Chapter 1 #2
“No! Let me go! Please. Stan, let go!” She screamed and lashed out with terror driving her body to escape, but she was no match for his strength.
His fist connected with her jaw, sending her sprawling.
Another hit, this time in her ribs. She curled inward, wrapping her arms around her swollen stomach, desperately trying to shield the life inside her with every ounce of strength she had left.
“Stop!” she sobbed, her voice breaking. “For God’s sake. You’ll hurt her!”
The laugh he spat out was cold and malicious. “That’s the point, you stupid bitch.”
Sienna tried to scramble away but her fingers slipped on the marble floor. “Where do you think you’re going?” he snickered as he kicked her side so hard that the impact knocked the breath from her lungs.
“I beg you, s-stop.” She rolled, gasping for breath, but he was on her in an instant, straddling her hips to pin her wrists above her head.
“You’re mine,” he snarled with his breath hot against her face. “I warned you the day we entered into this relationship that I don’t share what’s mine.”
“It’s a child, your own flesh and blood!” No matter how she thrashed beneath him, he pushed down harder, crushing her under his bulk.
“Is that supposed to fucking matter?” His eyes glimmered with dark intent. “Especially when I don’t give a fuck.”
“Noo! For god’s sake, Stan… no!” Her screams were raw as her struggles increased, fed by pure terror and desperation. Her eyes were locked on the knife he suddenly held in his hand. A long, thin, gleaming rapier.
“It’s time, slut,” he snarled as his fingers curled around the hilt. “You refuse my demands, then you don’t get to keep it.” His voice was eerily calm. “Because all you need in your life is me.”
“No! Let me go!” Her voice echoed raw and desperate throughout the room. He backhanded her, the force of it snapping her head to the side and blurring her vision, but she kicked, twisted, and fought with everything she had.
It wasn’t enough.
“Oh, Jesus!” she yowled as the blade sliced against her shoulder.
The cut was fire, searing through her flesh all the way down to her elbow.
Crying and begging, she twisted away, but he slashed again.
The sharp knife ruthlessly left cuts across her breasts.
Her pleas became desperate as blood welled from the wounds, soaking into her clothes.
“Stan, please, STOP!”
He didn’t hear her. Or he just didn’t care. Or perhaps bloodlust had taken over. The knife flashed, and then the true agony started.
Stan didn’t just cut. He unmade her.
The first slash was a betrayal of her own body as her skin, which had stretched and softened to make room for the life inside her, now split like overripe fruit.
The blade was cold, then hot… then nothing, because the nerves in her abdomen short-circuited, overwhelmed by the sheer wrongness of the violation.
She screamed until her throat felt like it tore.
Her body registered the invasion while her mind struggled to process the absolute cruelty of it.
The sanctuary she had created, the sacred space where her child grew, was being torn apart.
She fought with primal desperation, clawing at him even as darkness crept at the edges of her vision.
His cold laughter cut deeper than the blade.
Then came the moment, that terrible, eternal moment, when she felt a shift inside her, a tiny, panicked flinch, and then there was… silence.
The silence wasn’t just the absence of sound. It was the absence of everything. Of the future, of hope, and of life itself.
The third cut was the one that broke her. The knife went deeper. Warm liquid soaked through her clothes, carrying away more than just blood. It carried away dreams, possibilities, love… everything that made her whole. Her child. Her daughter. Gone.
“Nooo! No-no-no!” Sienna’s screams were raw primal agony as her hands flew to her violated body, trying helplessly to hold herself together, to keep what was left of her as if she could seal the wound, as if she could put the innocent little life back inside.
But it was too late. The emptiness wasn’t just physical.
It hollowed out her soul, leaving nothing but echoing devastation.
She couldn’t scream anymore. She vomited—a dry, heaving retch, because her body couldn’t decide which violation to expel first.
But her daughter was gone. And the pain? The pain was everywhere. It radiated from the wound, yes, but also from the void—the place where her baby had been, was now just… empty. A negative space… a missing.
Sienna didn’t scream. She howled. It was a sound beyond pain, beyond grief. It was the melody of a soul shattering and of a mother’s heart being torn from her body. Stan’s laughter barely registered. She was already gone, retreating deep inside herself where even he couldn’t reach her.
Sienna finally gave over to the darkness, knowing that although her wounds would heal, leaving scars and burying her in pain, they’d become ghosts that would roam her soul forever.
A bird’s squawk shattered the stillness in a staccato, guttural gugugug, cak-cak-cak…
a broken melody torn from its throat as it sat on a branch high in the ponderosa pine.
The sound yanked Sienna from the suffocating grip of her memories, dragging her back to the present with a violence that left her breathless.
She was still gathering herself when the floodgates opened. The first time since the incident.
Tears that were raw and filled with sorrow spilled over.
Her shoulders shook with silent, wracking sobs with her breath coming in ragged, uneven puffs.
For a moment, she was back in that room, back in the wet, tearing give of her own flesh, and drowning in the silence that followed when the world stopped moving.
