My Vows Are Sealed (Sealed With a Kiss)

by Carmen Richter

  I needed to get to the only place where I’d ever felt completely safe, and I needed to make a plan. Because I’d be damned if I ever set foot back in this house again.

  Chapter 21

  Brendan

  Pompeii

  My heart leapt into my throat when I heard my apartment door being unlocked just as I was stepping out of the shower.

  In the entire nine months since I’d been living here, Darla hadn’t used the key I gave her once. I’d gotten texts and calls from her asking me to come to her house after her parents were asleep, just like had been the norm since we first started dating, but she’d never left her house to come here after something happened.

  My girlfriend’s sobs echoed in my ears as I quickly dried myself off and threw on a pair of sweats and the first t-shirt I could find. When I walked out into the living room, she was curled up on the couch in a ball, her entire body shaking while she bawled her eyes out.

  I knelt down in front of her and put a hand on her shoulder.

  “Don’t touch me!” she screamed as she shot up to a sitting position, her eyes darting around the room as she cowered back into the couch cushions.

  For a split second, her words stung me like a slap in the face. Not once in three and a half years had she ever told me not to touch her. No matter how bad things got, no matter what that animal had done to her, she’d never not wanted a hug from me before.

  And then reality hit me like a ton of bricks, and the sting was replaced by complete, absolute, soul-crushing terror. There was only one reason I could think of why she wouldn’t want to be touched.

  Please, Jesus, tell me this isn’t what I think it is, I prayed. Please tell me it’s not the thing I’ve been terrified of since the second she trusted me with the truth.

  “It’s just me, Dar,” I said, my voice thick with the fear I couldn’t hide.

  Her entire body sagged with relief as her eyes finally focused on me, and the next moment, she was throwing herself at me, wrapping her arms around my neck like a vice.

  “Brendan,” she sniffled. “Oh, my God.”

  I folded my arms around her as I sat on the floor and leaned back against the couch, and she didn’t let go of me as she moved to straddle my legs. She was still trembling violently as she sobbed into my shoulder, and she tightened her arms around me even more and shimmied further up my lap, like she couldn’t get close enough to me.

  My heart felt like it was about to pound out of my chest, and I realized I was shaking a little too, almost like I was absorbing all of her fear and pain and processing it for her. Or maybe like our souls were so connected that I could feel her abject terror and had no choice but to mirror it. I had so many questions right now that I didn’t even know where to start, but I was terrified that I wasn’t going to like the answers when I heard them. And I knew I wasn’t going to get anything out of her until she got this out of her system, so I took a few deep breaths to try to calm down as I hugged her tighter and kissed the side of her head.

  “I’ve got you, baby,” I murmured. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

  “Don’t let go,” she blubbered. “Please. I need you.”

  “I’m right here, Dar. I’m not going anywhere,” I promised as I rubbed her back.

  I’d seen Darla at some low points over the past few years, but this was on a whole other level. I had no idea how long we sat like that, her crying her eyes out and begging me not to let her go as she clung to me like I was a life raft in the middle of the ocean, and me promising over and over again that I was here and not going anywhere.

  Finally, she stopped shaking and her tears slowed, but we still just sat there in silence until it got dark outside and the apartment was almost pitch black.

  “Baby, can you let me up so I can turn on a light?” I asked quietly.

  Darla took a shaky breath and released her hold on me, pulling back slowly. “Don’t go.”

  For the thousandth time, I wondered what on Earth had happened to her tonight. She’d never been this clingy before. Wanting me to hold her wasn’t anything new, but begging me not to leave? Verbalizing her need for me to keep holding her? That was new. Not that I minded; it was one of my favorite things to do. But it did worry me. A lot.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” I promised. “I’m not even leaving this room. I’m just going to go turn the light on so we’re not sitting in the dark.”

  She took a shallow breath as she nodded and climbed off my lap. I quickly went to the other side of the room and flipped the light switch, then walked back over and sank onto the couch. She immediately crawled back onto my lap, this time sitting sideways and curling up against my chest.

