The Unwanted Wedding

Chapter 39 - If I Ever See the Light of Day

Vin 

The house looked barely alive as I snuck up along the waterfront, dark except for a few blinks of candlelight. I found the door open and unlocked, I heard soft sounds coming from up the stairs, otherwise the house seemed abandoned. She's not here. Disappointment and absolute unbareabity. Where is she? Where have they taken her?

I followed the sounds coming from above, making the silent trip up. I slid along the wall, peeking into the open slit of the ajar door leading to a bedroom. I frowned at the sight of the daughter, I couldn't recall her name. Gracie? Grace? She lay huddled in the bed, naked and her body shaking with repression of tears. There was no one else in the room, I raised my loaded pistol I brought with me. I entered the room quietly but she still noticed. She gasped but made no attempt to raise any alarm. Odd. I blinked, she was hurt. Her lip bled and her body bruised.

"Help me...." She gasped, looking sickly and pale.

I lowered my pistol and knelt out of sight by her side of the bed. "If you tell me what has become of my wife I'll give you want ever assistance of me you wish to have." I offered, gazing seriously at her face.

"I'll tell you anything you want to know! Just help me, please." She begged, clutching my arm.

I studied her face, "What happened to you?"

She sniffled, "After Cris died, they made me marry William, he's a friend of my father's. Oh, he's horrible! He truly is!" She looked at me pleadingly, "You have to help me."

I glanced at her injuries, "Did he do this to you?" She nodded. "I'll help you. Get dressed at least." She opened her mouth to thank me, I think, but there was a heavy sound of footsteps coming. After her panicked glance she pushed me towards a alcove for me to hid in.

I watched as a gruff looking man entered the room. His brown hair was wiry and sat in a odd cluster at the sides of his very circular head, he had a fuzzy beard that made his whole face look a bit too rounded. His eyes were beady, pig-like, too small. His enormous stomach was covered in a shiny-threaded gold waistcoat, decorated with beaming emeralds. He wore thick green gloves and sturdy boots. His leather pants were well kept and shined. He reminded me of a classy bushman. Or a wild Henry 8th.

I shielded myself back against the wall behind the curtain, peeking through the small space between the edges of the curtains reach. I couldn't kill this man for her, not now. It'll look too suspicious, I'll have to wait. I tried to numb myself against the sounds of Gracia's whimpering and yelps as her turned her over and gave her rump a sharp whack.

"Eh, where do you think you're going? Get back h're." She let out a wail as he dragged her to the edge of the bed, dangling her legs off the bed and lifting her up from her hips. I listened to the disgusting sounds of unbuckling and tearing, before the revolting echo of spitting as he slickened himself. I closed my eyes against the sight of him forcing himself into her. It wasn't just the whole family was fucked, it was everyone they were associated with. Her moans were smothered. The bed moved violently, the wood cracking against the cold brick wall. I was going to kill this man, there was no doubt about it. I heard the muffled screams she tried to let out as he rutted into her young frame. Shit, she was only seventeen.

"That's it, just a little more, good, good, let it in, ah." He grunted, "Ooh yes, oooh yeeeesss, good girl. You look so good down there, on your stomach, I just want to come into you like a fountain" He groaned. As disgusting as that was, at least it would end it for her. "Ooh, you're moistening me up real good. Ooh, huh, are you wet? Hmm? Are you wet or are you bleeding? Yes...." He hissed out. Gracia let out a long protesting sound. My hand tightened around the pistol. "My beauty." He said with urgency. "My sweet spoil." He groaned loudly as he came.