“Will the pain ever go away?” The words escaped her lips in a prayer, a desperate whisper tossed into the void, hoping that someone, anyone, might answer.
She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, but the tears kept coming, as if her body had decided it would rather drown than continue to carry the hurt.
Blinded by grief, she stumbled toward the hiking path.
The world around her had dissolved into a watercolor painting left in the rain—all smudged edges and bleeding colors.
She failed to see the rock jutting from the ground and the next moment, she was falling.
Her scream of pain chased her as she crashed against a boulder.
Agony tore through her as already bruised ribs cracked against the rock like kindling, and the wound on her arm tore open.
The pain was a beast with claws, and it sank them deep into her side, her shoulder, even her soul.
She clutched at the wound on her arm. Without having to look, she knew the stitches had come undone.
She could feel the warm, slick rush of blood seeping between her fingers.
“Maybe this is it.” The thought slithered into her mind, in a dark and seductive notion. “I’ll just lie here and bleed to death.”
It would be so easy. No more running. No more hiding.
No more waking in the dead of night, drenched in sweat, or her hands flying to her stomach, searching for a heartbeat that was no longer there.
Stan had placed his goons outside the hospital room, promising worse should she utter one word to the police.
Escape and running had been her only option for survival, to one day being able to make him pay.
“I don’t deserve to live.” The guilt was a noose around her neck, tightening with every breath. “I didn’t protect her. I’m just as guilty as he is.” The words tasted like ash on her tongue.
Overcome with fear, bile rose inside her at the sound of crunching footsteps and twigs snapping close by.
“Are you okay… good lord! You’re bleeding. Daddy! Get over here! Quickly!”
Sienna stared unblinking at the young brunette rushing toward her. Relief washed over her. It wasn’t him.
“No need to shout, angel. I’m far from deaf.” The response came in a deep, calm voice threaded with quiet amusement.
“Gmphf. Some days I wonder.” The woman fussed over Sienna while responding over her shoulder.
“Careful, I might just decide to pick a switch from yonder tree and—”
His words cut off as he saw her. Sienna flinched. The man who knelt beside her was enormous—a bear of a man in red flannel and worn jeans.
“No!” Sienna whimpered. “Please, don’t hurt me!” For one terrible heartbeat, all she could see was him—Stan—in his red silk shirt, his cruel smile and the flash of the rapier. She pressed herself into the rough surface of the boulder, her body curling in on itself.
The man froze. “Easy. There’s no need to be alarmed.” Then, slowly, deliberately, he held up his hands with his palms open, and fingers spread, as if to prove he was unarmed.
“My name is Derek Hawkins, and this is my wife, Sadie.” His deep rumbling voice reminded her of distant thunder.
“You’ve wandered onto our property. This is Rawhide Ranch.
You’re hurt, and we are going to take care of you.
” His eyes were deep and a fathomless blue as he locked his gaze on her.
“You’re safe with us, little forest nymph. ”
The words were absurd. Ridiculous under the circumstances, and yet, something inside her unclenched. Perhaps it was the way he said it, as if it were a vow. Perhaps it was the way he brushed her hair back from her face in a touch so careful and reverent, she almost believed him.
Sienna relaxed but couldn’t stop the tears from flowing again. Raw sobs wracked her body. “I’m not a nymph, and I’ll never be safe… no matter where I go.”
“I once felt like you do right now.” The woman’s hand settled on Sienna’s brow as gentle as a summer breeze, breaking through her despair.
“I found my savior in this man years ago, and believe me, when my husband makes a promise, he keeps it. What he just said is as good as a sworn oath. We will keep you safe. Now, relax and let this big bear of a husband of mine pick you up and carry you to the truck. Contrary to his size, he is also very gentle.”
Sienna wanted to argue. She wanted to scream, disappear into the trees, and never look back. But exhaustion had settled into her bones, and the pain in her still raw wounds and ribs throbbed in time with her heartbeat as a relentless reminder of how fragile she truly was.
Too weary to protest, she nodded. Still, she stiffened when Derek lifted her into his arms. His movements were careful, almost tender.
“Relax, little one. I’ve got you.” He started walking in the opposite direction from the hiking trail. “Love, please phone the hospital in Missoula and warn them we’re bringing in a patient who needs urgent care.”
“No! No hospital. I can’t go… he’ll find me. Please. No hospital.” Sienna’s voice cracked as fear unfurled inside her. “He always finds me.”
Trust was a currency she had long since spent but staring into the deep blue eyes of the stranger, something stirred inside her. It was as if he were silently reaching out, offering her a key to a door she had sworn never to unlock again.
“No hospital,” he said softly and then to his wife, “Angel, get hold of Doc Quincy so they can prepare for our arrival.” He smiled at Sienna. “He’s our inhouse doctor at the Ranch clinic. He’ll fix you up in a jiffy.”
Too tired to fight, she let her head fall against his shoulder as her body surrendered to the exhaustion that had been gnawing at her since the night she had fled the hospital ten days ago.
For the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to hope.