Their Wife

Two

"Miss?" Timothy asked when I didn't move.

"Why isn't anyone helping?" I questioned as I turned to face him with wide eyes full of shock.

"What?" he asked in confusion.

I raised my hand and pointed at the horrible scene. "Why is everyone just ignoring that! She could kill him!"

"Ah..." he looked at me astonished. "It's none of their business. She can do as she pleases with him."

"What? So everyone's just going to act like someone isn't beating a naked man to death!" I questioned, outraged at his response.

"Miss, that's her husband. The black bands across his neck and her wrist indicate that she has done the bonding ceremony with him. They are soul bound. She wouldn't kill him, that would inconvenience her too much."

"Soul bound?"

I looked towards the three people and saw that the man being whipped along with the man standing beside him both had thin black bands that looked like tattoos encircling their necks above where their collars loosely lay. I then looked at the woman's wrist as she continued to rain down blows and found she also had a black band encircling it, but hers was much thicker.

A ringing sound echoed in the car drawing our attention. Timothy pulled out a black phone from his pocket.

"Yes, Lord Jax," he answered. He paused while the person on the other end spoke before replying. "I have just dropped the Miss off nearby, I can make it there by the time you are done," he replied before hanging up.

"Miss, I need to get going," he said, looking at me with a bit of guilt and concern.

I nodded my head and opened the door onto the lively street. When I put one bare, bloodied foot onto the cobblestone street, Timothy spoke once more.

"Miss, please do not interfere. It would not end well for you," he warned.

I looked back towards him and reluctantly nodded. I knew I wouldn't interfere, I simply couldn't. I wouldn't be able to muster up the amount of courage that would be needed to interfere, especially since the subject matter revolved around violence and abuse. My mind screamed at me to help him, but my inner demons held me back. Luckily, by the time I was fully out of the car and standing on the street, the woman had dragged the two men away. I turned to close the car door and watched as Timothy drove away.

I turned around and made my way through the crowd aimlessly, not having enough courage to ask someone for help or information. Hopefully, I'd be able to see something while wandering that would help indicate where I was. Continuing forward trying to look around, I couldn't see what direction I was headed in. Everyone surrounding me was taller or wider than me, blocking my line of sight.

After wandering aimlessly and being pushed around for what felt like hours, I finally broke away from the dense crowd. Now that I was able to see more than the chests and backs of men and women, I noticed that many of the women had black bands tattooed around their wrists like the woman earlier, but they were in varying thicknesses. Many of the men also had identical yet thin black bands tattooed around their necks, a collar, or both.

I noticed some women giving me weird looks that held some form of disgust or displeasure after they look me over. I consciously looked down at my filthy clothes. The grey shirt I wore was so filthy it was difficult to see the various fluids that stranded it. The pants were no better. My clothing could hid the evidence of my poor state, but my bare feet and tangled hair couldn't.

I tried to smooth down my hair and rub away any dirt, grime, or blood that may have been on my face with my sleeves. It helped reduce the number of women that eyed me like a dirty sewer rat, but not by a whole lot. Most of the men kept their eyes on the ground, but there were a few dressed in high-end clothing that kept their heads up. Some of their cold, emotionless eyes briefly flicker up and down my body before meeting mine, but instead of cold indifference like mere seconds before, they held hints of curiosity. A few of them that didn't have a black band or collar around their necks even proceed to scan my wrists as the corners of their mouths lifted into small smirks and their gazes turned calculating.