Page 3 of His Wounded Heart

He dragged her over to the gas stove and turned on one of the burners.

“Please don’t, Ned. I’ll do better, I promise. Please, Ned.”

He pulled on her hand, forcing her clenched fist down on the burner, and she screamed.

… and screamed.

… and screamed.

Knowing that no one would ever come to her rescue.

She must have passed out because she was in the bedroom when she woke up. She curled up in the fetal position, holding her burned hand to her chest. Ned was standing over her with his gun. How many times had he shown her his five-thousand-dollar Colt Python handgun? It was his pride and joy, and he was going to kill her with it.

Ned was crying.

“I found your money yesterday. Did you know that, Elizabeth?” He pressed the toe of one of the many dress shoes that she kept polished into her hip. “Get up,” he whispered.

She couldn’t. She hurt too much.

“Get on your knees, Elizabeth. You wanted to leave me. Well, I can arrange that. Get on your knees.”

“Huh?” she was having trouble understanding him.

“Do it. Do you want to make me angrier? Who were you going to leave with? Tell me his name.”

Liz moaned. What had he just said? The pain was excruciating. Now she couldn’t understand a word he was saying.

He prodded her with his shoe again.

“I asked you a question. Tell me his name. Who is he?”

Ned fell to his knees beside her and pushed back her hair. She saw how tears ravaged his face. “Just tell me who he is, that’s all I ask.” He wasn’t yelling. He was talking right into her face, almost crooning the words. She could understand. “If you do that. If you tell me who he is. I’ll forgive you. I’ll kill him, but I’ll forgive you. You know you’re my world. I love you. You’re my everything.”

Liz lurched away until her back hit the bed. Even then, she tried to move further. She tried to slide under the bed.

“Don’t you dare! Tell me who he is, Elizabeth. You can’t leave me. You promised me in front of my parents. You said you would hold on to me for better or for worse. You said you would love and cherish me, and only death would part us. Do you remember, Elizabeth? Do you? Do you remember your promises before God?” he screamed so loud his voice was shrill.

He yanked her from under the bed by her injured hand. She screamed this time. It wouldn’t matter, nobody lived close by. Nobody would hear her.

“I told you to kneel, Elizabeth. You need to do what you’re told. Now tell me what you were going to do with that money. Who were you going away with? Tell me!”

She felt the spittle spraying her face.

“Dora. She was going to drive me to the bus station. There wasn’t any man. I swear it.”

He swung the gun around and pointed it at her. “You’re lying to me,” he croaked. Tears and snot covered his face. “You unfaithful bitch. Just tell me who he is. Tell me.” He pulled her into a kneeling position. “You need to tell me. You need to confess to God and me. Tell us both your sin.”

He dug the barrel of the gun so hard into her forehead.

“Please Ned, there’s no one. There’s only ever been you,” Liz cried. “Only you. But you keep hurting me. I have to leave.”

He twisted the barrel, twisting her skin so hard she thought it would rip, making her forget all about the pain in her hand.

“There’s only one way you can leave this marriage, Elizabeth, remember? Til death us do part. You promised our families. You promised God. Now kneel!” He yanked her into a kneeling position, then placed the gun against her temple.

“Lizzy!”

“Lizzy!”