Every Woman has a Price

by B. M. Hardin

  ~***~

  The trumpet sounded and it was time for me to take that long glorious walk down the aisle. Arm and arm with my oldest brother, I headed toward the rest of my life that was patiently waiting for me at the altar. He smiled at me genuinely and you could see the love in his eyes a million miles away.

  Marcus stood there as fine as the first day that I had laid eyes on him. I just couldn’t believe that out of all the women in the world, hell out of all the women at the wedding, he had chosen me to be his wife.

  He mouthed the words I love you and I smiled at him. All eyes were on me. I had never felt so important, or so beautiful. The thirty thousand dollar white gown I wore hugged my curves perfectly. My curls were pulled up into a bun and hidden shamelessly by my six foot veil. My makeup was fresh; flawless. Today was nothing more than my very own ghetto fairy tale and I couldn’t wait to say I do.

  Because more than anything in the world...I did.

  ~***~

  The first six weeks of our marriage were irreplaceable. I was in marital bliss. But then something happened. I don’t know what went on or what triggered it all but things went from sugar to shit in just a blink of an eye.

  I had just come home from shopping with his sister. I still wasn’t quite use to being able to go into a store and spend thousands, and not have to worry about its consequences. I was so used to being so cheap and stingy that at times I had to remind myself it was plenty left where the money came from, but it was going to take time.

  But boy, was I loving being married to a millionaire. My whole new family was full of millionaires. Marcus was a high paid lawyer and both of his parents were doctors. I was surrounded by luxury and I loved it. But from rats to riches, in what seemed like overnight, was a lot to swallow.

  Pulling up at home, to my surprise, Marcus was home early.

  "Hey baby."

  “Where have you been?"

  “ I was with your sister Tara. We went shopping." I attempted to show him my new lingerie but before I could he smacked the taste out of my mouth.

  Did he just put his hands on me?

  Okay, so I blacked out... just for a second.

  Looking up at him from the floor, the first feeling I felt was rage. My daddy used to beat my mama before he walked out on us, and it would be a cold day in hell before I let any man put his hands on me.

  “Don’t you lie to me bitch! Now I'm going to ask you one more time where--"

  Before he could finish his sentence, I bum rushed him. I was swinging from left to right with my eyes closed. My arms were spinning as if they were a windmill so even if I couldn’t see him if he got within reach, he was going to get the best of me.

  After a while, I felt like I had been swinging forever and then all of a sudden...I wasn’t.

  When I woke up later on that night with a headache, I figured out that he had cracked the shattered vase that lay beside me over my head.

  He hit me with a damn vase? Really? Who does that? And to their wife who by the way hadn’t done anything wrong!

  Once I was off the floor, making me even more upset, I found that his coward ass was gone. I had searched every inch of that house, staggering, ready for war. I was so upset. No, not upset, I was pissed the hell off! How dare he put his hands on me?

  I could deal with a lot of things but physical abuse wasn’t one of them. I be damned if I let anyone especially a man pound on me. Have you ever been hit by a man? I had been in my younger days. He had hit me once in the arm. My whole damn arm felt like it was going to fall off.

  And guess what, that was his first and last time because I left his ass, straight like that. And Marcus sure as hell wasn’t exempt.

  I made my way to our bedroom. I had such a terrible headache. All I wanted to do was lay down. But I just had to get out of here. I had to leave before he got back. I was divorcing his ass first thing in the morning and he could bet his life on that. I tried to make my way to the bathroom but decided that I would lie still to see if the throbbing pain in the back of my head would go away. I must've drifted quietly off to sleep because I was awakened by a crying Marcus. He was on his knees at my feet. Crying and praying, neither of them had I ever seen him do before. But I couldn’t have cared less. God hadn’t told him to put his hands on me. I wondered just how fast I could make it to my 'special' shoe box at the top of my closet because if he touched me again I was going to blow his damn fingers clean off, I swear I was.

  “I’m sorry Kasey." Marcus said in between his tears.

  “Yep, you are." I rolled my eyes and proceeded with trying to get up. Even though he had just put his hands on me, I wasn’t scared of him.

  I almost looked at him as if I dared him to do it again.

  Let me tell you something, I was pretty, maybe even a little prissy. I was all lady, but I came from the projects and back in the day whooping ass was my specialty. I had to learn how to fight. I didn’t have a choice and nobody was going to pound on me. Not man or woman, cat or dog, no damn body.

  “I don't know what came over me. I've never hit a woman before. I guess since I was having such a bad day and then when I called your phone it kept going to the voicemail. I don’t know. It just happened."

  "My phone didn’t ring, not even once. If you got my voicemail maybe it was where we were in the mall or something.

  But you could have asked that instead of putting your hands on me, you could have even called your sister, she could have told you, but you didn’t. And I'm sorry, a woman beater, no, I just will not tolerate. I watched my mama go through it and I will not do that to myself."

  I pushed passed him and headed to the bathroom.

  “Please, I will never hit you again. I promise. You have my word. I love you and I don’t want to lose you. Please baby. Besides, your pregnant, you can't leave me."

