One Choice

by Ginger Solomon

  She didn't move. Approaching him was not high on her to-do list at the moment.

  He snarled and put down the bags he carried. She felt her eyes widen as he moved toward her.

  “I warned you, my dear, bad girls get punished.”

  He grabbed her arm and yanked her out of the chair. She hit him with her free arm as hard as she could. He didn't even wince, but pulled a knife from his pocket. She froze.

  “Good girl,” he murmured in her ear. Bile rose in her throat, and she swallowed it back down. “Since you don't want to cooperate, you can eat later after I'm gone. It's time to change.” He released her and returned to the door to retrieve one of the bags. After tucking the knife back in his pocket, he handed the bag to her. “Put this on.”

  She opened it and peered in. What she saw made her stomach churn.

  “No.” She threw the bag on the floor and lifted her chin in defiance. She saw his hand tighten into a fist in her peripheral vision, but she was too late to duck out of the way when he swung at her. Pain seared her jaw, and stars blinked like lightning bugs behind her eyes. She picked herself up from the floor.

  “Put it on,” he demanded, handing the bag back to her.

  She lifted her chin again, refusing to take the bag. “No.”

  He grabbed a handful of her shirt and pulled her to him. Hatred emanated from him. He crushed her lips with his. She struggled, but his hold was too strong. “You will be mine, willing or not. Now, undress or pay the consequences.” He shoved her away.

  She didn't reply, but neither did she remove her clothes. She stared at him, waiting for his next move. Mere moments passed before he grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the bedroom. Fear silenced her questions. She didn’t want to know, didn’t want to think about what might happen.

  When he finished beating her, she felt his gaze rake over her bruised and naked body, but she couldn't summon the will to care. He moved around to the side of the bed she faced. He pushed her hair from her face and rubbed his thumb across her cheek to wipe away her tears with a gentle touch. “I warned you, little princess. Bad girls get punished. I didn't want to hurt you, but you brought it on yourself.

  “Put on the clothes I brought you and eat your lunch. I will be back later, and we will share dinner. I have a romantic evening planned.”

  Romantic? Oh, God— Her prayer stopped. The words to express her terror wouldn’t come.

  “Why are you doing this, Waseem? What have I done to cause you to treat me like this?”

  He caressed her hair. His touch surprised her in its gentleness.

  “It's not you I aim to hurt, Princess, but your loving husband. I plan to take from him just as he took from me. You just happen to be the one he loves. I loved my sister, but he killed her when he tossed her out like a piece of trash.” His voice hardened. “The added bonus is I get to enjoy you first. I hacked the camera feed in your room, so I know he hasn't consummated your marriage yet. Therefore, I get the privilege of taking your innocence from him as well.”

  His sinister laugh sent chills down her spine.

  Waseem's shoes echoed in Cahri's ears as he left the room. He paused, and then she heard the door open and close. A click let her know he hadn't forgotten to lock it.

  Crawling from the bed, she was careful not to put any pressure on her backside. She moved to the bag of clothes he'd left and pulled out the garment. A sheer negligee. She put it on. It hid nothing, but her other clothes had been shredded when he'd cut them off her.

  She crept over to the other bag and inspected its contents. A sandwich and an apple. It wasn't much, but it would keep hunger at bay, if she became hungry. She put them back in the bag and stuffed them in the refrigerator.

  Returning to the bed, she lay down on her side. Sitting was not an option, wouldn't be without pain for some time. Despite the discomfort, she fell into a fitful sleep.

  She awoke two hours later with tears making a puddle on the pillow beneath her head.

  Her worst nightmare.

  In her dream, she had managed to escape Waseem, but not before he'd violated her. When Josiah had found out what happened, he'd divorced her, relaying the message she was tainted and he never wanted to see her again. He hadn't even had the decency to tell her in person, but had sent a servant with a note. The whole royal family shunned her. She shivered and tried to think of something, anything except the visions stuck in her head.