  “Can you tell me what happened, baby?” I murmured.

  “I didn’t even do anything wrong,” she sniffled, tightening her arms around my neck. “I didn’t.”

  I hated that she always felt the need to explain to me exactly what she’d done – or, more often than not lately, hadn’t done – before telling me what her father did to her. Like she was trying to justify his actions. Or explain why she was so upset about it. Because the reality was, it didn’t matter if she was sacrificing chickens and goats and had a shrine built to Lucifer in her bedroom. Nothing excused the marks he left on her body. Nothing excused the vitriol that he spewed at her. What he was doing was illegal, and I wished like hell that she’d talk to the police, but she was too scared that they wouldn’t believe her and it would just end up making things worse, so I knew I had to respect that.

  “I don’t care if you did do something wrong,” I told her. “There is absolutely nothing you could have done that would make him scaring you this much okay.”

  “I was…I finally got around to refinishing my craft table,” she started. “But I was a klutz and spilled the wood polish everywhere. Like, it was all over the table, the carpet, and me. So I used what I could on the table, and then my mom steam-cleaned my carpet for me while I went to take a shower. A-and then…wh-when I w-walked out of the b-bathroom…m-my dad stormed i-into the house and st-started screaming at me a-at the t-top of his lungs. I gu-I guess h-he saw s-someone who looked like me…do-doing stuff with s-some guy i-in an alley.”

  My jaw clenched and my teeth started to grind as I put the pieces together in my head.

  God damn it all to Hell. That jackass who called himself my boss had been responsible for this? All because he couldn’t keep it in his pants and had to have Darla’s doppelganger get on her knees for him in full view of a public street?

  Frank was lucky that my uncle was planning on firing him, because if I ever saw him again, I was going to beat the fucking shit out of him for this. I didn’t care why he’d done it. I didn’t care that he had no idea about the damage it would cause. Because he’d been stupid and reckless and unprofessional, my girlfriend’s father had hurt her. And there was no excuse for that. None. I wasn’t a violent person, but when it came to Darla, all bets were off.

  “God damn it,” I muttered before I could stop myself.

  “H-he started yelling a-at me, spouting a-all this st-stuff about me b-being a ha-harlot and a Jezebel,” Darla said through her tears. It seemed like she was right back in the moment, living it all over again, because she didn’t even acknowledge my mindless utterance. “I t-tried to w-walk p-past him i-into my room s-so I-I could put some clothes on, b-because I w-was still j-just wr-wrapped in a t-towel, b-but he g-grabbed me a-and threw me ag-against the wall. The t-towel f-fell, and wh-when I went to g-grab it, he k-kicked it a-away.”

  I froze, tightening my hold on her so much that I actually worried it might be hurting her.

  Please, God, no, I begged silently. Please.

  He’d kicked the towel away. She was completely fucking naked and he’d actually stopped her from covering herself. He wanted her that exposed and vulnerable. I didn’t even know if I wanted to hear the rest. I honestly didn’t know what I’d do if my worst fears had been realized. If his abuse had stopped just being physical and t
urned sexual.

  “I cr-crouched d-down a-and c-curled into a b-ball,” she sobbed. “I t-tried to c-cover my-myself as much as I c-could b-because I d-didn’t want h-him s-seeing me l-like that. B-but he…he…”

  She broke down in tears again, and I swallowed the lump in my throat, but I couldn’t stop tears from leaking out of my eyes too.

  “Take your time, baby,” I sniffled, trying to steel myself for what I was sure was coming. “You’re safe now. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

  “He d-didn’t,” she choked out. “But he a-almost did. He w-walked o-over to me a-and p-pulled me up and pr-pressed me a-against the w-wall, like th-three inches f-from my face. And I…I c-could…I could f-feel what it w-was d-doing to him, seeing m-me l-like that.”

  Fuck.

