The Tyrant's Trophy

Maybell

I was strapped to a hospital bed. I spent the last month being probed at and watched. I hated it. I hated being here - in this ward and accused of being crazy! I didn’t do what he accused me of!

Why couldn’t they see that?!

My wrist throbbed with the restraints rubbing it constantly but I couldn’t help but pull. I wished it were a bad dream and that I’ll wake up and be home. That what HE did was just some sick demented nightmare.

“She hasn’t eaten, sir. We’ve tried but she refuses anyone’s touch.” I heard a nurse say. “Poor thing; it would have been a beautiful child if its mother’s mental health were good.”

“I had sedated her several times to change the gauze but she was still resilient.” Yeah, because that’s my husband’s main way of making you all think I’m a drunk psycho!

“Have Dr. Sweetheart come to see her?”

“Not once. He’s been busy with the courts getting an acquittal for her. How a mother could do that to her unborn child, I don’t understand.”

It wasn’t my fault!

I wanted that baby more than my own life!

She was mine…I would never have harmed her.

Why doesn’t anybody believe me?

“Maybell ~ We got you some gifts!” Abijah and her fiancee returned but I made no move to get off the bed. Basil Beau is a sweet man and oddly enough, is more childish than strong and stoic. It made it somewhat easy to be in his home, but he’s still a guy.

I’m not in the mood to see any men right now.

I feel depressed.

“Maybell, we’re back from the stores.” Abijah cracked the door open a bit. “We got you some necessities.” She came and sat on the corner of the bed.

“He’ll find me. I just know it and when he does,” I’m as good as dead.

“I told you, I’ll take care of it, and I did.” I rolled away from her. She’s the one who signed my death certificate. I can only pray that Phil will forgive me if I tell him why I couldn’t return home. Never in my life did I picture this would be where I landed.

I also didn’t picture myself being locked up in a psych ward but life takes crazy turns. Abijah tugged the covers gently. “Trust me, this guy is the best. There’s no chance your husband will get past him.”

I want to believe her. My heart yearned to drop all its worries and nightmares but I had to be realistic. Phil is ruthless and smart. He’ll find a way. I shivered in fear, but what could I do but comply with the woman? She was pushy, after all.

“Do I have to do this?” Meeting a strange man and giving him personal details of my life.

It made me sick.

“Yes, you have to meet him, but not now. Take your time and I’ll bring in your things.”

Another thing I’ve learned about Basil Beau; He didn’t think much about finances. Abijah returned a few times and the number of bags made me woozy. When she pulled out the clothes, the woozy gave way to mortification.

They brought all this for me?!

This is too much!

How am I to pay them back?!

I don’t have anything to pay them for this and it’s not cheap clothes either. They have to return it! “Sorry about this.” Abijah apologized. “Basil gets carried away with these kinds of things.”

The man doesn’t even know me! “It’s too much. Can we return some?”

We were sorting through the clothes. “Basil’s stubborn. If I return an item, he’ll just go and get you three more things. Trust me, it’s best to just accept this.” She shuddered. “For my birthday, he got me flowers and I dropped them on the floor. It was an accident and they were still good but he didn’t care. He went back to the flower shop. I thought he would just get another bouquet - no - the man, made our condo into a garden.”

I wish she didn’t say that with a straight face. Then I could pretend she was kidding. “No returns: got it.”

I will have to find some way to reimburse them.

The week went on uneventfully. Each evening, the guard Abijah hired came by, but I would stay in the room. I’m just not ready to face the man and answer his questions. What if he gives me a look: the one that says I’m a nut job and I somehow end up back in the psych ward?

So I did the cowardly thing: Became a hermit.

If only that plan were foolproof.

The couple went to work like normal and I had the place to myself. Times of isolation put me at ease because it was my normal. Also, it allowed me to clean the place: a start to repay the engaged couple for taking me in, though it was by force. Still, it did feel nice to drift off to sleep, instead of passing out from the blows Phil threw at me. It’s also nice to let my wounds air out.

