Mary lay on top of a warm, male chest, wrapped in blankets, she could feel Samuel's warm, steady breath on her neck.
In that moment she was happy, felt safe, secure and warm.
She lay there a while listening to Samuel's steady heartbeat, his hand idly combing through her hair. This had been more than she was expecting, she was not prepared for such emotion. The way he had looked at her, like he cared, it had been such a long time since anyone had looked at her like that. Truth be told she also cared, maybe a little to much, that had not just been sex that was more, much more and she just hoped they both didn't break when they had to walk away.
Samuel stirred beneath her, pulling her from her thoughts.
"I have to take care of Jess," he softly said, still combing his fingers through her hair, "I was thinking maybe I'll bury her by the river, she was happy there."
"I think that Jess would like that," Mary said, reluctantly rising from Samuel's arms.
As she did the blankets fell around her waist, She heard Samuel's sharp intake of breath.
"Oh lord," she heard his heart stricken words, "what did he do to you?"
Mary knew he was referring to the marks that covered her skin, even in death they had not faded. Her body was a map of abuse.
"He was not always this way," Mary quickly tried to make excuses as she had when her father and brothers had asked. "He was good in the beginning, the drink it changed him."
"Drink is no excuse, Mary," Samuel sighed.
"I know," she whispered, and she did know, there was no excuse for what he had done.
All the broken bones, the burns, the bites, the deep scars left across her body from all the times he had took his belt to her. All the times he hurt her. Looking back now, how she wished she had just took Bethy and ran, but she had been scared, she had been so scared.
Samuel took her in his arms and just held her, Mary had not even realized she was crying.
"It's alright," he soothed, gently rocking her as if she were a small child that needed comforting.
Mary let him, buried her head in his chest and listened to his soft words as he wrapped her back up in the blankets.
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Mary slowly followed Samuel down the path which would take them to the river.
It felt warmer today a light breeze gently ruffled her hair.
It was still early, She stared at Samuel's back, in his arms he carried Jess, wrapped in a blanket.
He was quiet, had been since they left the cottage, the only sound now was from the magpies overhead, chattering excitedly to each other. Mary had never really liked magpies, they reminded her of Fergus, bullies, looking for something smaller to hurt.
Samuel slowed as they neared the river, he seemed to have already decided on the perfect resting place for Jess. He gently lay Jess down under the shade of the big oak tree where Mary had first seen them.
Turning he took the spade she carried and proceeded to dig, till a hole the perfect size for Jess lay before them.
Giving Jess's head one final pat he gently laid her to rest.
When done he stood staring sadly at the grave, Mary walked towards him, took his hand , gave it a gentle squeeze.
" I'm sorry," she heard him whisper, before they turned to leave.
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YOU ARE READING
Be Still My Banshee Heart
ParanormalStrange things happen when Samuel inherits his parents old cottage back home in sleepy Ireland. Between the wailing Banshee ( all be it a very attractive wailing Banshee) down by the river, his parents disapproval of the cottage renovations ( his de...