Chapter Fifteen

Again, this chapter contains some material that may be offensive or upsetting. Read with caution!

"No! No! No!" Michaela screamed over and over again as David's hands ripped at her dress and gripped her breasts and her sides violently. He pressed his bruising lips to her flesh, and she wanted to throw up again. How could this be happening to her? She'd heard of this happening, and she had treated many victims, but she never thought it could happen to her, and she never thought it would be by David. "Stop! Stop! David, stop!" It occurred to her that she was probably going to die. After he had his way with her, he'd kill her. If she was lucky, it would be a quick death, but knowing this side of David, he'd make her suffer; make her beg for death. He'd kill her from the inside first; kill her spirit and her self-worth. He'd kill her hopes and dreams, and then he'd finish the job. She couldn't let him have the satisfaction.

As his hands moved to rip off her pantaloons, she couldn't take it anymore. The garment came off with a loud tear, and Sully's face appeared in her thoughts. His deep azure eyes penetrated her soul, and she felt renewed strength and love fill her entire being. Michaela Quinn was a strong woman. She wasn't going to let this happen. She would fight until the last minute. She wouldn't give up.

"Stop!" she screamed as his hand moved up her thigh. She kicked him away, and he came back at her with more force, slapping her face so hard that the corner of her mouth began to bleed. She reached blindly, reached for something to save her life. His hands were roaming again, but she thrashed about violently, not letting him get to her.

"I never knew you were a feisty one, Michaela. Stubborn for sure, but feisty? It only makes it better for me. You're only hurting yourself."

"I hate you!" she screamed, reaching toward the alley trash. She needed something…anything. When he turned her onto her stomach to try to rip the back of her dress, she spotted something glinting at her in the moonlight. She reached for it, and she felt the hard glass in her hands. At that moment, she was thankful for whiskey bottles. She rolled onto her back and threw the glass at him. She heard it smack him in the forehead, and he groaned in pain. Shattering followed, and his head hit the brick wall with a heavy thud. When silence followed, she knew he was unconscious. What if he was dead? She felt around in the darkness for his body, and her hand moved to his chest. She felt his cold, blackened heart beating, and his breathing was shallow. She hated him. She wanted him to die. Her hand found a large shard of glass from the whiskey bottle, and she wanted to kill him. She wanted him to bleed and hurt and die.

She felt humiliated. She broke down and threw the glass away. What was she thinking? She was a doctor, and she vowed to preserve life, not take it. She could easily kill him now and not be taken to trial. She could easily let him go to his eternal resting place early, but death was too good for him. He had to suffer. He had to pay.

Footsteps came running, and Michaela noticed two lights bobbing in the darkness of the alley and nearing her. She drew away from David's body and hunkered near the wall, pulling her bruised legs to her chest.

"Miss?" a man asked, kneeling down beside her. The other moved to check her pulse. Michaela recognized him as Marshall Williams. He'd been invited to dinner a summer ago. "Miss Quinn! My God, what's happened?"

"This man's alive, sir," the younger man stated. "Barely." Michaela's tears had dried up. She'd cried herself out of them when she'd been attacked. She needed Sully, but he wasn't there. She needed him now more than ever.

"Miss? Did he?" She was trembling, and Marshall Williams, a strong man for sure, lifted her up into his arms. She didn't draw away. She wasn't afraid. She had no reason to be anymore. David would be going away for a very long time. He couldn't hurt her anymore. He couldn't break her.

"Stephen," Marshall Williams said quietly.

"Sir?"

"Take this man to the buggy and directly to the hospital. Don't let him out of your site. I'll meet you there to make an official arrest."

"Yes sir," the other man replied. Marshall Williams felt Michaela's arms wrap around his neck. And he felt her sobbing in his arms. He was a good friend to her father, and he felt guilty for having to break the news. He carried her out of the alley and across the street. They neared the house, and Michaela pulled away. The Marshall put her down.

