was beside hers…kind of. He was afraid she was going to throw a fit when he came in last night and knelt down, but he just had to be with her in any way that he could. He'd thought fast last night, but if Amy didn't at least start trying to make an effort, he wouldn't be able to protect them forever. They'd place her with someone else if he wasn't deemed fit to be her husband. And the man they
would place
her with would gladly be the man that they wanted him to be for the chance to get a wife. Roger closed his eyes
at that
, but opened the
m
up again quickly. This was the only time he had to look at his wife, in the mornings when she slept so peacefully. At night while she tried to fall asleep, she was restless and anguished, but in t
he morning…it was as if she was
waking up and expecting this all to be a bad dream. Until her eyes opened she was a peace
ful little
oval faced girl whose
world was normal and
brightly lit. When he
r
eyes opened, she realized the hell she was in. He hated that he was the cause of such change in her. If he could find a way for her to
be
happy somehow…he'd risk just about anything, but it was impossible.

He was a monster and she was just the princess locked in his tower.

~ ~ ~

Amy stretched and leaned, but stopped quickly when she remembered that she'd let the monster sleep next to her. Well, not really, but kind of. She didn't want to run into him with her arm, but when she opened her eyes, she was alone and grateful for it. She needed to take a step back and rethink things. It was obvious to her that Roger was trying, for reasons not clear, to keep her safe to some extent.
She needed to put forth some of her own effort if she wanted to stay alive. Smothering herself in the pillow and never waking up just wasn't an option anymore. It was the strangest thing.

It felt like Amy had been asleep for days and was finally awake.

She lifted from the bed and inched her way to the door. She smelled coffee and…bacon? She made her way down the hall through the dining and living room to the kitchen door. He was dressed for the day in jeans
and his work shirt once more. He was sipping his coffee and staring out the window
in a way that told her he
was long gone somewhere.

She decided today she would be bold. "Hi," she said and he jolted so hard, he spilled his coffee all over the counter. "Oh, I'm sorry."

She jerked the hand tow
el from the oven handle and ran
to clean it up. He held his arms wide sporting a big spill on his shirt, too. "It's all right," he said and laughed a little. "I can't believe I did that."

"You were pretty gone," she mused and finished the job. She turned to him and saw the spot on his shirt. She wasn't touching that spot, uhuh. She turned away and went to get some coffee. He pulled his shirt off on the way out the door and returned quickly with a new one already on.

She sipped her black coffee and couldn’t help but grimace. He laughed, the smile sitting on his face. "There isn't exactly any chick food here is there?"

She glanced over at the three slices of bacon on the counter on a plate and back to him. No, there was definitely not chick food here. He seemed to understand her glance and nodded. "Store, today. We'll get you some clothes, some of the food you like, shampoo, whatever."

"You can do that?" she asked softly.

"You're my wife," he said wryly. "It's my job to clothe you, right?"

"In a chauvinist world, I guess that would be true," she answered back and sipped more coffee. His eyes laughed at her over the hand he had placed over his mouth. He was in a much better mood today. She wondered why?

"Regardless, I think it's time I got you some clothes.
"

She nodded, looking down at his sweats she was still wearing. Yes, new clothes, like now.

She showered once more and put on more of his sweats, charcoal this time. They went into the office and he showed her how to answer the phones and take orders. She wrote whatever the person said they wanted along with their name and number on an order form. It was pretty simple, but the thing she hated was being stuck to his side literally all day. She wasn't allowed to be left in the office, dirty as it was, so she had to sit in the shop with him once again as he worked.

It was hot, so Amy wasn't surprised when he took his shirt off again, but it still made her uncomfortable. After a repeat of the same work day they went home,
or so she thought. She'd forgotten about the shopping trip he promised. It was her first trip into a public place and she tried not to stare, but it was awfully hard. The women were nothing but shells of their former selves in this place;
zombies, numb, lifeless. So this was what Amy had to look forward to.

And she had almost forgotten that with Roger's happy attitude this morning and his protective spirit. But that didn't mean her life would
be any different that these wome
n. She felt the little spurt of light that had begun to grow
with
in herself die out into nothing.

She followed him around the store as he picked up some things he needed. Then he began to ask her questions about shampoo and soap. She just said the first thing that came to her mind to get him to stop asking her questions. "Strawberry."

"You like strawberry shampoo?" he asked and she nodded. He picked her
out some and put it in the cart
. The clothing department was massive…for men. There was a ton of work clothes and jeans for t
he men, but the woman's section
was bleak and small. Even the store had no inclination to offer the woman more than they thought they deserved. He asked her size and picked out one of everything that fit her. They wer
e all things she would never have
worn in her own life, but this wasn't her life anymor
e
,
now was it…