Chapter 4

Four

Q ueenie

The ride felt like hours that just wouldn't pass. Both of us sat in the back, the first half painfully quiet and I couldn't help asking would it be easier to just throw myself out the car or return home with him? Anxiety ran rapid in every single one of my nerve, and if I could scratch away the discomfort, I would.

I could feel his eyes on me, but I could barely look at him. A part of me thought I'd never have to. I'd never forget a face like that, but during the ceremony, I hadn't realized how young he looked without all the blood on his face. I swear, he looked so much mature to me back then.

Maybe my fear of him had convinced me he looked older. In forced proximity, even in my peripheral vision, it was obvious he wasn't older by more than a year. Cillian had what my mama would refer to as a baby face. Bright, youthful features that made a grown man appear more virtuous than he actually was.

Maybe it was because I knew the truth about him that I just couldn't see past any of the appealing stuff that women noticed on a man. Of all the men I could have been forced to marry, why oh why did it have to be him?

"I reckon you'll fancy the flat me brothers picked out for us," his voice cracked. Almost like he was just as nervous to break that silence. "Not sure if you ever lived in a penthouse before, but I'm told there's a big kitchen. More than one washroom and a few other things we're bound to make use of," his thick foreign accent a bit of a challenge to understand.

I just didn't understand. We had to learn American but everyone else who voluntarily came here didn't or weren't forced to. "I'm sorry, what did you just say?"

He cleared his throat. His hard-blue eyes looked heavy between mine. "I said I think you're going to like the place my family picked out for us." His attempts to enunciate and use words he should have used in the first place. I still struggled but managed to piece the words I could understand together and omitted the rest.

"I have no idea what you're trying to tell me," I said, choosing to feign ignorance.

"I'm speaking English. What kind of problem you got with me?"

"Maybe I'm just not in the mood for conversation," I ended, forcing my gaze elsewhere but not quick enough to notice him rubbing his palms against his thighs in silent protest.

My words acted as a conversation suppressor for now, but once we reached the said apartment building, Cillian advised me to wait before stepping out the vehicle.

There was no way I'd ever get out this car if I didn't leave now, and if the place was as spacious as he bragged it to be, I wanted to just hide somewhere while I had the courage to do so. Hopping out of the car before anyone had objections, all I heard was, "Oi! I told you to wait."

Making it clear that I wasn't going to just obey like a house pet, he had a slight exchange with his driver, before erasing any possible distance with his long strides.

"Hey!" He sneered as he grabbed my arm with a firm handle. "I said I'd bloody open your door for you, what's your problem?"

"I just want to get tonight over with," I interrupted, which appeared to mean something different to him because he couldn't wipe that grin of satisfaction off his face. I was a lot newer to the subject of marriage and men, but I'm sure I just implied that I was just as eager to start the marital expectation of a wife.

"I can see why you're in such a rush," he smirked, after offering a curt "After you." All it did was give me a second longer to let the scenery to distract me. This hotel was swanky. Definitely nowhere a Colored girl who didn't star in pictures would likely find herself. With all the looks I was getting, it was clear that I was either not welcome or assumed to be a hooker.

Especially given my now husband was a white man that I didn't seem to know very well.

That certainly made me slow my stride to walk with him next to me, so no one approached or told me I didn't belong. I didn't, but this part of town wasn't the worst of Boston. At least neighborhoods with some color weren't far in distance away.

The elevator ride felt even longer than the car ride, as I had no choice but to let Cillian lead. He took out his key to the only apartment on the floor, but before he could guide me any further, I darted past him, eager to kick my shoes off and find a place of refuge he hopefully couldn't break down.

"Hey—hey, what the hell is bloody wrong with you? I know everybody's eager. But the least you could have done was let me make it more memorable for you and carry you over the threshold.

"Well, lucky for you, you've given me enough memories to last a lifetime."

"The attitude on this one, you must be one of them uppity ones." He boldly spoke without shame.

Up until now I had tried my best not to behave outside of how I was raised, but that word? It flipping infuriated me. "What did you just say?"

"Look, I ain't the one with the problem here. Since the moment I've been alone with you, you've been a big bloody tart, and all I'm trying to do is see the upside of the situation."

"Maybe there's one for you, but there is no upside for me. In fact, this is the last place I'd rather be."

"You think I wanted to fucking marry you? Like if I had a choice, this is where I'd be? Don't flatter yourself geebag, if it weren't for our fucking families, I'd be slapping skins with a proper Irish girl right now."

Something about the way he said geebag and proper Irish girl didn't sit right with me. One word I had no cultural context to. The other phrase came out in a way to suggest anything that wasn't Irish was the opposite of proper.

"Well, I don't know what ‘geebag' means," placing my hands on my hips. "But if you're so concerned about having a proper Irish girl maybe you should just go do that."

"I'm not going fucking anywhere, so you could drop this stuck up act and start listening to what your husband tells you."

"Or you'll what?" Kill me, like you do with all the other inconveniences in your life. Not that I was brave enough to do more than just think it. Especially after he got in my face, his large frame easily swallowing mine.

