Page 2 of Declan's Dove

Carter’s little face fell. My heart ached for my son to have a sibling, but the guilt I feel every day for bringing my son into this nightmare is difficult enough to bear.

“Carter, why don’t you kiss your mother then go watch tv until it’s time to leave for school.”

Carter did as he was told, warily watching us as he approached. James released me long enough to allow me to hug Carter to my chest and kiss the top of his head. When Carter pulled back out of my hold, his ever-observant eyes bounced between me and James. He’s a clever boy. He knows when his father is sending him away to keep him from being a witness. He’s a sheriff, and children lie all the time, or so he tells me all the time in warning.

I smile down at my boy and pray he knows how much I love him.

Carter heads into the living room and we hear the moment he turns the tv on and to his favorite morning show.

James roughly grabs my biceps and starts shoving me down the hallway and up the stairs to our bedroom. Once inside, he slams the door shut with his foot, spinning me around so hard I nearly fall to the floor, catching myself with one arm on the bed as he releases me.

I’ve nearly risen to my full height when James’s hand connects with my cheek, pain radiating across my face and around my eye. I stumbled back, and another blow came hard and fast to my stomach. Doubling over, I fall to my knees on the ground. I hear his belt release and the swish as he pulls it through the loops. I brace for the impact, but it doesn’t come. Confused, I foolishly look over my shoulder.

James loops his belt around my throat and threads it through the buckle. I sit up, grab for the leather, grasping and pulling, barely able to slide my fingers between the leather strap and my windpipe.

“Let’s see if we can’t get you pregnant before I leave for work, shall we? Then you can stop seeing that bitch of a doctor at the clinic because no one is going to take away what belongs to me. Do you understand, Violet?” He grits between his teeth, his face close to my ear.

He shuffles my leggings and panties down to my knees, trapping my calves between his thick, muscular thighs. I hear his zipper drawn down and try not to focus on what’s coming. My primary concern is the belt and not losing consciousness. If I blackout, I leave Carter at James’s mercy.

I’ll take whatever he wants to dish out on me, but I won’t let him hurt my son.

I scream inside my head.

James grabs my left arm, ripping it from under the leather belt and forcing it to fold behind my back, wrenching my shoulder as he does. My chest hits the floor, my head tilted back, my right arm caught underneath me, still gripping the belt. A sharp pain radiates across my left shoulder, up my neck, and down my arm.

I gag as the belt pulls tighter against my fingers, sending sharp tingling sensations through each digit. I gasp for breath as my peripheral vision starts to blacken.

Fight Violet! Fucking fight it! I scream inside my head.

Tears are streaming down my face. My breathing is shallow, but I’m still conscious as James thrusts himself inside me without warning. As my skin pulls, I feel the painful sting as he stretches me, thrusting in harder and harder with each stroke.

My eyes are nearly swollen shut, my head is throbbing as I fight to keep consciousness.

James roars with his release and my heart gives a slight flutter of relief that this is almost over.

He leans over, putting his full weight on my back. An animal like sound is ripped from my throat as pain extends from my shoulder down my spine.

James chuckles.

He releases the belt from my throat and moves off my body, standing to his feet. I hear him getting dressed, but I don’t move even the slightest muscle. Once his clothes are on, he uses his booted foot to turn me over onto my side. I whimper.

“Don’t let me catch you seeing that bitch doctor again. You need to see someone you go see Dr. Woodrow. You hear me?” He kicks my stomach, and I can’t help the scream that tears out of me. It’s a sharp, piercing sound and my head feels like it’s going to explode with the force it took to make the sound.

My throat feels like I’ve swallowed glass, and it’s all I can do to keep from passing out.

“Mama! Mama!” Carter shouts from the hallway, his little fists pounding on the wooden door frantically. He twists the knob, opening the door just as James is shouting for him to go downstairs—but it’s too late. Carter is standing in the doorway, staring down at my half naked, battered and used body lying on the floor. His father, standing over me, is furiously glaring at my boy.

“Carter, run!” I shout, but my voice is nothing but a scratchy whisper now.

James catches Carter in two strides, gripping Carter’s wrist in his meaty hand. Carter grabs at James’s fingers, trying to loosen his father’s grip. He’s crying, screaming at James to let him go.

“Mama! Mama! Help!” I push up with my right arm, getting myself to a sitting position.

“You stay the fuck down,” James bellows at me. “You move an inch and swear to God I’ll snap his wrist in two.”

I freeze.

“Okay. Okay, James,” I plead, my voice so quiet I’m not sure he can hear me over his own rage and my son’s crying.

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