The Betrothed
Part 30
Angela headed straight towards Abby and Darrick’s room as quickly as her aging joints would allow. She wasn’t sure what she would tell her young friend once she got there; she wasn’t completely sure what it was she had just seen. Half a year with him living here, she thought, and I’ve never seen him behave like that. He was like a completely different person. He’s always doted on Abby, and I’ve seen him dodge Carmen like the plague. And then he runs right to her as soon as his wife is a little under the weather? And that wild look in his eyes. It’s like a completely different person took his place. And what should I tell Abby? I warned her about that Jezebel, but I can’t say ‘I told you so’. That’s the last thing she needs. Oh, this’ll kill her.
To twist the knife even further, she heard muffled sobs even before she opened their door. Bracing herself, she walked in to see Abby curled up on the couch, crying into a pillow, her wiry body shaking with the force of them. At the sound of the opening door, however, her head shot up with a hopeful expression. It broke Angela’s heart to see it crash with disappointment as soon as she recognized her visitor.
“Oh, poor dear,” Angela said, hurrying to Abby’s side, pulling a handkerchief from her pocket to wipe the tears from the young woman’s face. She was reaching out to apply the elegant piece of cloth when she noticed the red mark on Abby’s cheek. A red mark in the shape of a palm. Angela almost couldn’t believe her eyes, but the imprint was clear, red and raw. Soon, it would begin to turn purple. The hand holding the handkerchief clenched into a fist. “Abby, what happened? Did he do this to you?” Abby’s only response was to burst back into tears and collapse into Angela’s waiting arms.
For a few minutes, Angela simply held her weeping, shattered friend. There was nothing else she could do. I can’t tell her about Carmen, not right now. That’s not really important anyway. Not next to this. Eventually, she regained the presence of mind to gently stroke her hair, making comforting noises all the while. The lack of words began to get to her after a while, though, and she searched for something to say.
“I’m so, so sorry, Abby,” she started. “I can’t believe he did this. Poor girl, to hide from an abusive boyfriend only to be abused by your husband. You don’t deserve such rotten luck.” But Abby was shaking her head violently, her words muffled by Angela’s shoulder. “What was that, dear?”
“Not true . . . so sorry . . . lied to you . . . no boyfriend.” Abby’s words were broken up and made incoherent by her sobs, but they continued to pour out of her, as though released from a long captivity, to Angela’s increasing surprise and alarm. “Never had . . . boyfriend before Darrick . . . parents picked him when we were young . . . we ran away . . .”
“Wait a minute,” Angela said, turning Abby’s face to meet hers, not quite believing what she thought she had heard. “Are you telling me your parents forced you into this?” Angela’s anger now had a new target. How can any parent do this to their child, force her to marry a monster! But Abby was shaking her head again.
“No . . . wanted him . . . bonded . . .” Her words again degenerated into sobbing, and she slid down into a slump.
“I don’t understand,” Angela said. “Is this something your people do? But Darrick’s American, I thought. Are you in a cult?” Only increasingly frantic weeping answered her. “Well, this can’t be legal. I’m going to call the police.” She reached for her cell phone, but stopped when Abby’s hand shot out and latched on to her arm.
“No!” she said, a wild look of panic on her face. She paused a moment to regain her breath and speak again through her tears. “Trust you. Can’t tell anyone. Must stay secret.”
“Abby, the police need to know about this. Your family or cult or whatever can’t keep doing this to their children.” But Abby kept shaking her head, to Angela’s frustration.
“Promise,” Abby said. “Promise me.” She looked so desperate that Angela didn’t have the heart to refuse her request, not completely.
“Fine. I promise I won’t tell. For now.” At Abby’s look of alarm, she amended, “Until you’re feeling better. Then we’ll talk about it. Okay?”
“Thank you,” Abby said, then lay back down on the couch, her further words descending into a muttered mixture of talk and tears. “Can’t tell. They’ll find us. Must let Darrick go. Yes, for the best. No good. Oh, please be quiet. Get out of my head. Yes, I know. You’re right . . .” Angela couldn’t make heads or tails of any of it, and after a minute or so, the distinct words blended together into a continuous mumble which eventually faded away, Abby’s face pointed into the seat cushion. All the tension visibly faded from Abby’s body.
Oh, good, she’s asleep. That’s the best thing for her right now. Things will look better to her in the morning. They always do. Angela reached over to switch off the still-running television, then pulled a chair out from the table, intending to wait until her friend woke up or Darrick returned, whichever came first.