  For years, I’d seen how her father looked at her. Like she was a possession rather than a human being. I knew she would have told me if he’d touched her before now, and this was the first time I’d ever heard of him doing something like this. But that didn’t mean that I hadn’t lived in fear of it every single day for almost four years. And now…well, if it hadn’t happened, it had come way too close for my comfort.

  “Dar, did…did he…” I trailed off, unable to even bring myself to vocalize my greatest fear.

  “No,” she said quickly. “He started whispering a Bible verse to me about how adulterous women think they’re not doing anything wrong, and then my mom came out and yelled at him. And I swear, it was like he was mad at her for interrupting him. H-he just…he, like, stalked toward her, and when my mom told him that I was at home all afternoon, he h-hit her so hard that sh-she stumbled into the wall. I’ve n-never seen him hit her before, Brendan. Ever. And he started to come back toward me, but my mom started grabbing at him and pulling on his shirt and begging him to believe her that I was home and not out doing what he thought I was doing. He kept saying that I’d been showering to wash away the evidence, and my mom told him to go look at my dirty clothes in the bathroom, because she had me keep them there so I wouldn’t get the polish on the rest of the laundry. As soon as he stormed into the bathroom, I ran to my room, got dressed, and then packed a bag and came here.”

  Thank You, Jesus, I prayed, sighing in relief.

  Not that this was good. Not by any stretch of the imagination. This was completely fucking terrifying. What happened today would stay with Darla, in some way, for the rest of her life. But it wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been.

  “You’re safe now, baby,” I told her, pressing my lips to her forehead. “He can’t hurt you anymore.”

  “I can’t…I can’t go back there, Brendan,” she bawled. “I can’t. If my mom hadn’t been there…if she hadn’t stopped him…”

  She didn’t finish the sentence, but she didn’t need to. I knew all too well what would have happened if her mom hadn’t been there. Her father was a predator, in every sense of the word. When she was younger, he’d preyed on her weakness and vulnerability by hurting her physically. But now, she was a woman. Now, he saw her as a different kind of prey.

  And it was because he saw her in a different light now that I knew she was right. She couldn’t go back there. But it wasn’t safe for her to stay here forever either. It was only a matter of time before he’d figure out where she was and come here looking for her. He didn’t know where I lived, but my mom did. And since my mom worshiped the ground he walked on, it wouldn’t take any coaxing at all for him to get the address from her.

  “You’re not going back,” I agreed. “You’re going to stay here until we come up with a better plan, but…”

  “But you and I both know this would be one of the first places he looked,” she sniffled, tightening her hold on me a little more. “And if he found me here…I honestly don’t know what he’d do once he dragged me back to the house.” She froze and her breathing picked up again, coming in short gasps as she choked on her tears. “Oh, God. I can’t…I can’t go back to church. I can’t go to any church at all. All the pastors know him. I can’t…God forgive me, I can’t.”

  She broke down in tears all over again, and I pulled her as close as I could and kissed her hair.

  Pastor Jones always reminded his congregation that an important part of a person’s relationship with the Lord was coming to church and “being nourished by the Word of God,” as he called it. And if he was that insistent with everyone about it, I could only imagine how much he’d drummed that idea into his daughter’s head.

  Had it been weird not being able to go to church every Sunday since I’d started my job? Yeah, it had. But I’d lived. I went when I could, when I wasn’t working on a job, but that averaged out to maybe three times a month. But I still had the college Bible study guide that Peter had given me as a high school graduation gift and I still did the suggested reading every day. I still prayed every day, mostly for the sobbing girl who was clinging to me like I was her only lifeline right now. And, if anything, I felt like my relationship with God was stronger now than ever, because I wasn’t constantly hearing the half-truths and partial Scriptures that Darla’s father barked at everyone on a weekly basis. I was able to read the Bible and study it in the way that would help me the most.