  I looked back at him. What did he just say? I'm pregnant?

  Where the hell did he get that from? Yes, my period was super late but that didn’t mean I was pregnant.

  Besides I hadn’t said anything to anyone about that so how did he know?

  " Pregnant? What makes you think I’m pregnant?"

  "Because you are. I can tell. All the signs have been there.

  You haven’t had your period; the sleeping, getting sick out of nowhere. Kasey you pee every five minutes. You're headed to the bathroom to pee now aren’t you?"

  Actually, I was.

  To the bathroom and then to pack my stuff.

  But pregnant? He was right about all the signs but was I actually pregnant? That would not be a good thing right now, would it?

  “Baby, I will never do it again. Let's go to the doctor tomorrow and start our family .I'm so sorry."

  I listened to him cry and beg for the next hour as I packed a bag. I heard him but if he did it once he was capable and probably would do it again. And again. They always did it again, and I just couldn’t live like that.

  I didn’t really have anywhere to go, again, even now in California; I hadn’t made many friends so the Hilton Hotel would be my destination for the night.

  The next day, I went to the doctors, and sure as hell, I was pregnant. I almost couldn’t believe it.

  Two days ago, this day would have been the second happiest day of my life but here today it felt like one of the worse.

  I had always promised myself that I would never have a child unless I was stable. Now after so long, I finally had stability but I couldn’t bring a child up in a dysfunctional home either. I refused to let my son or daughter see me get my ass beat. I just couldn’t stomach that.

  But what if it was a one time thing? What if it was just because he was stressed at work and had tried to reach me? Maybe he didn’t mean to. I knew this man and he had been nothing but good to me. He saw the best in me and had given me the life that I always deserved. He definitely could give our child the life he or she deserved.

  Any child of mine deserved to have a good life; this life.

  I started to Google
abortion clinics on my smart phone. I know, Marcus would have a fit if I had an abortion. But this wasn’t about him, this was about me. My whole future was on the line and the choices I made in the present, the choices that I made today, would be the ones to decide just what it was that the future would have waiting on me.

  I thought long and hard. I hated the fact that I couldn’t even be excited about something that had been so long anticipated. I would be thirty sooner than later and if I was going to have kids it was now or never. But right now, because of the situation, if I was going to get out I had to leave now or I never would. The woman in me knew that. She understood that. So an abortion seemed to be my best option. I rode around in circles until I ended up exactly where I was supposed to be...home.

  ~*******************~

  ~*With every choice you make in your life, there is a consequence. The tricky thing about making a choice is that you just never know if it was a good or bad one until that faithful consequence shows up at your door. Be wise in your decision making because unlike the past, and the present, the future is untold; unwritten. It can still be changed*~

  ~* Anonymous

  *Chapter Six*

  I had been handcuffed to this bed all damn day! I was so mad and frustrated that all I could do was cry. I felt so disgusted and so damn stupid. Stupid and pissy was the words that described me best. I had peed on myself at least five times and it had been a struggle to keep whatever was trying to come out of my ass... in. I had never been so pissed off a day in my life. And on top of that, this fool had left me damn near bird food to eat! I was pregnant, dumb ass. These damn crackers and water wasn’t about to be filling me up. I was so hungry and this baby girl inside of me was even hungrier. She was making such a fuss, that it was making me all the more upset and uncomfortable.

  I was now seven months pregnant. And I was as pregnant as they came.

  I had gained seventy pounds and my stomach was the size of not one but two basketballs.

  But I was cute pregnant, and up until now, I had been enjoying every single minute of it.

  Things between Marcus and I had been back to normal until about a week ago. At first, he was just fussing a little more than usual and then, the torturing me began. He had kept his promise and not put his hands on me but the things he did were so much worst. What I do not understand is who in their right mine wants to hurt a pregnant lady? It just didn’t make sense.

  Last night when he came home, I was bathing, listening to soft music. My day had gone great. I had enjoyed my day shopping for the baby and all I wanted to do was relax.

  Somehow, Marcus had convinced himself that I hurried to get in the tub before he had gotten home because I had been with another man.

  Really? I was looking like a big ass pregnant gorilla, and he wanted to say I was out screwing someone else?

  With whose pussy? Because it sure as hell wasn’t with mine.

  Hell, the pregnancy had been so rough on me that he hardly had gotten any ass himself. Mostly he had to settle for some of my mouth piece because my cervix was always so tender and sore from the baby and all the pressure.

  Anyway, he went on and on about me letting someone else put their piece of a penis in my 'pus box' while I was carrying his baby. The more he talked and the more I ignored his accusations, the more upset he became until finally he pushed my head under the water. When I say I thought I was going to die, really, I thought I was going to die.

  Seriously. He kept me under water so long that he had to give me mouth to mouth and call the paramedics.

  I listened in awe as he gave the doctors at the hospital some bogus ass story about me falling asleep while I was in the tub. I didn’t say a word the entire time. Once I heard that the baby was going to be okay, that was all I needed to know...I was leaving his ass for good this time.