It was several hours later that Abby gasped loudly, awakening Angela from a sound if rather uncomfortable sleep in the chair. Abby’s eyes were open, and she lay staring, oddly still.
“Did you have a bad dream?” Angela asked, rising stiffly. “It’s okay. You’ll be alright.” There was no response. “Abby?” Nothing. Worried, Angela gently prodded her friend, to no avail. Abby just continued to stare off into space, no matter how Angela tried to reach her. Abby was breathing, but showed no other signs of life.
The caller ID on Roger’s cell phone showed a number he didn’t recognize; even the area code was unfamiliar. Curious, he flipped it open.
“Hello?”
“Roger! How ya doin’?! I’ve missed ya, man!”
Roger could barely believe his ears. “Darrick! Wha . . . how . . . what’s going on?”
“I’m in Atlanta!” Something twitched at the back of Roger’s mind, but he couldn’t quite identify it. “I’m going out partying with a hot girl and I thought you’d love to get in on that! Come on down!”
“Atlanta!” Roger managed to stammer through his shock, his brain feeling two steps behind in this conversation. “That’s hundreds of miles away. I can’t just ‘come down’. Are you feeling alright? You sound really hyped up.”
“I’m feeling great! Better than I’ve felt in ages! Carmen and I are going clubbing all night!” Roger could hear a woman’s laughter in the background.
“Carmen? I thought your wife’s name was Abby?” None of this was making any sense to him, and Darrick was beginning to worry him. Nothing for six months, as per his own word the last time they had talked, and now here he was, calling him up out of the blue – six months ahead of schedule – and talking nonsense in a very loud, excited voice. What’s happening to him down there? Is this what those people have done to him?
“Oh, Abby’s being a stick-in-the-mud tonight, so I’m going out with Carmen instead. It’s a shame you can’t come down, man.” Now Roger really could not believe his ears. Sure, Darrick could run through girlfriends like a hypoglycemic through a candy shop, but he had never known him to be unfaithful to one while they were still together. He was starting to be seriously concerned.
“Darrick, are you sure you’re okay?” Darrick laughed on the other end.
“I’m fine! Better than fine! Sorry you can’t join us. Gotta go now. Talk to ya soon!” The line went dead to the sound of more wild feminine laughs and playful cries. Roger closed his phone, wondering what the hell had just happened. Then, in response to an urge of unknown origin, he flipped it open and dialed a number that sprang into his head unbidden. What am I doing?
“Hello?” A man’s voice, tired.
“Darrick’s in Atlanta.” What’s going on? Roger had never experienced anything like this before; he thought he should be terrified, but instead he felt oddly numb, almost robotic. On the other end of the phone, there was a long silence, followed by a huge sigh of relief.
“Thank you,” the voice said in a tone of utter sincerity. “May the gods bless you, son. Did he call you?”
“Yes.” Roger desperately wanted to stop, to hang up his phone, but his voice and his hands wouldn’t obey.
“Can you give me the number?”
Roger rattled it off from memory, even though he had only given it a passing glance.
“Oh, wonderful, wonderful,” the voice said. “Listen to me carefully. I’m sure right now that you think you’ve betrayed your friend, and you’ll probably feel horrible about it later. I’m telling you right now, don’t. You haven’t betrayed Darrick. You’ve saved him. You’ve saved all of us.” Suddenly, Roger felt himself released from the strange compulsion, back in control of his own voice and body.
“Wait, wait, please!” he got out as quickly as he could. “Who are you? What’s going on? What did you do to me?”
“You were just following instructions, Roger. You did a great job. Everything will be fine now. Now hang up and go back to whatever it was you were doing before.”
And Roger did exactly that.
Richard Dawson hung up the phone, a sensation of profound relief and hope suffusing his body. Thank the gods I thought of using Roger. After Abby and Darrick had left, their parents had been certain that they had told their friends more than they had wanted to admit. But both Meredith and Roger had remained firm in their insistence that they didn’t know any more than anyone else. So Richard had left Roger with instructions to call should he ever learn Darrick’s location, instructions he could neither resist nor remember. And after six months of waiting, of all their other trails leading nowhere, his idea had finally bourn fruit. There was still a lot of work left to be done, but now they had a fighting chance. But not much time, he thought, remembering the latest news reports he had seen. The situation in the East was about to blow wide open, maybe literally. They had to work quickly.
Picking up his phone once again, he began the task of contacting everyone to let them know what he had found. They had to make their plans quickly.
