Chapter Four: The Big One

The next morning, she knew she wouldn't be able to tell anyone what happened, because of the threat to her kids. So for now, she'd just have to put up with it and try to hide it from everyone. It's all she could do.

Over the next few days, Brock and Barbra-Jean noticed Reba acted differently. And when they talked to the kids, they found out that the kids had noticed it too. Reba wasn't as cheerful as usual, and it seemed she was hiding something. But when asked, she just said she was tired a lot. But no one believed her.

Things went on like this for a while. He'd hurt her and threaten her kids. She'd deal with it, and hide it from everyone. She figured that it wasn't as bad as it could be. At least he wasn't after sex. That's where Reba would have to draw the line. She would have no choice but to do something if he started things like that. And then one night, he did…

He came home early one night. Around 7 o'clock. No one was there but Reba. All the kids were at Brock's and Barbra-Jean's. She was sitting on the couch watching TV when he came in.

She heard the door open, but expected it to be Brock or someone. But when she looked, she noticed it wasn't. It was Carl. "Carl, why are you here so early?"

Almost before she could finish her question, he blurted out, "WHO HAVE YOU TOLD, REBA!"

"What are you talkin' about? Tell about what?" She was very confused.

"Oh, don't give me that! You know what. About what's been goin' on in this house!"

"What do you mean, I haven't told anyone! I swear!" She got up off the couch and started backing towards the kitchen entryway, seeing that he was acting different and it probably wouldn't end well. But he was walking right with her.

"Then why is stuff bein' said at all the bars in town!"

"What stuff?" She was now in the kitchen, and looking for means of escape.

"How you've been actin' different, and everyone suspects that it's me! Now why on earth would they suspect me, unless they knew it was me for a fact!"

"I-I dunno. But I swear I haven't said anything to anyone!"

"Oh, yeah right! Come on Reba, we both know how you are!"

"I wouldn't put my kids at that risk! Plus, if I would've told someone, don't you think they would've done somethin' about it by now?"

He knew she was right, but just to make sure she wouldn't tell anyone, ever, he knew he had to be more strict with her. He felt like she was starting to get brave and might talk. She was against the kitchen counter, across from the sink. She took a chance and ran around to the back door. But he was quicker.

"Oh no you don't!" He came up behind her and grabbed her around her middle from behind. She reached for the door but he carried her away. He got to the end of the counter closest to the entryway, and she started hitting his arm, then trying to kick him. And trying to reach back and hit him in his face. He got fed up with it and threw her into the cabinet against the wall by the window to the living room. Things fell off of it and broke onto the floor.

He then picked her up by her waist and threw her down on the counter so she was facing him.

Luckily, nothing was laying out on in that could've hurt her. She continued hitting him, and he grabbed the collar of her button down blouse, and pulled her up to his face. He was standing against the counter, so her legs were on either side of his body, and their faces were centimeters apart. He spoke in a loud whisper.

"If you don't cut it out, you're gonna be real sorry!"

She stopped hitting him. Then when he let her go, she fell back to the counter. She looked to her side and saw a butcher knife that she had used to chop up asparagus the night before. She reached for it and went for him. But he saw it coming and grabbed her wrist and bent it the other way, causing her to drop the knife. He then picked it up and put it to her throat.

"Don't say I didn't warn you!"

She figured he was going to kill her right here, right now. But was wrong…

He kept the knife to her throat, so she wouldn't try to get away. She had her eyes closed, still thinking he was going to kill her. Hoping she was wrong. She was in fact wrong. But what was happening instead wasn't any better. She felt a hand move to her stomach. Then up to her chest. She opened her eyes in horror when she realized his intentions. That's when she noticed their odd position of where he was standing and where her legs were. She didn't care about the knife anymore. There was no way he was gonna get away with this.

She started smacking him and slapping him over and over and shouting things. Trying to scratch his face, and things that would get him away from her. But it wasn't working. He backhanded her very hard, which caused her to go somewhat unconscious. She could still see what was going on, but she couldn't really move much. She felt his hands on her again. All over her. And she didn't like it. She tried to move and stop him, but it didn't work.

He tore her blouse open and buttons went flying everywhere. She tried to scream for someone, but couldn't. She knew it wouldn't do any good anyway because no one was around to hear her. Then she felt him take her jeans down. And knew it wasn't going to be good. She did all in her power to stop him. She did get another smack in, but he grabbed her wrists in one hand and held them down. He then had his way with her, as she screamed for help…

She woke up, still on the counter, her clothes still half off. She remembered what had happened and remembered passing out afterwards. She had no idea where Carl was now, but hoped that he wasn't anywhere around. She slowly sat up and felt the pain. She winced as she got up, and when she looked over the edge of the counter, she saw Carl laying on the floor, passed out. At first she didn't realize that he couldn't hurt her, and tried to get away. But moved too fast, and fell to the floor next to him. Then she noticed that he had passed out from alcohol because of his horrible smell.

She got up as quick as she could, and headed for the front door. Her clothes were fixed, but she couldn't do anything about her blouse so she grabbed a jacket on the way out the door. She looked in the mirror by the coat stand and noticed her bruised face and messed up hair. She covered her face with her hair the best she could and headed out the door.