"Geebag means an obnoxious woman. And I'll tell you once. I spent three years behind bars, fighting men half my size. Men twice my size. So, one little firecracker ain't gonna scare me. Test me all you want. I ain't got no issue keeping you in line." The look in his eyes assured me he wasn't lying.

If I didn't get in my place, there was no doubt he would put me there. I just didn't know how far he would go or how painful he would make it.

Papa swore he loved my mama, but it didn't stop him from giving her the occasional black eye or two when he claimed she wasn't acting right. So, I can't imagine what a white man, a man who didn't have a natural predator would do to me.

I don't know what I was thinking when I made a run for it, but I did know that if I didn't pull a chair or knock a small table down in my path, he would surely catch me or do something worse to me.

The closest room door I could escape to seemed like the biggest room. This was probably a mistake if it were the primary bedroom, but I didn't have much of a choice. I'd managed to lock it just before he could use his large frame or strength to push past the door.

That didn't stop him from banging and screaming for me to open it, as I held my breath hoping he would tire himself out. "Elizabeth, if you don't open this fucking door right now ?—"

"Just leave me alone!" I screamed, edging away from the door, as the fear of him knocking it off its hinges gave me little to no peace. I wish I had chosen a smaller room. This was probably the room he intended for us to explore marital relations in. Taking a deep breath, I reminded myself that I had just had to survive the night. Maybe if I gave it a few hours, he'd be too exhausted to do anything. Or at least calm enough to where I wouldn't have to fight him.

My body was in panic mode, and I was ashamed to admit my fear of him hadn't subsided. The one relief to being stuck in here was that there was a bathroom attached to the room, with a toilet, a bathtub and a fancy sink. At least I'd have somewhere to wash my undergarments and a place to wash up. I'd been premature in my actions though, as my suitcase wasn't with me.

There was a good chance it was upstairs because our driver had been instructed to bring it. I just had to wonder what I'd gotten myself into.

After taking the time to wash up, I'd learned there'd been preparation for my stay here. A night gown, some intimates I could change into gave me a little dignity, but I would need something out of my suitcase so to ensure my hair didn't clump up throughout the night.

It was quiet out there, but maybe with some luck, he wouldn't be waiting by the door ready to pounce when my guard was down. Asking myself if the maintenance of my hair was worth encountering him, I reminded myself that I didn't have a perm. That was particularly hard in the forties, as not every on trend Black hair product or tool was good for my hair. Since I didn't relax it, I had to take extra good care of it.

Knowing I'd have to encounter Cillian sooner or later, I hoped that the quiet was an indication that he'd calmed down a bit. Instant regret coursed through every nerve of my body, as from the moment I opened the door, large pale hands successfully reached for my neck, as he physically forced me on the bed.

"Don't you ever lock me out of my own bedroom again? Do you hear me? I said do you fucking hear me?" he screamed, as I could do nothing but fight back tears and agree to it.

When he let go, I gasped for air, noticing too late that he had taken his shirt off and was in the middle of unbuckling his pants. "What are you getting undressed for?" I asked in a panic.

"I'm about to fuck the shit out of me wife," his tone annoyed and suggested that I had little choice in the matter.

"I can't," I cried, as I crawled up into a ball at the edge of the bed.

"You better be shitting me. Because ain't no way my brothers married me off to someone I can't fuck."

"They told me I wouldn't have to." Suddenly having next to no strength or energy.

"What the fuck do you think being married is? A fucking flat mate arrangement?" he yelled back, more frustrated with me than ever.

"If it had been anyone else," I winced, my tears welled as I watched his face contort in confusion. "They didn't tell me it was going to be you. Otherwise, I would have just run away."

"What in the blazes are you talking about? You didn't think it was going to be me? Ya' crazy woman."

"I'd rather be crazy than a fucking killer. I can't even look at you without remembering all the blood you had on your face," I screamed, as his face courted recognition, forcing him to stand as everything was starting to dawn on him.

"It was fucking you. You were the one who recanted." He pointed accusingly.

"They told me if I did it, they would help my father. But they didn't tell me that I would be marrying you," I cried out, terrified knowing my only refuge was the bathroom. Without hesitation, he gave chase once again, the only thing saving me was that I slammed his fingers through the door, forcing him to swear out loud and recoil.

"Three fucking years," he screamed banging on the door panel. "Three motherfucking years. That's how much of my life you took from me." As silence echoed for a moment and could I swear I heard him crying on the other side.

"I missed my brother coming back from the army. I became an uncle in fucking prison. I didn't even know it until just today." His voice slightly muffled by the pitch in his voice breaking.

"I couldn't even go to my father's bloody fucking funeral. All because of fucking you." By now, I couldn't ignore that he was crying. I didn't even know a man like him was even capable of tears.

"I came back and it's like the whole fucking world changed around me," he said with a slammed fist against the door a final time before telling me to go fuck myself.

The door slammed inside the room. There was no way to know if he had locked himself in or locked himself out. But what I did know is there was no way I was going to leave this bathroom. I should have just waited him out until the morning but right now I would have no choice.