Part 30
Angela headed straight towards Abby and Darrick’s room as quickly as her aging joints would allow. She wasn’t sure what she would tell her young friend once she got there; she wasn’t completely sure what it was she had just seen. Half a year with him living here, she thought, and I’ve never seen him behave like that. He was like a completely different person. He’s always doted on Abby, and I’ve seen him dodge Carmen like the plague. And then he runs right to her as soon as his wife is a little under the weather? And that wild look in his eyes. It’s like a completely different person took his place. And what should I tell Abby? I warned her about that Jezebel, but I can’t say ‘I told you so’. That’s the last thing she needs. Oh, this’ll kill her.
To twist the knife even further, she heard muffled sobs even before she opened their door. Bracing herself, she walked in to see Abby curled up on the couch, crying into a pillow, her wiry body shaking with the force of them. At the sound of the opening door, however, her head shot up with a hopeful expression. It broke Angela’s heart to see it crash with disappointment as soon as she recognized her visitor.
“Oh, poor dear,” Angela said, hurrying to Abby’s side, pulling a handkerchief from her pocket to wipe the tears from the young woman’s face. She was reaching out to apply the elegant piece of cloth when she noticed the red mark on Abby’s cheek. A red mark in the shape of a palm. Angela almost couldn’t believe her eyes, but the imprint was clear, red and raw. Soon, it would begin to turn purple. The hand holding the handkerchief clenched into a fist. “Abby, what happened? Did he do this to you?” Abby’s only response was to burst back into tears and collapse into Angela’s waiting arms.
For a few minutes, Angela simply held her weeping, shattered friend. There was nothing else she could do. I can’t tell her about Carmen, not right now. That’s not really important anyway. Not next to this. Eventually, she regained the presence of mind to gently stroke her hair, making comforting noises all the while. The lack of words began to get to her after a while, though, and she searched for something to say.
“I’m so, so sorry, Abby,” she started. “I can’t believe he did this. Poor girl, to hide from an abusive boyfriend only to be abused by your husband. You don’t deserve such rotten luck.” But Abby was shaking her head violently, her words muffled by Angela’s shoulder. “What was that, dear?”
“Not true . . . so sorry . . . lied to you . . . no boyfriend.” Abby’s words were broken up and made incoherent by her sobs, but they continued to pour out of her, as though released from a long captivity, to Angela’s increasing surprise and alarm. “Never had . . . boyfriend before Darrick . . . parents picked him when we were young . . . we ran away . . .”
“Wait a minute,” Angela said, turning Abby’s face to meet hers, not quite believing what she thought she had heard. “Are you telling me your parents forced you into this?” Angela’s anger now had a new target. How can any parent do this to their child, force her to marry a monster! But Abby was shaking her head again.
“No . . . wanted him . . . bonded . . .” Her words again degenerated into sobbing, and she slid down into a slump.
“I don’t understand,” Angela said. “Is this something your people do? But Darrick’s American, I thought. Are you in a cult?” Only increasingly frantic weeping answered her. “Well, this can’t be legal. I’m going to call the police.” She reached for her cell phone, but stopped when Abby’s hand shot out and latched on to her arm.
“No!” she said, a wild look of panic on her face. She paused a moment to regain her breath and speak again through her tears. “Trust you. Can’t tell anyone. Must stay secret.”
“Abby, the police need to know about this. Your family or cult or whatever can’t keep doing this to their children.” But Abby kept shaking her head, to Angela’s frustration.
“Promise,” Abby said. “Promise me.” She looked so desperate that Angela didn’t have the heart to refuse her request, not completely.
“Fine. I promise I won’t tell. For now.” At Abby’s look of alarm, she amended, “Until you’re feeling better. Then we’ll talk about it. Okay?”
“Thank you,” Abby said, then lay back down on the couch, her further words descending into a muttered mixture of talk and tears. “Can’t tell. They’ll find us. Must let Darrick go. Yes, for the best. No good. Oh, please be quiet. Get out of my head. Yes, I know. You’re right . . .” Angela couldn’t make heads or tails of any of it, and after a minute or so, the distinct words blended together into a continuous mumble which eventually faded away, Abby’s face pointed into the seat cushion. All the tension visibly faded from Abby’s body.
Oh, good, she’s asleep. That’s the best thing for her right now. Things will look better to her in the morning. They always do. Angela reached over to switch off the still-running television, then pulled a chair out from the table, intending to wait until her friend woke up or Darrick returned, whichever came first.
