“Oh, my girl. My silly, silly girl. Don’t be foolish. Do you honestly think you can fight me? Come on now. I’m a man. It’s basic physics. You can’t overpower me.”
“You are not allowed to hit me,” I reiterated, trying to summon all the courage I could muster amid the implausible situation. He took another step toward me. I stepped back. This continued until my back was against the doorframe leading to the basement. My body shook in terror.
How could I be so afraid of the man I’m supposed to love?
It was as if I was living in a dream. Everything was surreal. My stomach rolled as I battled with the urge to vomit. I breathed deeply, in and out, focusing on the rise and fall of my chest. Once. Twice. Three times.
“That’s my girl. Deep breaths. Don’t you see? It’s better that you know the truth. I was getting tired of hiding it anyway. Going forward, instead of telling you I’m going to work, I’ll just tell you I’m going to meet Cynthia. Now there’s no need for me to sneak around,” he said softly.
His hand came up to caress my cheek, and I flinched. Pure instinct drove me to push it away, unable to stand his touch any longer—a foolish move, given my situation. It only angered him once again. He grabbed my arms, squeezing them so tight I thought the bones would break.
“Let go of me!” I yelled. “I’m done, Ethan! I’m leaving!”
His demonic laughter filled the room before he leveled a glare at me, and his eyes turned black as midnight.
“Do you honestly think I’d let you leave me?”
“I said let go of me, you bastard!” I repeated frantically. I fought him, struggling to free myself from his vice-like grip. The man before me was a stranger—a wolf in sheep’s skin. How could I have been so blind? How did I not know he was capable of such cruelty?
I stepped back to get away, completely forgetting I was so near to the basement stairs. My foot caught nothing but air and I began to fall. My back hit halfway down the stairs, knocking the air from my lungs as I tumbled the rest of the way down. Sprawled at the base, I couldn’t breathe.
And the pain.
Pain rocketed through my body, over my skin, until it felt like my internal organs were on fire.
“Ethan, I…” The whisper trailed off and I clutched my abdomen. That’s where the pain was the worst. It took me a minute before I remembered.
The baby.
My eyes slowly moved to the top of the staircase. Ethan stood there with a disgusted look, shaking his head.
“I’m going to meet Cynthia. Don’t do anything rash while I’m gone because I’ll know. Remember, I’m the Chief of Police. All the cops work for me. They won’t help you, Gianna. You and I both know it. You’ll only embarrass yourself.”
He disappeared from my line of sight, and a few seconds later, I heard the front door open and close. Wrapping my arms around myself, I curled into a fetal position and cried.
I didn’t know how long I stayed on the basement floor. Time ceased to exist as warm blood pooled between my legs. Was it bad a part of me would be relieved if the blood meant a miscarriage? How could I feel that when there were so many women who wished to be blessed with a baby? I knew no child should be brought into my world—at least not right now. Anxiety, hope, fear, confusion, and anger consumed me, the emotions swirling as I clung tight to the pain, unable to move.
Eventually, I crawled up the stairs. My vision was hazy and I wondered if I had hit my head on the way down. Sliding my broken body across the kitchen floor, I reached up to feel for my cell phone I’d left on the center island. Once I had it in hand, I propped myself up to a sitting position and leaned against the base.
I dialed the only person I knew I could trust.
“Nat, I need your help.”
6
Ethan
The moonlit night was unforgiving as I sat in my BMW parked across the street from my house. I watched the windows for any sign of movement inside. After about forty minutes, I saw Natalia’s car pull into the driveway.
So predictable.
I knew Gianna would call her, I just wasn’t one hundred percent sure what she would do next. I was fairly certain she wouldn’t call the police. They wouldn’t have believed her if she did. Convincing my guys at the precinct Gianna had mental issues would be a walk in the park. They’d seen all kinds of crazy females in their line of work. I just didn’t want the embarrassment or have to make pointless explanations. After tonight, I would have to monitor her better. I made a mental note to put a tap on her phone, so I never had to worry about such things down the road. I honestly couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought to do it sooner.
Natalia would probably tell her I was an abusive asshole. That was also predictable. Most people would agree with her on that front.
Most people were fucking idiots.
They didn’t know anything about me or my relationship with my wife. Too many drank the Kool-Aid, believing in this new-wave idea that men and women were created equal, having so easily forgotten how Eve was the one who led Adam to sin. It wasn’t Adam’s fault. For him, evil came when the path to good was so hidden, there was no other way.
Still, I thought it best to make a few calls to cancel Gianna’s credit cards in case she got any crazy ideas. Pulling out my wallet and cell, I dialed the first credit company.
“Thank you for calling Capital City Visa. This is Donna. How can I assist you today?”
“Hi, Donna. My name is Ethan Walker. My wife is a signer on my account and it appears she was a bit careless and lost her purse while out shopping this afternoon. I need to cancel her card just to be safe. You never know what kind of person may have picked it up.”
“I completely understand your concern, Mr. Walker. Give me just a moment and I’ll take care of that for you.”
Once I finished my call to Visa, I repeated the same story to American Express and Master Card. After completing the calls, I took one more glance at the house. All seemed quiet. I imagined my wife sitting at the kitchen table, complaining to Natalia about me. The mere idea of her saying anything negative about me caused my muscles to tense. Tossing my wallet and cell phone onto the passenger seat of the car, I gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white.
“Fucking bitch!” I hissed and started the ignition. Pulling away from the curb, I sped through the dark streets of Indian Hill toward Avondale.
After the long day, all I wanted to do was to come home, eat a quick meal, then head out to meet Cynthia at the condo I still kept on West 4th. I was glad I kept the place after my mother’s death. It had more than served its purpose. It had been weeks since I’d last felt Cynthia’s punishing strokes of ecstasy in the White Room, and I was long overdue. I just hadn’t planned on Gianna’s smart mouth to get in the way. Now my evening was ruined, having had to cancel with Cynthia in order to keep an eye on my foolish wife.
Twenty minutes later, I arrived at the tiny flat in Avondale. A homeless man laid on the steps leading up to the building. His presence pissed me off. Shit like that was the reason why Avondale had a bad reputation among most Cincinnatians—that and the higher than average crime rate.
“Get the fuck out of here!” I growled at the filthy lump. He was wearing tattered army fatigues—but that didn’t make him a soldier. Oh, no. I knew this type—always looking for a handout. He probably got the outfit from the local AMVETS thinking the garb would gain him sympathy from strangers.