  Tears continued to stream from her eyes over the bridge of her nose to plop on the pillow. She couldn't figure a way out of this. Waseem could do whatever he wanted because she wasn't strong enough to fight him, and no one knew her location. Except God.

  She prayed. Her tears slowed. Peace reigned. He knew where she was and He had vowed to be her protector, her strong tower, and her ever-present help in trouble. And she was in trouble. Big time.

  She heard the lock click. Rolling out of the bed, she pulled the comforter with her, wrapping her negligee-covered body in it. She stood in the corner waiting. He had come. She trembled. Her fear almost brought her to her knees.

  “Princess, come here and greet me with a kiss.”

  Her feet carried her to the main room. She couldn't handle another beating like the last. She stopped in front of Waseem, but couldn't bring herself to kiss him. She could feel his eyes graze over her. She glanced up at him through the one eye that wasn't swollen.

  “Why are you wrapped in a blanket?” He emphasized each word, increasing his volume until he yelled the word blanket. He reached out and yanked it off her back and threw it on the floor out of her reach.

  “Bad girls get punished, Princess.” He grabbed her hair and pushed her toward the bedroom.

  “I'm sorry, Waseem. I won't do it again. I promise. Please not another beating,” she begged, as tears streamed down her face. Please, God, no.

  “Bad girls get punished.”

  ****

  Josiah hobbled from the window to the door and back again. Matthias had found nothing. Cahri had been gone for over five hours. No one had seen her since before lunch. Where could she be?

  Waseem had reported for duty as usual, and there was no proof he was involved in her disappearance. They couldn't accuse him without proof.

  Josiah had ordered Matthias to check every building on the property and to find some errand to take Waseem off the grounds for at least the next twenty-four hours. Before then, he was to be watched at all times.

  Anaya entered his room. She glanced at the table where his dinner sat untouched. “You have to eat, Josiah. When we find her, and we will, she will need you strong.”

  He nodded but continued pacing.

  “Sit. Eat.”

  “Leave me alone.”

  “No. Now sit or I will get the doctor, and he will sedate you enough to make you compliant. You are not helping your leg by being on it so much. Sit down, Josiah. We will find her. Your pacing is not helping.”

  He sat just to get her to be quiet. Moving the fork around on the plate, he stared at his food, but nothing passed his lips. He couldn’t tell her how the pain from his leg radiated up his spine. His foot was swollen, but he wouldn’t complain. She would see him confined to bed, if she knew.

  “Where could she be? Why would Waseem want her? I can't figure it out. She's never done anything to him. She's always polite, even when he's irritable.”

  “We don't know he's the one who did it. There's no proof. They were not caught on camera anywhere. We have to wait and let Matthias do his job.”

  “How? How can I wait and do nothing when she could be out there hurt, praying for me to find her? I'm stuck here with this stupid broken leg, and you won't even let me out of the room.

  “We haven't even…” He broke off. He used to tell his sister everything before his marriage. He couldn't embarrass Cahri in such a way.

  “You haven't what?”

  “Never mind.”

  “No. Tell me what you were going to say.” She reached out her hand and touched his arm.
<
br />   He had to say it. His heart broke for the time he'd wasted. “We haven’t… I haven't… made her my wife yet.”

  Anaya's eyes widened.

  “Just drop it, okay? It's none of your business anyway.”

  A knock sounded on the door. Matthias entered. “Waseem was seen on the outskirts of the property. Arrangements are being made for him to go into the city to await Minister Salim, who is scheduled to arrive tomorrow. As soon as those can be finalized, he will be given his instructions, and then I will check out the buildings on that side of the property. I will report back when I find something.”

  Josiah dismissed him and asked Anaya for privacy.

  His heart cried out to God. He would drop to his knees if he could. The feeling of Cahri being in danger and his inability to protect her cut through him like a knife.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Cahri woke to blinding pain in her back. She winced when a cold cloth touched her skin.

