Thread: Why Does the Caged Bird Sing? (Corsair and Xana)

Vinnie didnt speak the entire ride home, just drank and glared, oozing with rage just under the surface. On one hand, Mercedes appreciated that he didnt intend to publically humiliate her, but on the other, she feared for what he might do, whatever he was waiting for the privacy of closed door to inflict upon her. He reeked of whiskey. It seeped from his pores, mingling with his perspiration and indignation. Maybe hed drink himself into a stupor, and pass out. Still, Mercedes heart beat reached a crescendo as the car rolled to a stop, and Vinnie ushered her out of the car. It pounded against her chest as the car sped away, leaving her alone with her husband. Inside. It was the first thing he had said since they left the club. She just nodded and bit her lip, hoping it was still possible to avoid an argument. But as the door shook and slammed behind her, Mercedes knew she had to change her approach. Avoiding an argument was no longer an option, her best bet was to mitigate it as much as possible. Vinnie, you are making a big deal outta nuthin She started, making her way through the house in a subtle effort to put distance between them. Vinnie was having none of it, though, grabbing her wrist to turn her to face him before shoving her into the hallway wall. You dont ever, ever, disrespect me in public again. You hear me? he roared in her face, spittle striking her. She nodded but he slammed her again, Are you fucking him? Tom? Why do you think I am fucking him? Mercedes argued back, even knowing it wasnt smart to back talk him. I saw you flirting with him! How long you two been fuckin? His fingers fisted in her dress, causing slits to appear in the fragile material. Vinnie stop!, We arent! Vinnie, youre ripping my dress! She grabbed at her husbands hands, trying to pry them loose. This seemed to further infuriate him, until he spun her around and dragged her into the dining room. With a thud, she was smashed into the wooden table. I bought this for you! He bellowed, ripping the satin dress from her skin. Cloth shrieked as it tore, leaving her in only under garments. Her bra and garter belt were left unmolested, but her panties were ripped off as well, as he held her down against the table. You wanna be a whore? You think I wont turn this ass out if I didnt love you so much? Dont play me Mercie. Nobody plays me. Fat fingers dug into the back of her head, pressing her face down into the hard wood surface of the table. She struggled and squirmed as she felt his rub his erection against her lips, unaroused and unyielding to his approach. He lifts her upper body just a few inches before slamming her down again, knocking the air from her lungs with the impact. As she gasped to refilled her lungs, he thrust into her, half his length ripping open her delicate womanhood. Vinnie! She screamed out, her voice cracking under the vicious pounding of her sex, his meat cruelly splitting apart her tight walls, Stop! You hurting me! Good. Maybe youll learn something this time. Remember who you belong to. His fingers tightened in her hair, pulling from the base and threatening to rip out thick sections. Her one mercy was that it didnt last long, though the pain made everything happen in slow motion. One last stroke, banging against her cervix, and she was flooded by his climax, dripping from her violated hole as he pulled out of her. Clean yourself off, he snarled before turning to head into the bedroom, leaving his wife defiled against the table. The hot water had run out, and taking a cold shower didnt sit with Mercedes mood, so she trudged out from the stall. She still didnt feel clean, not ever after an hour. She wondered if she would ever feel clean again. If she would ever feel whole, and not used, and dirty, and violated. If there was such a thing to wash Vinnies taint from her skin. In the bedroom, she could hear Vinnie snoring. Her rapist. Her husband. He didnt even care how much he hurt her. Didnt lose any sleep over her tears or her agony or her shame. That bastard! She had looked the other way on so many things. The other women, cheating on her, while demanding that she not even so much as talk to another man. Even taking another woman down to Mexico, for vacation. Admittedly she didnt know if procuring an illegal abortion for his mistress was better or worse than coming home with a bastard, but that fact that he was in the situation to begin with was an affront to her. To their marriage. And now this No! He doesnt get to go on, like nothing happened. He doesnt get to sleep in their marriage bed after treating her like a whore. There was a gun in the closet. A Smith and Wesson .357 revolver. Loaded. Vinnie had bought it for her, in case anyone ever tried to attack her, to hurt her husband. Even taken her to the gun range a few times, to teach her how to shoot it. Mercedes knew what she had to do. Gripping it in shaky hands, she moved towards her husband. Standing beside him as he slept. She wasnt a whore. She wasnt some floozy to be used and discarded. She wouldnt let him get away with treating her like that. She couldnt. Raising the gun to his head, she looked down at him. Squeeze the trigger, and end it. End it, end him, and his bullshit. And where would that leave her? Vinnie would be dead, and someone would have to pay for that. He would be dead, and she would be arrested. No judge or jury would hear out her case. Its wasnt rape when it was her husband. It was just her wifely duties, her own fault for not just giving him what he wanted. His suffering would be over and done, and shed spend the rest of her life in prison. Even if she did avoid a conviction, Vinnie was a made man, and shed never be safe from the mob. Exploding into a torrent of sobs, she collapsed onto the bed. She couldnt kill him, and she couldnt let him live. Couldnt leave, and couldnt stay here with not. Not anymore. There had to be another way, a way to hurt him, as badly as he hurt her. Worse, even. Take everything from him, until his empire was dust beneath her feet. If it took the rest of her life, Mercedes Morello was sure shed make him pay. Make him suffer. Make his wish he had never laid a hand on her.