REprisal - Kathy Coopmans Page 0,77

protect her, and I fucking didn’t. I will never be able to forgive myself. All I can think about right now, all I can see, is my wife struggling, screaming and begging while the most defiling act anyone can do to a person is being done to her.

How can I even look her in the eye and begin to tell her how sorry I am?

My wife was raped, beaten by my brother. It was the most heartbreaking thing I’ve ever heard. I’m no fool. I knew she’d had sex with him. Those thoughts ran rampant through my head so many damn times when she was missing. But this is different. The most personal part of our relationship has been violated. I feel helpless, shocked, and devastated.

I couldn’t sit there and listen to any more. All I wanted to do was get up and find the bastard. Beat him to fucking death. I would give anything to end his life. I can see it in my mind. Firing my gun, watching him fall to his death in front of me. Turning and walking away with no remorse, only satisfaction that I ended him. I have told myself repeatedly that he would pay for the things he has done, and now I want him to suffer more than anything.

I’m a reasonable man, or at least I would like to think I am. I need to sit back and believe in justice. My family would be nothing if I wound up in prison for killing that no good fucker. The thought of never holding my wife again or not being able to watch my daughter grow up into a woman is enough of an incentive to stop me. I will be there for both of my girls. I will listen to Clove if she wants to tell me anything, even if it shatters me. We have a long way to go as a couple to be able to deal with what has happened to her, but our love for each other will carry us through, one day at a time.

I look at the beautiful little miracle in my lap, sound asleep. It’s powerful what a child can make you feel. I feel such an acute attachment to her already. I am going to shower this little girl with so much love and attention that I am sure she will be sick of me by the time she’s older.

Her eyes flutter open, looking around until she seeks me out.

“Hey, little one. Did you decide to wake up and talk with your daddy?”

I absorb her smell, listening to her coo and make her cute little gurgling noises.

“What should we do while mommy is out there talking, huh?”

I bend down and rub my face into her belly. She grabs hold of my hair and I’m taken aback when she lets out a full-fledged belly laugh.

“No way!” I say. I loosen the grip she has on my hair by taking her tiny hands in mine and lifting my head back up.

“Do that again?” I question as if she understands what I am saying to her.

Her eyes go wide and she smiles while kicking her little feet. My first instinct is to jump up and go get Clove, to tell her. The door to the bedroom is closed. I have no idea if her statement is over and I don’t really care at the moment. She has to hear this.

“Clove!” I holler as I walk down the hallway toward the living room.

Everyone is gone except for Zack and Bill who are both sitting with her on the couch. She’s crying and when she looks up at me, my heart drops when I see what I can only think of as shame and dishonor in her red-rimmed eyes. I move fast, hoping I can make Journey laugh again just to be able to see a smile on Clove’s face. Anything to get that sad, despondent expression to disappear.

“Does she need to be fed?” she asks shakily, moving over my way and sinking to the floor right next to where I just sat.

“I don’t think so, she just woke up. But you won’t believe this. Watch. Let me see if I can make her do it again.”

I lay her down on the carpet and her head automatically turns in the direction of her mother’s voice. Our legs brush together and that old, familiar flame jolts up my leg. She feels it too, I can tell as we observe each other.

“You’re