Holding Their Own XV: Bloodlust

by Nobody, Joe

  Looking up with sad eyes, Terri said, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what he did to me, Bishop. I… I just couldn’t. It’s the only time in our lives together that I haven’t been completely open and honest with you.”

  He sat down beside her and gently took her hand. “It’s okay. We’re okay. It’s all over. I love you now more than ever, and I always will.”

  “I want you to know that I couldn’t be sure,” she sniffed, somehow needing to confess. “He knocked me out cold, and I guess I desperately wanted to believe it didn’t happen. That’s also the reason why I didn’t blow a hole in his skull back there… I just couldn’t be sure.”

  He squeezed her hand and tried to look for a silver lining, “At least you didn’t have to suffer through the physical act of his violation. I suppose that’s a positive, even if a small one.”

  “When I woke up, naked on the floor, I wanted to die, Bishop,” she continued, telling him what happened with her boot laces and how close she had come to committing suicide. “I was such a coward,” she cried. “I couldn’t face you or the rest of my life knowing he had violated me.”

  “But you didn’t do it,” he said softly. “You are strong. You didn’t kill yourself. You walked out of that cell with your head high. Hunter and I are glad. Now, we can spend the rest of our lives knowing your love.”

  The door behind them opened, Ketchum’s two companions stepping onto the porch, Butter’s towering frame behind them. Both seemed relieved that they weren’t going to be slaughtered.

  “Take whatever vehicles you used to get here and leave,” Bishop directed in an emotionless monotone. “Let all of Ketchum’s friends know that he’s bound for the hangman’s noose. If I ever see you again, you’ll join him in hell. Is that clear?”

  Both women nodded vigorously and then started to walk away.

  After only a few steps, one of them turned and came back toward Bishop and his wife. With a trembling voice, she said, “I want you to know something,” looking directly at Terri. “I overheard someone say that you thought Ketch raped you. I wanted you to know that he didn’t.”

  “What?” she snapped, standing to her feet in a rush. “What are you talking about?”

  “That day at the old furniture factory… when he knocked you out. He ordered me to go into your room and remove your clothing. Ketchum was like that, always fucking with people’s heads. It was wrong that he hit you. I felt terrible because you were bleeding, and I know firsthand how bad that hurts. But he never raped you.”

  Terri, dazed and confused, wanted so desperately to believe what the woman was saying, but couldn’t. “You’re lying. I could smell him all over me… You’re making this up!”

  Shrugging, the woman remained unphased by Terri’s outburst. “You have a birthmark right here,” she said, pointing to her own thigh. “It’s shaped like a heart. When I was pulling off your jeans, I noticed it and thought it was pretty… a natural little tattoo. Anyway, I thought you would want to know.”

  Without another word, she pivoted and hustled off to catch up with her friend.

  Terri flopped back down on the step, her legs unable to support her weight. As Bishop wrapped his arm around her, her body began shaking with uncontrollable sobs.

  “You okay?” Bishop asked, confused by her reaction, yet trying to be sympathetic.

  She didn’t answer for several minutes, her head buried in her hands as the tears flowed.

  Eventually, the tears slowed, and she regained control. After a bit, Terri sniffed and looked at Bishop. “I don’t know what to believe,” she whispered. “Everything in my head is a jumbled, muddy mess.”

  “I believe her,” he smiled, watching the two gals walk away under Butter’s watchful eye. “Let’s go home.”

  “You think she’s telling the truth? Really?” Terri asked, hope returning to her eyes.

  “I think that beauty mark is pretty too,” he grinned. “And it does look like a precious, little heart. How would she have known about it if she was lying?”

  Terri could think of a hundred reasons why Ketchum’s whore would know about her birthmark. That sick bastard could have been bragging about his conquest. She could have come in after he had finished. Hell, Blackjack could have even made her watch his dastardly act.

  Sensing exactly what was going through his wife’s mind, Bishop repeated his statement of faith. “I believe her. She had no reason to lie. If you want, I can have Butter bring her back, and we can put her under a bright light and make her confess?” he teased.

  “But… but…” Terri stammered, and then stopped. Grim and Kevin were approaching.