  “I'm sorry, Princess. I don't want to hurt you, but you give me no choice. You must learn to submit to me. Our time together demands it. I will take your body and break your spirit and then send you back to your husband. I have decided it would cause him more pain than killing you. Now it's time for our dinner together.”

  She screamed when he lifted her from the bed but didn't pass out. That would have been a blessed relief. He dropped the negligee back over her head. She clenched her teeth to keep from screaming again as she moved her arms into the armholes. He made her walk out of the bedroom.

  There was a tablecloth on the small table, along with a lit candle. Rice and vegetables graced two expensive-looking paper plates flanked by silver plastic forks. The cups were also plastic. He brought nothing she could use to cause him harm, except maybe the candle. A long shot, at best, and her body hurt too much to move fast enough to do any damage.

  He pulled out her chair, expecting her to sit. She hesitated, and his eyes darkened with warning.

  “Could I have a pillow to sit on?” she whispered, lowering her eyes. He moved away and returned with two pillows. He put one on the seat and another on the back. She sat down with a lot of care, but it didn’t stop the agony. Tears burned her eyes, but she refused to cry out.

  He moved to the other chair and started a conversation in which he expected her to participate. When he paused, she replied with the shortest answer possible. She pushed the food around on her plate, but couldn't work up the desire to put any in her mouth.

  “Eat.”

  His demand caused her to drop her fork. She picked it up and took a bite, pushing it past her swollen lips. She winced each time her teeth ground together.

  When he finished, he told her to stand. She obeyed. It was sweet relief to take her weight off her backside. He grabbed her elbow and directed her toward the bedroom when his walkie-talkie squawked his name. He gave her a warning look.

  There would be no escape from him. Not on her own. He would kill her before Matthias could figure out where she was if she made any noise. She kept quiet.

  “Waseem, come in,” Matthias's voice repeated.

  He picked it up. “Yes, sir?”

  “Where are you?”

  “Checking the perimeter.”

  She grimaced at his lie.

  “You are needed at the palace. Pack a bag before you come. You're going to the city.”

  “Yes, sir. Be right there.” He cursed.

  Thank you, God. Another reprieve. She kept her head lowered so he couldn’t see her relief.

  “Sleep tight, Princess. Tomorrow I will come for you and take you as mine.” He touched her cheek and ran his finger down her neck, along her collarbone, until he reached the edge of the negligee. She shuddered. His hand went to the back of her neck, and he jerked her forward. He crushed her bruised lips with his. She didn't resist his kiss, but neither did she participate.

  “Good girl. You are learning. Until tomorrow, my princess.” He grabbed the trash, unlocked the door, and left.

  She walked to the bathroom and tried to position herself so she could see her back in the mirror screwed to the wall. She didn't bother taking off the gown. It covered nothing anyway. What she saw almost brought her to her knees. Black and blue stripes covered her entire backside from the two beatings. Large, swollen welts ended each mark on her back. The bruises blended, but she counted at least seven or eight new wounds. Blood had surfaced on a few. He must have continued to beat her after she passed out. She only remembered three lashes. Or was it four?

  Cahri washed her face, avoiding her swollen eye and cracked lip, which had reopened when he'd kissed her. There wasn’t a toothbrush so she couldn't brush her teeth, but she did rinse her mouth, more to get his taste out than anything.

  With one last look at her swollen face, she sighed and left the bathroom. Weariness prodded her to the bedroom. Bending over to pick up the blanket Waseem had ripped from her shoulders, she shrieked as the skin tightened across her raw back. She dragged the blanket to the bed and crawled in, flinching at every turn. Prayer brought her comfort, and she slept once more.

  Cahri’s eyes popped open. She turned over, but the pain in her back forced her to return to her side. She lay there listening, certain a noise had woken her.

  There. The lock on the door clicked. She shuddered. He wasn't supposed to be back yet. She glanced at the window. Still dark. She pushed herself to get out of the bed. Although she wanted to wrap herself in the blanket, she left it where it lay. She couldn't survive more pain right now. Her whole body ached from the thrashings she had endured yesterday. Or was it still today?

