The Artist [h.s.]

ten

Carter sat cowered against the bathtub, the tiles cold against her butt and her legs, her knees pulled to her chest and her head resting atop her trembling knees.

Each breath she took resulted in a sob and her chest heaved at the effort, but she just couldn't stop. Jacob had not only hit her, but he had done what nobody should ever have to go through.

She didn't want to think about it, but that's all she could think about. The scar on her side burned and only further reminded her of his harsh grip and forced actions.

He'd left her alone after he'd had his way with her and she had dressed quickly and locked herself in the bathroom.

Her phone was clutched tightly in her hand and, after a good number of minutes spent wallowing in her sorrow, she turned it in her hands and unlocked the screen with shaky fingers.

7:45.

Carter tried to calm herself down, but it only seemed to make things worse.

Jacob was throwing things around out in the living room, he was probably drunk now, and she hoped that he would continue demolishing things as long as it meant that he would leave her alone.

She hadn't even realized that she was calling Harry until his voice came through the speaker, faintly because she didn't actually have him on speaker for fear that Jacob would hear and take his anger out on her again.

"Carter?"

She couldn't stop crying enough to answer him and he freaked out immediately, "Carter! Sweetheart, what's wrong? What happened?"

Carter forced the words through trembling lips, "H-he h-hit me and then he-he..."

He didn't answer right away and she knew that he was livid and heartbroken all at once, "I'm coming over now. Where are you in the apartment?"

Another sob took hold of her entire body, "The b-bathroom."

"Stay right there, sweetie. I'll be there soon. I'm so sorry."

"P-please hurry."

She hung up because it had gotten quiet and she was afraid that Jacob would be listening at the door. Carter held her breath, her lungs suffering from the strain and her heart pounding furiously against her ribcage.

It was too quiet and she was terrified that he would break down the door if he had heard her talking to Harry.

Torturous minutes passed before Jacob resumed smashing things and yelling profanities at her.

Carter hummed to a lullaby Harry had taught her one night, closing her eyes and focusing on the words because she couldn't seem to make her body calm down.

She was still shaking and sobbing when Harry showed up five minutes later.

. . .

Harry practically kicked open the door, his fists balled tightly at his sides and his jaw taught.

Jacob happened to be pretty close to the door and Harry immediately swung at him, his fist connecting hard with his jaw and sending him into the glass coffee table in the middle of the room.

Glass shattered and Jacob hit the floor hard.

"How dare you put your hands on her like that, you son of a bitch!?"

Jacob laughed as he stood up, he winced and pulled some glass from his hands, "You must be Harry."

"You're damn right I am. Where is she?"

Carter had heard them from the bathroom and ran out as soon as he asked where she was, her arms wrapping around him tightly and her tears wetting his t-shirt.