Open Wounds | Captain Swan

29. Nevertheless, She Persisted

[I missed writing from someone's point of view and this chapter is kind of important so I decided to just try it, to see if I can still do it🙈 Oh and a warning for ya all: this chapter contains abuse.]

Emma's POV

Darkness was surrounding me. All I could do was pray, pray that my eyes would somehow adjust to the black hole of ignorance so I could begin to see turbid shapes and eventually make my way through the obscurity.

But nothing came. My eyes refused to provide me with a clear vision. And when I did think to see something my brain couldn't quite distinguish between reality and my imagination.

I heard indistinct talking, but I couldn't conclude what they were saying, let alone recognize any of the voices. The fact that it took a long time, too long, before the volume of the voices increased made me doubt they were real.

Before my mind even had the time to properly comprehend the situation and reflect on it I was already losing consciousness, barely having enough time to lay my hand on my belly, protectively.

Loud voices were the first thing I detected and registered. I almost forgot I had been abducted by my evil ex-stepbrother when I opened my eyes. I had been so sure it was Killian talking loudly with one of his mates downstairs, so sure it breached me even more when I realized I was still in lying on the bleak floor.

"Aha, our little poppet is awake."

No, it can't be, can it? I thought, turning my head into the direction of the voice, hoping my memory was wrong, that I was wrong.

The candle, which was the only thing that was delivered light to the room, was placed on a small wooden table. It wasn't enough to light up the entire room, but it was sufficient to confirm my suspicions. It was him.

"Shocking, isn't it?" He stood up, but I couldn't decide whether he was moving fast or slow. Everything seemed to be in slow-motion, but that could also be my brain tricking me again. "I bet you thought you'd seen the last of me, of our relationship."

"Do you honestly address to what we shared a relation-" He didn't even allow me to finish my sentence, just kicking me in my side. Well, my side was what he was aiming for. I managed to roll over just before his shoe collided with my skin, so he damaged my back instead of my baby. I wasn't entirely sure that was a good decision either, though because a sharp pain shot through my back and I could only draw one conclusion: he must've hit my kidney. All I could do now was pray the organ wasn't so injured that it could cause my baby harm.

"Oh, don't worry, poppet." He stared at my belly and it was only now that I realized my shirt was ripped open. I suddenly felt really uncomfortable under his filthy gaze. "I'm not here to hurt your baby."

"You know?" I asked, but deep down I knew I should've expected it.

"Of cou-"

"It was a rhetorical question..." I pointed out, fully aware of the fact that it was a bold thing to say in this situation. I'm not even entirely sure why I told him that, it only put my unborn child's life in danger.

He kicked me again, this time hitting my spine. I cried out in pain, but this time the blame wasn't completely on him, I blamed myself for it too. If I hadn't been so stupidly smart he might have considered to leave the beating out.

I felt like the pain wasn't going to go away. I refused to move, just keeping my back towards him, too terrified he would harm my baby. By now I had figured out my whole back must be bruised because it didn't matter where he stroked me, the same excruciating pain rushed through my nerves.

He didn't seem to care at all, though. He actually appeared to rather enjoy abusing me. I knew he was still holding back, I knew he wasn't hitting me with his full force.

With the tiny bit of strength my body possessed I managed to lift my head, my eyes looking straight into his. I could see it, the obsession. He was addicted to this, to abusing him. I know it should make me disgusted, but I couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

I had no idea what the amount of time was that had passed between his first kick and the last slap he gave me across my cheek. All I knew is that I couldn't move. It was the first thing I'd tried, knowing lying on my back was safer for the baby, but I just couldn't.

"Can you at least tell me how long I've been here?"

"A week, darling."

I didn't know what was the exact cause, but I suddenly felt like I had regained all my strength. It was a miracle, yes, but I managed to get on my feet. Maybe it was the adrenaline that hurtled through my veins, or perhaps it was because of Killian. He had spent the past week without me, probably wondering where I was, if I was okay. I needed to return to him as soon as possible.

He turned around when he heard me scrambling to my feet and before he had determined the situation further my fist had already collided with his cheekbone.

I think my fist probably hurt more than his face did, but knowing I had punched him was worth it. Every possible instinct that I had told me to get the hell out of there now that he was distracted by my actions, but it was as if I was glued to the floor. I couldn't move nor think straight.

I'm not sure whether it was my ego that made me frozen or anxiety, but I know that I will never forgive myself for not running away.

He raised his hand, everything seemed to be in slow-motion for me, every movement he made I could barely apprehend and before I was completely aware of what was happening I was already thrown to the floor by him.

Killian's POV

I couldn't bear to look anyone in the eye as an officer guided me through the courtroom, only letting me go when I was in my seat, but leaving my handcuffs on.

The trial was useless and I felt like everyone knew it, no one seemed to be on my side. I hated it when people were so prejudicial, judging your story by the chapter they walked in on.

I wasn't paying attention to anything the lawyers or judge said. The atmosphere was so gloomy that it was almost as if we were at a funeral and it made me believe the jury plus everyone else had already made up their minds. I didn't stand a chance.

I wasn't even scared for the outcome, all that was on my mind was Emma. She hadn't come to visit me once and they wouldn't let me make any calls. All I could do now was pray that she was okay.

I felt an elbow poke into my side. I looked up, aware of the fact that I looked utterly annoyed, but my face swiftly softened when it was time to hear the jury's decision.

The choice they had made wasn't a surprise to me at all, but what the judge sentenced me with stung worse than a bee could ever do.

"I hereby sentence Killian Arthur Jones to five years of prison and two years of rehab afterwards, guilty of domestic violence and sexual abuse."

[I'm sorry, this chapter was supposed to be special because it had to show how Emma stays strong no matter what, that nothing can bring her down...Nevertheless, she persisted. But I failed miserably. I'm also sorry for the lack of CS, I promise next chapter will be better, just bear with me, okay? Oh, and I'm going on a camp tomorrow so I won't update until Saturday. I'm terrible sorry, I don't even want to go...]