Church Bells By Carrie Underwood
If you've ever listened to this song you already know what to expect...
Warnings for Violence, Abuse, murder, and mentions on rape.
Steph POV:
The first blow hurt; I knew it would bruise. The second knocked me to the ground as he stood above me and sneered, "Dumb bitch!" He growled, kicking me in the ribs. I sucked in a breath, taking the pain. He stumbled down the hallway to the master bedroom; the room that was supposed to be ours, that I now refused to step into.
I could take the hitting and the insults, what I couldn't stand were the nights that he drug me to the bedroom with him. I stood, holding my ribs. I took a deep breath, relishing in the fact that he hadn't drug me with him. I couldn't overpower him; he had five inches and one hundred pounds on me.
I walked as softly as I could to the bedroom downstairs that I had claimed as my own. I made my way to the bathroom and turned on the shower, letting the hot water run to steam up the bathroom. I wrapped my ribs before examining my face.
He didn't break anything this time. I would have a nice black eye tomorrow and a bruised cheek. I shut the shower off and sat on the closed toilet until the steam dissipated.
I made my way to the bedroom and opened the small fridge to get a gel pack. I put it against my face as I laid in the bed. I couldn't keep doing this. Tomorrow. Tomorrow I would get what I needed to end it.
I remembered the first time I showed up at Rangeman with bruises. Carlos had drug me into the infirmary, making Bobby look at me. The first time it wasn't that bad, but they did get worse.
Carlos tried to get me to walk away, years ago. I refused. I thought I could change Joe; he wasn't always like this. He didn't start off getting drunk every night and beating me. He used to be better than the rest of his family. I've learned from my mistakes now. I know I should have left him after the first time, but I wanted to help him. Three years into this horrible marriage I knew I couldn't. I thought I loved him; instead, he was a safety net. Carlos would have taken care of him years ago, if I had let him. But I couldn't. I couldn't let him do this for me.
I walked into the building, and the man at the desk raised his eyebrow. "Can I help you, miss?"
"I'm here to see Ranger Manoso."
"Do you have an appointment?" he asked.
I raised an eyebrow. "Tell him that an old friend with a problem is here," I said. I settled into one of the seats in the lobby as he made the call. He looked resigned when he hung up.
A minute later Carlos came out of the stairwell. He caught sight of me, and I could see a smile on his face. "Babe." He said.
I smiled. "Carlos, how've you been?"
"Better, now that you're here," he said as he pulled me into his arms, his lips finding mine for a short but deep kiss.
"I'm still a married woman," I told him.
"Not for long." He told me. He led me to the elevator pressing the button for level seven.
"We'll talk about that upstairs," I told him softly.
His face took a serious turn. He nodded. Once we were inside his apartment I could breathe. "Talk to me, Babe."
"You know most of the story," I told him. "I can't do it anymore, Carlos."
"He did it again last night," he said, his voice full of venom; not directed at me, but at him.
"He only beat me this time," I said softly.
"Where?"
I grabbed a makeup wipe from my purse and wiped it over my face, exposing the bruising. It was purple, black, and ugly. He had busted blood vessels in my face. Carlos's hand brushed gently over my jaw, his clenched.
"Where else?"
I rose, pulling my shirt up. His gaze roamed over the bruising of my ribs. "Will you let Bobby look at them?"
I shook my head. "They're fine. I've had worse." I paused. "Carlos, I need it."
He nodded. "I've got it," he said. I watched him walk into the bedroom, before coming back a few minutes later.
"It only takes one time," he said softly, putting the vial in my hands. "Once you do it, tell me so I can get it from you, so they don't find it. It's untraceable."
"Thank you, Carlos."
He kissed my forehead. "I'll do whatever I can to protect you," he told me softly.
"Why? I could have stopped this from happening years ago. I could have kept this from happening."
"We all make mistakes," he said against my hair.
"That still doesn't explain why you still want anything with me," I whispered.
"I love you, Babe. I always have. I might have been stupid at first, but I love you."
"I love you too, Carlos," I said softly. He kissed me again.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked.
I nodded. "I don't have a choice." I answered. I stood. "Thank you, Carlos."
He escorted me out of the building, leaving me with one last kiss. I made my way home, starting Joe's meal. I heard him pull up in the driveway. I dropped a few drops from the vial into his beer before setting it on the table next to his food.
He came in, his eyes watching me. He walked up to me and grabbed my jaw. "When you went out today, did you cover these?"
"Yes. Nobody saw them."
"Good wife," he said, patting my unbruised cheek. I resisted the urge to bite his hand. He went to the table and dug in, taking long pulls from his beer. I sighed in relief.
He stumbled to bed a couple hours later, leaving me alone, thankfully. I dialed Carlos's number.
"How was your night, Babe?" he asked when he answered.
"It went well. The meal I wanted to cook went just as planned. It turned out well."
"I hoped it would."
"Thank you for providing me with the recipe."
"You're welcome, Babe."
"I'll be seeing you," I said.
"Yes, you will be."
I knew he would be here within the hour, sneaking in to get it and then back out.
The next day, Trenton Detective Joseph Anthony Morelli was found by his wife of two years dead in his bed. The cause was listed as a heart attack.
A few days later, his funeral was held at the church before moving to the cemetery. Nobody questioned why there were no tears on the new widow's face. Nobody questioned when the man in black wrapped his arm around her shoulders and walked her back to his car