"Miss Quinn," he said quietly. "I'll walk you the rest of the way." She nodded, blood and bruises staining her face. The Marshall let her lead the way, and when they arrived, he pounded on the door. He pounded furiously until Josef Quinn himself came to the door.

"What on Earth?" he asked, flinging the door open. "Do you have any idea what time…" He stopped when he saw his daughter standing there trembling, bleeding, bruising. "My God." He looked to the Marshall.

"I found her in the alley, Dr. Quinn."

"David," Josef said, clenching his fists. His eyes became teary. He looked to Michaela, and she flinched at the name. "It was?"

"The attacker is being taken to the hospital for treatment, and I'm going to arrest him immediately." Josef knew in his heart that a jail couldn't hold David. David was a very powerful man with powerful connections. "I need to get down to the hospital. If you need anything, you know where to find me." Josef nodded and thanked the man for bringing Michaela home. By the time Josef closed the door, Elizabeth was standing at the landing on the stairs, looking down at the pitiful sight.

"Michaela?" she asked.

"Elizabeth, go up to bed."

"What happened!" Elizabeth asked, moving down the stairs further.

"Just go! I'll talk with her."
"I'm not leaving! I'm her mother, for God's sakes!"

"Then do what's right for once and leave her be!" Josef seethed. Michaela moved into the parlor, her body still trembling. She was sobbing again, and the tears were flowing anew.

"Josef Quinn, you have tended to her long enough! It's my turn. Let me be her mother!" Elizabeth's words shook the entire house, and Josef swallowed hard. He didn't want her to make the situation any worse, and Elizabeth certainly had her ways of doing that. Elizabeth moved toward her daughter. She placed her hand on Michaela's shoulders. The fabric of her dress was dirty, wet and torn. Blood seeped from a wound just inside Michaela's hairline, and blood trickled from her lip. Bruises were swelling on her face, and Elizabeth was almost frightened. But, she still saw the beautiful young woman that lay underneath. "My sweet girl. What happened to you?"

"David," Michaela uttered. "David happened." Josef moved to her.

"Did he…"

"No," she said harshly. "He tried. I stopped him. I…I stopped him."

"I'm wiring for Sully immediately."

"No!" Michaela yelled. God, what would Sully do? He would give up his new life in Colorado to come back to her. She couldn't be the one he left it all for. Not under these circumstances anyway. She couldn't give him that burden. She'd tell him face to face when she saw him again. She couldn't let him leave when he'd only just arrived.

"No? He'll want to know!"

"I know," she whispered. "I'll tell him in my own way. Father, please. Don't tell Sully. Not now." Elizabeth was trying hard not to cry as she looked at her daughter. Martha came in and gasped at the sight.

"Martha, please prepare a bath upstairs."

"Yes ma'am," Martha said with a nod, tiredly hurrying up the stairs in her night robes. Michaela looked up into her father's eyes. She broke down again.

"Why?" she asked. "Why?"

"Oh Mike," he whispered softly, moving toward her and drawing her into his embrace. Elizabeth flinched. Again, Michaela had turned to Josef just like she always had…just like she always would. "I'm sorry."

"Me too," Michaela whispered. "I shouldn't have trusted him. He tried to…"

"I know," Josef said gently. "It won't happen again. David is going to go away for a very long time."

"Michaela," Elizabeth began. "I'm sorry I ever trusted him." Michaela turned toward her mother.

"It's not your fault," she said sadly. "I never should have given him the chance. I should have gone to the authorities when he hurt me the first time."

"No! This is not your fault," Elizabeth said quickly, remembering her past with Thomas Worthington. "You didn't ask for this. You didn't. Be thankful you got away, Michaela. Be thankful you still have your life." Michaela nodded, brushing her tears away.

"I am," she said, her voice cracking. Josef gently rubbed his daughter's back.

"I want you to take some time off of work. Just rest."

"No," Michaela snapped, pulling away. "You think that resting will help me to not think about it? I want to work, father." She couldn't let David ruin her life. He wasn't worth it. He'd done enough to her to last a lifetime. It wouldn't happen again. She wouldn't let it.