It was several hours later that Abby gasped loudly, awakening Angela from a sound if rather uncomfortable sleep in the chair. Abby’s eyes were open, and she lay staring, oddly still.
“Did you have a bad dream?” Angela asked, rising stiffly. “It’s okay. You’ll be alright.” There was no response. “Abby?” Nothing. Worried, Angela gently prodded her friend, to no avail. Abby just continued to stare off into space, no matter how Angela tried to reach her. Abby was breathing, but showed no other signs of life.
* * * * *
The caller ID on Roger’s cell phone showed a number he didn’t recognize; even the area code was unfamiliar. Curious, he flipped it open.
“Hello?”
“Roger! How ya doin’?! I’ve missed ya, man!”
Roger could barely believe his ears. “Darrick! Wha . . . how . . . what’s going on?”
“I’m in Atlanta!” Something twitched at the back of Roger’s mind, but he couldn’t quite identify it. “I’m going out partying with a hot girl and I thought you’d love to get in on that! Come on down!”
“Atlanta!” Roger managed to stammer through his shock, his brain feeling two steps behind in this conversation. “That’s hundreds of miles away. I can’t just ‘come down’. Are you feeling alright? You sound really hyped up.”
“I’m feeling great! Better than I’ve felt in ages! Carmen and I are going clubbing all night!” Roger could hear a woman’s laughter in the background.
“Carmen? I thought your wife’s name was Abby?” None of this was making any sense to him, and Darrick was beginning to worry him. Nothing for six months, as per his own word the last time they had talked, and now here he was, calling him up out of the blue – six months ahead of schedule – and talking nonsense in a very loud, excited voice. What’s happening to him down there? Is this what those people have done to him?
“Oh, Abby’s being a stick-in-the-mud tonight, so I’m going out with Carmen instead. It’s a shame you can’t come down, man.” Now Roger really could not believe his ears. Sure, Darrick could run through girlfriends like a hypoglycemic through a candy shop, but he had never known him to be unfaithful to one while they were still together. He was starting to be seriously concerned.
“Darrick, are you sure you’re okay?” Darrick laughed on the other end.
“I’m fine! Better than fine! Sorry you can’t join us. Gotta go now. Talk to ya soon!” The line went dead to the sound of more wild feminine laughs and playful cries. Roger closed his phone, wondering what the hell had just happened. Then, in response to an urge of unknown origin, he flipped it open and dialed a number that sprang into his head unbidden. What am I doing?
“Hello?” A man’s voice, tired.
“Darrick’s in Atlanta.” What’s going on? Roger had never experienced anything like this before; he thought he should be terrified, but instead he felt oddly numb, almost robotic. On the other end of the phone, there was a long silence, followed by a huge sigh of relief.
“Thank you,” the voice said in a tone of utter sincerity. “May the gods bless you, son. Did he call you?”
“Yes.” Roger desperately wanted to stop, to hang up his phone, but his voice and his hands wouldn’t obey.
“Can you give me the number?”
Roger rattled it off from memory, even though he had only given it a passing glance.
“Oh, wonderful, wonderful,” the voice said. “Listen to me carefully. I’m sure right now that you think you’ve betrayed your friend, and you’ll probably feel horrible about it later. I’m telling you right now, don’t. You haven’t betrayed Darrick. You’ve saved him. You’ve saved all of us.” Suddenly, Roger felt himself released from the strange compulsion, back in control of his own voice and body.
“Wait, wait, please!” he got out as quickly as he could. “Who are you? What’s going on? What did you do to me?”
“You were just following instructions, Roger. You did a great job. Everything will be fine now. Now hang up and go back to whatever it was you were doing before.”
And Roger did exactly that.
* * * * *
Richard Dawson hung up the phone, a sensation of profound relief and hope suffusing his body. Thank the gods I thought of using Roger. After Abby and Darrick had left, their parents had been certain that they had told their friends more than they had wanted to admit. But both Meredith and Roger had remained firm in their insistence that they didn’t know any more than anyone else. So Richard had left Roger with instructions to call should he ever learn Darrick’s location, instructions he could neither resist nor remember. And after six months of waiting, of all their other trails leading nowhere, his idea had finally bourn fruit. There was still a lot of work left to be done, but now they had a fighting chance. But not much time, he thought, remembering the latest news reports he had seen. The situation in the East was about to blow wide open, maybe literally. They had to work quickly.
Picking up his phone once again, he began the task of contacting everyone to let them know what he had found. They had to make their plans quickly.
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