  “Baby, your relationship with God doesn’t depend on being in a building or listening to a minister twice a week,” I said. “He knows exactly what you’re going through right now. He saw what happened with your father today, and He understands why you can’t be there. I have to believe that. I know you, Dar. Your faith is stronger than that. I know you’re still going to be reading your Bible every day and doing the guided studies in your devotional book. You’re still going to pray every day. That’s more important than not being able to go sit in a building and listen to someone else read the same Bible you already own and interpret it the way they see fit for a few months.”

  “I can’t go back. Ever,” she choked out. “Not even after I turn eighteen. Me being a year older won’t matter to him. He’ll still drag me back home.”

  Oh, no, he wouldn’t. Because I was going to marry her as soon as it was legal. And it wouldn’t matter what her father had to say after that. He could try to come and drag her back home, but the only way he’d ever get her back under his roof again would be over my dead body.

  “No, he won’t,” I promised. “I’m not asking you right now, because you deserve so much better than that, but I am promising you that you and I have a date at the courthouse on your eighteenth birthday. The second you’re a legal adult, we’re getting married, and then I don’t give a shit if he knows where you are or not. If he tries to come and take you after that, he’ll have to kill me first.”

  “No,” she whimpered, curling up even smaller. “No.”

  Damn it. I shouldn’t have said that. Especially not tonight, of all nights. She felt safe with me. I shouldn’t have ruined that by making her think about what would happen if I was gone.

  “I’m a lot tougher than I look, baby,” I promised, tilting her chin up so she’d look at me. “And what you and I have together? My love for you? There’s nothing that can break that bond. There isn’t a force in the whole universe that’s powerful enough to take me away from you or make me stop loving you.”

  Instead of saying anything, Darla just crashed her lips to mine. And I poured every ounce of my love into this connection, praying that it was enough to erase the wounds her father had inflicted on her.

  Chapter 22

  Darla

  Only Hope

  “When’s the last time you ate something, Dar?” Brendan asked quietly.

  I thought for a second, and as my stomach started to growl, I realized that I’d skipped lunch today. But I was so exhausted that I didn’t know if I even had the energy to eat. Now that I knew I was safe, at least for tonight, I just wanted to rest.

  “Breakfast,” I sighed.

  “How do you feel about ordering a pizza? You need to eat.”

  “I’m…I’m just tired,” I mumbled, turning my fac
e into his shirt.

  “Eating and resting aren’t mutually exclusive,” he said, pressing a kiss to my head. “Did you bring something to sleep in?”

  Crap. I hadn’t. I’d literally just grabbed clothes to go to school in.

  I shook my head. “I wasn’t really thinking that far ahead when I was packing. I just…I just knew I needed to get out of there before he could realize I was gone.”

  “I’ve got you covered,” he chuckled, kissing my forehead. “Let me up.”

  Reluctantly, I moved off of his lap, and he went into his bedroom, emerging less than a minute later with one of his t-shirts.

  “This shirt’s huge on me, so you’ll end up swimming in it. You can use it for a nightshirt until we can figure something else out. Go ahead and get changed, and I’m going to order a pizza. We’ll eat and watch some TV in the bedroom until you fall asleep.”

  I couldn’t help the fresh round of tears that sprang to my eyes. I knew how clingy and needy I was being right now, but he was just taking it all in stride, and I got the distinct impression that he was as scared of what had happened to me today as I was.

  Brendan set the shirt down on the couch, gently grabbed my hands, and pulled me up. He cupped my face in his hands and gave me a soft kiss that was full of so much love and tenderness that it made me choke down yet another sob.

  “No more tears, baby,” he whispered against my lips. “I know you’re scared and everything’s up in the air right now, but believe me when I say that we will figure something out. Not tonight, though. Tonight, you’re just going to rest and know that you’re out of that house, with a man who would do anything to keep you safe.”

  I let out a quiet whimper as I used every ounce of my willpower to stop myself from crying, and then I stood on my toes and kissed him again. He pulled me close as he deepened it, and I just lost myself in the sense of security and certainty I always felt when I was with him.