"Now isn't the time to discuss such matters," Elizabeth replied. "Michaela, come along. We'll get you cleaned up." Michaela nodded and started up the stairs with Elizabeth right behind her. Josef stood, watching them as they disappeared up past the landing. He wished there was something he could do to help her. He wished the entire night hadn't happened, but somehow, he knew this would make his Mike stronger. She was a strong woman, and he knew she could pull through anything. The scarring would always be there, but she would heal.

Upstairs, Elizabeth set out the towels as Michaela undressed. The tattered dress piled at her feet, and Martha bundled it up. She would normally mend the dresses, but this was one would be impossible. Elizabeth turned her head away when she saw her daughter's body. She had scratches on the tops of her breasts, and bruises were appearing under them. Scratches marked her thighs, and bruises lined he ribs. She had been lucky to escape alive.

"You should let your father examine you."

"Nothing's broken," Michaela assured her. That was the truth. David hadn't broken her spirit, her hope…only her trust…any trust she may have ever felt toward him.

She slipped into the hot water and felt it sting her bruises and scrapes. She relaxed soon enough, however, and Elizabeth brought a stool over beside the tub. She dampened a cloth and began to cleanse Michaela's face. Michaela looked up at Elizabeth with tears in her eyes. Elizabeth hadn't sat with her like this since she was a little girl.

"Thank you," Michaela whispered as Elizabeth washed the blood away. Elizabeth bent down and kissed the top of Michaela's head.

"We may not always agree, but we'll always love one another." Michaela nodded.

"Yes, I know."

"I love you, Michaela. You may not think it sometimes, but I do. I always have, and I always will." Michaela and Elizabeth soon sat in silence, and Michaela felt her body being cleansed. No matter how badly David had hurt her, he hadn't broken her. He hadn't won. She was still very shaken up, but she still felt such profound love and joy. Sully's love. When she thought of him, her heart swelled, and she was happy. He was her happiness, and David hadn't taken that away. He hadn't taken anything from her, and he would never get the chance to try again.

Sully woke up in a cold sweat. He was breathing heavily, and his heart was pounding. He groaned as his head pounded, and he wondered for a moment if he was dying. Something felt terribly wrong.

Cloud Dancing heard Sully stirring, and he moved from his sleeping wife's side to sit beside Sully.

"What is it, my friend?" he asked, stirring the embers in the fire.

"I…somethin' don't feel right," he replied quietly, pressing the heels of his hands into his forehead, trying to apply a counter pressure to what he was feeling on the inside. His heart felt like it was breaking, but he didn't know why. Something was very, very wrong. Sully's ankle began to throb, and his head pounded even more painfully. He winced, and the medicine man closed his eyes, chanting something for a minute. Sully watched him, and when Cloud Dancing opened his eyes, he looked very serious.

"Something is out of balance in your life." Sully was already confused.

"What?"

"You must heal your spirit as well as your body." Sully swallowed hard.

"How do I do that?" Cloud Dancing took a small pouch into his hands, opened it, and emptied the contents into the flames. The flames sparkled a brilliant blue for a moment before returning to orange and white.

"There is a ritual," Cloud Dancing began. "It has been used for many years. A sweat lodge is constructed, and we seek the guidance of the Spirits. They come to us in the form of visions and lead us on the right path. The spirit is cleansed, the body is healed, and the pain will start to go away." Sully knew there was a lot of pain in his life. Not only was there physical pain, but also there was the emotional pain. He had the pain of losing his parents and home, and he had the pain of being away from the woman he loved. God, he needed her now more than ever.

"We should do that now?" Sully asked. Cloud Dancing shook his head.

"Your physical pain must be tended to first. When you are stronger, you will be able to heal your spirit." Sully swallowed hard.

"What do I do 'til then."

"You rest," Cloud Dancing replied. "Heal your body and rest your soul. I will pray to the Spirits to take your pain away. I will ask them to heal you." Sully nodded, and he listened as the medicine man chanted, and he fell asleep to the chanting, as the words danced away with the swirling smoke from the fire.