  Since having enough money for the baby was one of my biggest concerns, over the last few months I had been stashing mad money. I had more than enough funds in my new, separate savings account, and I had even been sending lump sums to my mama to put up for me.

  For some reason, way in the back of my head I knew something was going to happen and that I was going to need it. It was so unfortunate that I had been right.

  I mean despite everything that was going on, I loved my husband. Marcus was the best thing that had ever happened to me. Any woman would feel lucky to be in my shoes but let’s face it...he needed some help. Whatever happened to him to make him black out the way that he did from time to time, he truly needed to go see someone about it.

  Seriously. He almost drowned his pregnant wife on the account of something he had made himself believe was true. When in reality, it wasn’t. And then, on the whole way home he actually talked to me as if I had fallen asleep in the tub... for real. This man was and is crazy. And I'm talking about the real kind of crazy. And I was going to get away from his crazy ass as soon as possible.

  I still hadn’t said a single word. I think I was somewhat in shock. I was so confused. I just didn’t know how he could be capable of doing something like that to me. As I said we had been fine. Things had been so, so good. He had been nothing but helpful the entire pregnancy and then all of a sudden he tries to kill me. He really tried to kill me.

  He continued to talk and headed to pour himself a drink. I headed upstairs to our bedroom. This time instead of the overnight bag, I pulled out my luggage. I started to empty out my drawers one by one and in a hurry. I wanted to cry but I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. I was on a mission. Mission 'divorce his ass' was in full force.

  The baby was constantly kicking, making her presence known, and forcing me to slow down and to think about her. All I ever wanted was a good and stable life for her, and for myself. That's it. That’s all I ever wanted. But at what cost? My grandmother taught me a long time ago, that every woman has a price. Every woman was willing to deal with certain things, different things, just to be comfortable. But if the price was my life...I sure as hell wasn’t buying.

  “Where are you going?"

  He had startled me. I hadn’t heard him come up the stairs nor did I bother to look in his direction as he spoke. I didn’t say a word. I simply kept at my task.

  "You are not leaving me." he laughed.

  I remained quiet. I was confused as to just what he saw so damn funny. Nothing was funny about abusing your woman. Nothing was funny about trying to kill your pregnant wife and child. I smacked my lips at the sudden replay of him laughing, echoing in my head.

  “No one told you to fall asleep in the tub. That was your fault not mine and as I said you are not leaving. You and my child are staying right here, where you belong."

  I told you, he was the real kind of crazy. He had convinced himself that he hadn’t tried to drown me.

  I was in my right state of mind so to argue with him about it was pointless; all I wanted to do was leave. I didn’t even know where I was going but I’m sure anywhere was better and safer than being here with him.

  When he finally understood that I wasn’t going to stop packing and that I was serious, he walked closer to me and started to snatch the things from my hands and emptied out the bags.

  Fine.

  He could have the clothes. He can have it all. He just couldn’t have me. I grabbed my keys and he grabbed my wrist.

  “You are not leaving me, Kasey."

  “Let me go." I struggled to pull away from him.

  "No." he said bluntly dragging me closer and closer to the bed. He reached in the night stand for the handcuffs and the rest is history.

  Here I was, still, handcuffed to the damn bed. Hot, stinking, hungry and pissy. I just couldn’t believe that he had left me here like this all day. I truly thought that when he got up this morning he was going to take them off but he didn’t. And oh, it gets better, I was sore because handcuffed to the bed and all he had made me have sex with him, or a better way of putting it was that he had sex with me, because it for damn sure wasn’t consensual. He scowled me because whil
e he was trying to get his you know what; I was pissing on his dick. I actually did it on purpose but tried not to laugh in his stupid face, just because he had the upper hand.

  I blamed it on the baby. But trust me, it was all me. The fact that he had even entered me was cruel. He knew it was painful. He could tell by my screams and the tears falling from my eyes but he didn’t care, nor did he stop until he was finished.

  This man I did not know. He was a monster. He wasn’t at all charming, witty, sexy or nothing. He was not the guy that I fell in love with, no, this was someone else. Someone evil.

  My phone was ringing. If only I could get to it. There just had to be something I could do. But it was hopeless.

  And then I heard movement outside the door. The devil was home.

  He looked at me. At how hot and flushed I was. He looked down at the big ring of piss that I laid in and then back at my face. If a face expression could say a thousand words, mine would surely have told him I hated him.

  Marcus looked all kinds of ashamed. I could tell that he was ashamed of himself.

  It was almost as if he couldn’t believe that he had done that to me...but he had. And he couldn’t take it back. And I couldn’t make any more excuses for him. He needed help and things were only going to get worse.

  Marcus remained quiet and went to run me a bath. He took off the handcuffs and kissed my bruised, red wrists. I rolled my eyes at him. He ignored it and in one quick motion he scooped me up, carried me to the bathroom, undressed me, placed me in the tub and shut the door behind him. No words were spoken.