The Family Origin

Chapter Two: MAISIE POV

 The thick clouds of cigar smoke always made it difficult to breathe in the tavern. Five men were at the bar and in deep conversation as they drank. I sighed as I recognized each of them. I hoped someone other than the Thursday night regulars would be here tonight, but this tavern rarely attracted any new people.

I chewed on my lip as I watched them laugh. Their deep voices boomed through the small bar. They got louder the more they drank. My eyes locked on Albert as the bartender refilled his glass. He was always incapable of counting his money when drunk. I hated it initially because he never paid, but I quickly learned how to manipulate him into paying me double. His beer belly and missing teeth were disgusting, so I deserved to at least make more money.

I took a few steps forward to flirt with Albert when someone snatched my arm. My heart pounded, and I gasped. I tried to yank myself free, but the grip tightened into a crushing hold.

Amos was sitting at a table alone. A sickening smirk was on his lips. My stomach twisted, and I struggled to swallow past the lump forming in my throat. How did I not notice him before? He was usually at the bar with the others. Why was he sitting by himself? What were his plans?

"Maisie." The way he said my name always caused my skin to crawl. "You're late."

He was waiting for me? I barely recovered from our last encounter. Dark bruises were scattered across my thighs for over a week. He did not pay me enough for what I had to endure. He never did.

"Sit down," he said, lifting his chin to gesture to the empty chair across the table.

I let out a shaky breath and followed his command. It was easier to act compliant. He would have no issue dragging me out of this bar, and none of these men would say anything. I sat on the edge of the seat but kept my chin high. Amos enjoyed feasting on my fear, and I refused to let it happen.

"I wasn't going to stay long," I said.

"Where are you rushing to?" he asked. "It's not like your grandmother is waiting up late for you anymore."

It was a struggle not to scowl. Amos knew mentioning my grandmother's name would make me upset. I wanted to pick up his glass and smash it in his face, but I kept my composure.

"Did Lillian ever know?" he asked. My teeth gritted because he was now mentioning her name. "Did she know you whore yourself out? She would be so disappointed."

"You never complained," I said.

Amos chuckled. He ran his hand along his jaw. His dark beard was sprinkled with grey. The strong stench of bourbon was on his breath. His eyes were focused on my chest as he licked his lips. How did his wife stand being around him?

"You're a funny girl, Maisie," he said.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"You know what I want."

The disgusting taste of bile was rising in the back of my throat. He drained the rest of his drink before slamming the empty glass on the table. He stood, but I remained in my seat.

"Get up," he said.

"No," I said.

Amos scowled. His brows furrowed and formed creases across his face. My hands were trembling, but I kept my chin held high. He could not see me be weak and crumble.

"Maisie," he said. "Get up."

"No, thank you," I said.

I forced a smile. It pushed Amos too far, and he grabbed my arm. I stumbled as he pulled me out of the chair. My fighting against his grip was useless, but I did not stop trying to pull away. I dug my heels into the floor, but he dragged me toward the door. My heart was pounding so hard that I thought it would beat out of my chest. I looked over my shoulder to see Albert watching us, but he did not try to save me.

No one was outside. He dragged me behind the tavern, and we were surrounded by darkness. If I started screaming, no one would hear or care. Amos grabbed my other arm and threw me against the tavern. He pinned me to the wall and trapped me in with his large body.

"Let go of me," I said.

I twisted my body in an attempt to get out of his hold. His grip was so tight that I was surprised my bones did not shatter. Amos chuckled as his eyes scanned down my body. How much could he see in the darkness?

"Get off me," I said. My attempt at appearing brave had failed when my voice cracked.

Amos forced me down onto my knees. He let go of one of my arms and reached for his belt. I sucked in a deep breath because I knew what he was going to do. It would not be the first time. The sound of unbuckling caused fear to course through my veins.

I balled up my fist and swung with all of my strength. Despite the darkness, I managed to hit Amos in the crotch. My knuckles hit his hard length, and I shuddered. Amos screamed in pain. His grip loosened on my arm, and I pulled away. I scrambled to get on my feet to run.

Amos let out a string of curse words. I did not look over my shoulder to see if he followed me as I ran. Amos could easily outrun me, and I had to get to the inn where I could lock the door. Amos could never remember my room number, and Mrs. Stratford agreed never to give my room number to men.

The dress made it difficult to run, but I did not stop. My muscles were screaming out in pain, and my lungs burned when the inn came into sight. Amos's swearing did not follow me, but I could not take the chance. My hands fumbled with my key as I unlocked the door. The tension did not leave my muscles until I could lock the door. I was panting as I tried to catch my breath. The curtains blocked the window, so I could not see if Amos was near.

How strong was the lock? A man has never tried to break into the room before. I pushed the desk across the room and used it to barricade the door. Amos would not be strong enough to force his way in. It would be loud if he tried, and Mr. Stratford would threaten him with the gun he carried everywhere.

I pulled out the pins and ran my fingers through my hair. If I lit the oil lamp, it would signal that I was inside. I moved around the room in the darkness as I changed out of my dress. The thin mattress became a safe haven as I curled on my side. My focus was on the second bed in the room. It was less than three months ago when my grandmother died in that bed.

What would she think of all this?

I was trapped in this hell, and I had no clue how to escape.