  She moved next to the wall, leaning against it, not thinking, and whimpered in pain. Darkness made it hard for her to know who moved around in the other room. A flashlight swung around the room. Then the light clicked on.

  “Princess?” a familiar voice called.

  “Matthias?” She was afraid to hope. Then she recoiled. Was he in on it with Waseem? They seemed to be friends. Was he here to take his turn with her? She trembled until she didn't think her legs would support her.

  His frame stood in the doorway, blocking most of the light from the other room. “Princess?”

  “Matthias?” Her voice quivered.

  “I'm here to take you home.” His hand reached for the light switch.

  “No!”

  He froze.

  She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “I'm sorry. Don't turn on the light, please. I need to get the blanket first.”

  “I'll just wait out here.” He whirled away.

  “Don't leave me,” she pleaded.

  “It's okay. You're safe now. I'll just face the other way, and you tap me on the shoulder when you're ready. Okay?” His gentle voice reassured her.

  “Okay.” She walked to the bed. The act of removing the comforter pulled on her back muscles, and she had to squelch a scream. It came out as a squeal instead.

  “Princess?”

  “I'm okay.” She gritted her teeth and managed to get it draped over her head and around her shoulders without verbalizing her pain. Taking a deep breath, she walked up to Matthias and tapped his shoulder. “I'm ready.”

  He faced her, gasped, and then glanced away. “I'm sorry, Princess.”

  She peered up at him. “This is not your fault. Waseem did this, and I don't think anyone could have done anything about it.”

  “So it was Waseem?”

  The tightness in her throat prevented her from speaking, so she nodded.

  His jaw clamped down, a muscle on the side of his face twitched, and his eyes hardened.

  She stepped back, pulling the blanket tighter around herself. Fear snaked up her spine. After a moment, he seemed to collect himself with a deep breath. His eyes softened when he glanced down at her. She relaxed.

  He moved out of the way, allowing her to exit in front of him. His hand touched her back. She jumped away and screamed at the same time. His eyes widened.

  “Please, don't touch me.”
/>   He nodded.

  “Can you walk back to the palace?”

  “He took my shoes, but I will.” She lifted her chin, determined to do make it on her own strength.

  He stretched out his arm, indicating she should precede him out the door. He shut off the light and locked the door behind him. He revealed the way with his flashlight but kept silent. Rocks bit into her feet, but it couldn’t compare to the other pain she'd endured.

  When they came within view of the palace, he spoke. “I will need you to tell me what happened soon. I know it will be difficult. If it weren't essential to my investigation, I wouldn’t make you do it.”

  “I understand.” And she did, but the prospect of reliving the last twelve or so hours sickened her. She just wanted to forget the whole ordeal.

  Her life had changed once more, but could God work this out for her good?

  What would Josiah think of her now?

  Would he reject her?

  Chapter Thirty

  Sleep eluded Josiah. Cahri hadn't left of her own free will, though the thought had tried to invade his mind many times.

  Waseem acted normal. He didn't seem changed at all. The man had returned to his normal duties since Josiah’s mobility had increased.

  Josiah tried to pray, but few words formed. God, please keep her safe. Effective, but not eloquent.

  He sighed, sat up in bed, flipped on the light, and reached for his Bible. He held it for a time, staring at the black leather cover, but thinking about his wife. The Psalms called to him. It was cliché to go there first, he knew, but he needed encouragement and that's where he would find it.

  Chapter Thirty was his first stop. The second half of verse five jumped out at him. “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.”

  Psalm Ninety-One drew him next. He prayed the whole psalm over Cahri, declaring God her refuge and her shield. Praying she was safe under the shadow of His wings. As he cried out to God, tears trickled down his face. He should have been the one to keep her safe, should have paid more attention to the threats. Was she suffering because of his inattention to details?