Page 54 of Wrath

“I met Peter at church a few months later. He was new in town and very handsome. He had a stable job and just the right amount of charm. My parents liked him. Everyone liked him.” She exhales slowly.

“Didyoulike him?” I furrow my brow.

“Yes, I liked him very much. So much, that when he asked me to marry him, I said yes.” She looks down and when I notice that her wedding ring is still on her finger, I’m even more confused, who the hell kills their husband, then continues to wear their ring?

“We were going to be so happy.” A tear drips onto her hand and when I wrap my arm around her shoulder to offer her somecomfort, I can’t help remembering how much hope I had for me and Wrath.

“Cliff must have found out about the wedding.” Anita snuffles and quickly dries her tears. “He broke into my bedroom the night before and begged me not to go through with it.”

“And did–”

“He raped me.” She turns her head to look at me, and the blank expression she’s wearing puts a lump in my throat.

“I’m so sorry.” Tears of my own threaten to release, and when I glance at the door, I fight against the temptation to run to it.

“He took me like a whore, he stole what I’d been holding onto for my wedding night as if it meant nothing to him. And the whole thing was nothing like what I expected. It made me look back at our time together and hate myself for ever wanting it to be him who I gave it to.” Flashes of the night Aaron was forced to take my virginity start to distract me. It appears Cliff likes taking things by force. I remember all the loud jeers and the way Aaron looked at me while the moment that was supposed to be so special was stolen from us both.

“Once he’d done that, he turned me on my front and pushed my face into the pillow, I thought I was gonna suffocate. I thought he was going to kill me, and then when he pushed himself into my…” She takes crisp white tissue from her watch and dabs her eyes. “...I started to wish Iwassuffocating just so I could know it would end.” She bursts into tears and I have to remind myself to breathe as I continue to hold her. There were many nights I’d spent at the house after he took me when I’d have those same dark thoughts.

“He just got up and left when he was done. I lay on the bed feeling numb until the sun rose, and Mom came to my room to wake me up. Then I put on my wedding dress and walked up the aisle.” She blinks back more tears as she explains.

“I married Peter and I smiled at all the people who came to watch.” My heart is breaking for her, and it sinks to my stomach when I start to realize that nothing about what she’s telling me is gonna help lead the club to Cliff.

“That night, when Peter and I went to bed, I was so sore but I knew I had a duty. I pretended to enjoy it because it’s what a wife should do.” Her eyes narrow and her voice gets weaker. “He kept asking me over and over if I'd lain down with someone before. He wanted to know why I hadn’t bled for him. I had no answers, I couldn’t tell him the truth. Our wedding night was the first time Peter struck me.” Her hand lifts up to touch her cheek as if she can still feel the sting. “He called me a liar, told me I’d misled him. He beat me so badly that I had to stay indoors for two weeks.” The laugh she makes is a sad one. “I pushed everyone I cared about away because I felt so humiliated. That’s when it really started.”

“When what first started?” I ask curiously.

“My journey to hell.” I watch her tuck her tissue back in place and pull herself together again, “ First, I let Peter isolate me, he quickly moved us to a new town, where I didn’t know anybody. Then I let him control me because I started to believe all the things he was telling me were true.”

“And Cliff? Did you ever hear from him again?” Raze told me Anita is convinced he’s been watching her, we need to find out if that paranoia is part of her illness or if he really is still in contact with her.

“Yes.” She swallows thickly. “He showed up at our house about two months after the wedding while Peter was at work. He raped me in our kitchen. Then he came again a year later, dragged me up the stairs, and raped me in our bed. He’d show up at random times; sometimes I’d go months, even years without seeing him, and just when I started to believe I’d never have to suffer him again, there he would be.”

“That’s… I’m sorry.” I have to keep reminding myself that this all has a purpose. Something about this woman was special to Cliff any clue could help.

“He always seemed to know when Peter was out of town, it was like he’d been watching and knew I’d be alone. The worst time was when I was pregnant with Richie. I was always scared, but knowing that it wasn’t just me he was hurting... That time was the worst.” She nods as more tears form in her eyes.

“It must have been awful.” I can see that she’s zoned out. There's nothing in her expression anymore, not even sadness.

“He’d walk into our home as if he expected me to be pleased to see him. Then he’d pin me down and force himself on me. He’d call me such cruel names. Sometimes, he’d get so mad at me that he’d spit in my face, but then he’d lie beside me, and hold me like we were lovers again.” Her face wrinkles with confusion.

“Did Peter ever find out?” I question her.

“Never, Cliff was too smart for that.” She shakes her head.

“And was Cliff the person who killed your husband?” I know that I’m moving into dangerous territory. This woman is supposedly unstable, but I can’t help wondering if all these years she’s been suffering the guilt of a crime she didn’t commit.

“No, I killed Peter.” She gives me that same blank stare and I realize she’s not at all remorseful for it.

“Cliff had visited that morning after Peter had left for work and Richie went to school. He’d raped me in our bed then he kissed me and promised he’d be back. He always did that. I swear he got off on knowing how much it scared me. When he left I was at my worst. My Richie was growing up so fast, every day he was needing me less and less. So my entire existence seemed to revolve around these two men, who both terrified me.” She shakes her head. “I spent that day making the house perfect for Peter to come home to, he always had to have itthat way. I’d made him and Richie something for dinner so they could both eat when they got home and when all my jobs were finished I went outside to his shed. I’d heard some folk from church talking about the man who took his own life by drinking weedkiller. Peter kept the yard so well, I knew he'd have some.” She smiles at me as if she’s telling me a bedtime story and feel myself getting more and more drawn into her nightmare. “What I found in that shed was the work of the Devil himself.” Her skin turns cold under my hand and her face goes white. “There were so many of them, all of them naked and pale.” She closes her eyes and shakes her head. “He’d kept Polaroid pictures of them all. This man who had to have everything so clean, and sterile, who I’d been married to for all those years, was a monster. A worse monster than the one who’d been raping me.” She shocks me when she starts to laugh hysterically.

“He’d make Richie recite passages from the Bible, he never let me forget that I wasn’t pure when we got married. For years and years, I let him abuse me and my son.” She stares at me as if she expects me to say something. “To everyone in our congregation, I had the perfect husband, a stern but fair father, and a good man. In reality, he was a cold-blooded killer. I had to save us from him.” She startles me when she stands up and starts to pace the floor. “I headed back inside the house and I called his office. I told the receptionist that there was a family emergency at home and that he was needed here, then I took the carving knife from the block.” She holds up her hand and clutches her fist as if she’s holding it right now. “Then I waited for him,” she whispers.

“Richie, he’s your son, right?”

“Yes, he’s a very special boy.” All the tension in her face relaxes.

“Was he at home when this happened?”

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