  “Ready when you are, boss. The prisoner didn’t give us any trouble.”

  Flashing a genuine smile for the first time in weeks, a hint of the old Terri, the woman Bishop had always known and loved, appeared in her eyes. “Then it’s finally over,” she sighed. “This chapter is done. Let’s get out of here.”

  Epilogue

  Bishop shaded his eyes from the sun, jealous of his wife’s wide-brimmed hat. It was hot and humid, without even a hint of a breeze. Worse yet, the button-down collar on the dress shirt Terri had demanded that he wear was driving him nuts.

  As he scanned the courthouse lawn, Bishop noticed that many of the attendees were fanning themselves. He yearned for a piece of paper to move the stagnant air.

  Row after row of folding chairs had been erected, most of them with complete with black, stenciled letters that said, “Forest Mist First Baptist Church,” across the back. Every seat was taken, occupied by men in their best suits and women wearing bright spring colors and Easter hats. It was an important day, and no one in the East Texas town wanted to miss the ceremony.

  The brass band wasn’t half bad, Bishop acknowledged, although he would have probably enjoyed the music a bit more if he had been sitting in the shade. The cup of lemonade he had purchased earlier from a makeshift stand had been perfect, cold and refreshing, and just the right combination of sweet and bitter.

  Diana finally appeared on the stage, which was really a repurposed semi-trailer with wooden steps and the podium from the same church that had supplied the chairs. Someone had done a nice job painting the red and blue banners that worked like a skirt around the platform. The Alliance flag, with its proud single star, hung from everything that stood still, complemented by dozens of red and blue streamers and bundles of multi-colored balloons.

  Seated on the stage were two rows of dignitaries, Bishop noting both Allison and Carlie in attendance. He was happy the B&B’s owner was making a full recovery. Diana had tried to get Bishop and Terri to join the special guests, but the couple from West Texas had declined, both uncomfortable with the limelight these days.

  They watched as Diana gave her speech, a rousing oration touting the first steps of the Alliance’s new immigration law, named after Nathan Hill. She described the policy, a new enforcement department, and a series of programs to help new arrivals to the Lone Star Nation become oriented while at the same time keeping criminal and other undesirable elements from flooding the recovering territory.

  Bishop was especially impressed by how the council proposed to pay for the new plan. Critical public works projects and infrastructure repairs would be performed by those entering Texas as part of their orientation. In turn, the funds that would have been spent on bridges, dams, schools, and other critical resources would be repurposed to pay for border enforcement, job training, and other necessary, bureaucratic overhead.

  “Forest Mist and the issues endured by this community were the catalysts for this new legislation,” Diana had stated. “The experiences here, as well as several other border areas, served as a blueprint to the council’s solution to the difficult problems we all face.”

  She went on to say that Texas had been founded by immigrants, and that the very fabric of the Lone Star Nation had been strengthened by the diversity of culture, race, and religion that they all enjoyed. “We want immigration. We need immigration, but it
must be controlled, policed, and performed in such a way that the lives of our citizens are enhanced and improved. Our borders cannot be open any longer. We must control who we invite into our homes, businesses, and communities.”

  All in all, Bishop thought hers was a good speech, and that the new regulations and programs offered potential. Diana, as with all good politicians, had done a commendable job walking the middle of a controversial road and still had created a fair answer to a problem that had existed long before the fall of society. The people of Forest Mist, including their newly assimilated citizens, seemed thrilled with the direction the Alliance was taking.

  After the speech was over, the couple meandered their way backstage. After exchanging hugs and kisses with the Alliance’s highest elected official, Diana leaned in close to Terri and prodded, “Have you told him yet?”

  Flushing red with embarrassment, Terri’s face answered the question before she mumbled, “No… I was waiting… but I guess now is as good a time as any.”

  “Told me what?” Bishop smiled, hoping his wife had something special planned for later in the evening.

  The two women exchanged knowing glances, happy to be in on an exclusive a secret.

  Finally, peering up at her soulmate with adoring eyes, Terri announced, “I’m pregnant.”

  THE END

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  [E1]

  [E2]