I think Basil’s goal this whole week was to make me comfortable. The dresses he brought me, though still too expensive, were cute and comfortable to wear. They were retro-styled with a modern flare but nothing revealing or suggestive. It was obvious, though, that my bruises made him uncomfortable but he did his best not to stare at them. The gesture made it less embarrassing to be seen without my makeup.

“Odd man,” I washed the last of the dishes, then began wiping around the sink for any water. “But he’s growing on me.”

I went to get the vacuum when there was a knock on the door. I didn’t ask “who’s there,” because I didn’t want anyone to know about my being here. I stood quiet, hoping the visitor would leave but they continued knocking.

“Excuse me, but is anyone home?” Some guy called out. “I live next door and I’m a single parent. My son is five months old and needs milk - I ran out. Would you spare some, please?”

I felt awful for the man and his son. A child shouldn’t go hungry. I wouldn’t want my baby starving. “One moment.” I replied back. I went to the cabinet for a mason jar. I know it’s not my stuff but I’ll take the punishment if it means helping the baby. I poured some milk into it and placed the lid on before walking to the door.

“Here you go.” I opened the door slightly and held out the milk. I kept my face hidden, not wanting to frighten the man.

He didn’t take it. “You should meet my son.”

“Um…”

“It’ll be quick and my son loves people. I bet seeing a beauty like yourself would make his day.” I felt the man’s hand touch my wrist. “I live just next door.”

“No thank you.” I tried taking my arm back but the man tightened his hold. “Please let go.”

“If you don’t come, it’ll make my son sad. You’ll enjoy it, promise.” He was tugging me now.

“Let go!” My heart fell in my stomach when the intruder pulled me out and covered my mouth.

“Shut up and do as I say: follow me and act natural. If anyone asks, we’re married.” This can’t be happening! He began pulling me towards the stairs but we bumped into someone.

“Now that’s odd because I know her husband.” Suddenly, the man’s hands were off me and I felt a new pair grab my shoulders. The guard Abijah hired gently maneuvered me behind him. He towered over the other guy, who now was nervous.

“Hey, I was asking for some milk for my baby.” The man gulped.

“You don’t have a baby.” My guard scowled. “I suggest you leave and find a new career because I promise you; kidnapping the wrong person will lead you straight to the grave.”

The man shook in fear and ran away.

It was then, I finally saw what the guard looked like: He was a giant - tall and broad-shouldered. He could be taller than Phil as well. The man stood like a board; straight and stiff, with neatly business-styled brown hair. He wore dark jeans and a plain V-neck blue shirt. Though it fit him nicely, the style didn’t suit him.

“You hurt anywhere?” He turned what could have been the brightest eyes I have ever seen towards me. His eyes weren’t one set of color but piebald: gray with spots of brown in them.

“I -uh,” There was a grocery bag by his foot with its contents spilled. The man was grocery shopping?

“My apologies, I was getting some food. I should have been here.” Now I felt bad.

“I’m sorry.” So I ended up keeping someone from eating, after all. I’m always getting in people’s way. “I’ll make it up to you - hit me.” That always cheered Phil up, maybe it’ll work on this man too? “Go ahead!” I closed my eyes, bracing myself. “I can take it.”

“I’m not going to hit you.”

“Just do it. I feel bad for ruining your dinner - I deserve this.” I cracked open an eye. “I won’t let this go until I repay you.” It came out pathetic.

“Are you serious?” I shook my head, afraid to see the fist coming. “Alright.” Instead of knuckles connecting with my cheek - I felt a finger boop me on the nose. It was such a soft boop - like a butterfly kiss. I opened my eyes. “There, we’re even.”

I had no words. I could only stand in place, bewildered, and wondering if this man was for real. “I’ll come by later to see how you are.” He picked up the fallen products. “Don’t open the doors anymore and if you need anything, tell me.”

He waited for me to go in first.

Then he went inside his home.

“Is this man for real?” I touched the exact spot where the man booped me. Then another thing hit me. “He saw me without my makeup!” He saw my bruises!

Yet he made no indication they bothered him.