Kara's POV
My heart rate picks up as Joe pushes past me and into the house. I search desperately to find any words. He looks around, as if searching for George. He turns and faces me. His face red with anger as he spits words at me.
"What. The. Hell."
"What?" I ask quietly.
"I said. WHAT THE HELL KARA!" His voice raises.
I jump at the sound. I suddenly wish with all my might that I weren't all alone right now.
"I don't know what you're talking about Joe." I say, trying my best to not let my voice waver.
"Married?! To a fucking musician? A rich, famous person?! Whaddya do it for? The money?? The fame?? Huh?? Why the hell would you be with some skinny little ass?! He's probably never had to lift a finger to work a day in his perfect little life!" He's full on shouting now and I'm cringed against the door.
The phone. I think. I've got to get to the phone. I can call George or Miss Judy or the police. I just need to phone someone. I push off the door. He follows me as he keeps yelling and pointing.
"Your nice fancy fucking house! Your fancy fucking car! Your fancy fucking life!"
I've made it successfully to the kitchen and am reaching for the phone as nonchalantly as I can.
"Your fancy fucking clothes!" Joe spits at me.
He's pointing at my outfit and for the first time he looks at something other than my face.
All sorts of expressions cross his face as he sees my pregnant belly.
"You. Fucking. Bitch!" He hollers.
He moves to me at lightning speed - I don't even have time to react to him coming closer. He shoves me and I hit my head on the wall.
"Please!" I say, holding my hands up in defeat.
He pulls me up by the collar on my shirt. He flings me across the room as if I'm as light as a pillow. I hit my head on an edge of a decorative table in the room and I know my head is cut. But I only worry about the baby and the problems this may cause.
Joe stalks over, picks me up and throws me again. I reach my hand up to my head and come down with bloody fingers.
"You stupid, slutty, bitchy whore!!" He's yelling on and on.
I'm getting woozy. I try to stand but Joe's lifted me off the ground. He's got me suspended in the air. I couldn't even focus on his words if I tried. He throws me once again. This time I hit the wall stomach first. I finally burst into tears.
"Please. Please. The baby. Please." I cry as I plead and plead.
Joe stares at me hard. And for a moment I think he's going to stomp on me. I really do.
Finally he spits at the floor next to me. He bends down and lifts me up - not gently. He carries me wedding style but I know it's not for my own comfort. With my large belly, it's probably easier for him to carry me that way.
Joe pulls open the door and stalks quickly down the steps and to his car. He doesn't even bother with the front door, leaving it wide open for anyone to go into the house.
I shout and scream hoping to be heard. But George had the home built in a very private area - the closest home nearly 15 miles away. Joe slaps my face to shut me up. He drops me carelessly in the backseat of his filthy truck.
I sob as I curl my hands around my stomach, praying with everything I've got that my baby's okay. My stomach is in pain, blood is rushing out of my head. I shift under the movements of the moving car.
It's not but a few moments before I lose consciousness.
