“This is wrong,” she spits at him. “Those mistakes do not warrant this kind of punishment. Actually, I can’t see a situation where a grown man should be allowed to bend a woman over in front of an audience and spank her ass.”
Everyone in the room holds their breath. Fenris begins to walk toward her, his forced smile thins with each step. “You think you understand discipline, little girl?”
“You think you control what happens to those who fail to follow orders? Who defies god? Who defies this family?” He says family as if it means something. She doesn’t back down.
“You mean who defies you? This isn’t a family anyone would willingly be a part of.”
I look at her, my eyes are begging her to meet mine. I wish I could somehow reach her without a word. But she doesn’t even glance my way. She doesn’t know I’m watching, she doesn’t hear my silent pleas. “I think you’re a false prophet, a glorified TV evangelical that has sunk his dirty claws into gullible people because he has a hard on for power.” She points at him. “And you’re hiding behind your ‘order’ to control us. You think this is a lesson? This is just cruelty.”
His face hardens, and before I can blink his hand wraps around her wrist with crushing force. “You have no say in this,” he growls. I exhale, knowing what’s to come, of who’s in charge, of where her, and every other woman’s, place is.
I want to stand up, march over, pull her back, and stop this. But I know better. I know that would make it worse for her.
But there’s just something about her and the way she’s standing there, refusing to back down. It makes me feel something I haven’t felt in a long time. She’s not afraid of him, and that’s what scares me.
I watch his fingers dig into her wrist as he pulls her to the center of the room. The room is silent as everyone watches, and a lot of the women bow their heads. Catarina doesn’t go softly. I can’t. I repeat it over and over in my head. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.
He forces her to bend over, making sure her head is facing toward the crowd. He stands behind her, his shadow looming over her.
“Catarina, you will learn your place. Today. Right now. Your rebellion ends here, in his name.”
Even in the face of what’s about to happen she struggles against him.
He snaps his fingers and Brady scurries over. His face holds a smirk when he looks at me, and I mean really looks at me, and it’s then I know.
Say one more word and there will be consequences—those words from earlier ring in my ears, and I feel electricity jolt through my chest. Fenris looks at me, and my breaths still as my eyes follow his hand as he lifts it. I watch as he brings it down. It’s swift and hard. I swallow the bile and saliva making their way up my throat.
The sound causes a wave of sickness to roll through my gut. My stomach is tightening like it’s trying to turn inside out as his glare solidifies my suspicions. He would have shown her “grace”if it wasn’t for me. She probably would’ve just been escorted out, maybe given a few extra sessions with him; it’s only her first week.
It’s easier to make them submit if you can convince them it’s their idea.
I see the sting of the impact running through her body, but she doesn’t cry out. Her lips clamp down on one another so tightly, I’m worried her teeth will cut right through if she doesn’t loosen them. “Count,” Fenris orders, his voice thick with authority. I can see her swallow hard as she tries to keep her composure. There’s fire in her eyes, but I can also see the way her shoulders tense and the way her chest rises as she tries to suck in each shaky breath. He screams, his face red with anger and embarrassment. “I said count!”
The second slap comes, and it’s much harder this time. I hear her gasp as she inhales. “Two,” she spits out, her voice strained. I can’t look away. Every strike he lands feels like he’s hitting me too. Something vicious stirs in me. My hands curl against my thighs. I swallow down the urge to act, to explode. Every second I don’t move is the only protection I can give her right now. He hits her again.
"Three.” Her whispers are now barely words.
There’s pressure building in my skull and a terrible throbbing in my jaw where my teeth are grinding together. I want to destroy everything and everyone in this room, but I can’t.
He doesn’t stop. The slaps come faster and harder. Each time she counts them her voice becomes thinner. I can see that she’s in pain by the weight pulling her posture down. She’s trying her hardest not to break, and I can’t look away.
I whisper under my breath knowing no one can hear me through the slaps filling the room. “Hold on. Don’t let him takethis from you.”I picture myself kneeling before her.“Stay with me. You’re still you. He doesn’t get to take that.”
He stops and steps back. Sweat beads along his forehead. He fishes out a handkerchief from his shirt pocket before dabbing it away. He looks down at her with a cruel smirk. “You’re learning.” He looks at me, and I feel my blood turn to ice in my veins. “But it’s not enough, yet."
“Zedediah.” He snaps his fingers. “Come here.” For a split second, I pause. Every part of me wants to refuse, but I can’t not in front of everyone—especially not in front of him.
Slowly, I stand, and all I can think about is the last time I felt confident and decided to question his authority. My legs feel heavy as I walk up, standing next to her. Catarina’s tear-rimmed eyes flick up to meet mine. They’re full of hate, but there’s something else behind them too.
Whatever he thinks he’s breaking, he’s wrong. If the god he speaks of created this girl to be broken, they miscalculated. Because I’m staring into the face of someone that will not kneel. I don’t think this is something he’s going to beat out of her any time soon, even though he’ll try.
I glance at my father, who’s watching me, waiting. The walls of my chest feel like they’re caving in around my heart. I see his unspoken command and look down at Catarina, hoping she sees the apology in my eyes—the truth that I can’t say out loud. I don’t want to do this. That every part of me is screaming no.
Brady makes a slight movement to my right, and my father nods his head. It’s at this moment that I know I must do this. Because if not me, then who?
Brady.
Chapter Eight
