Broken (The Captive #5.5)(4)
Genny lifted her skirts and leapt over a puddle before scrambling up the embankment to the dirt road beyond. She turned back to help Camille up the last few feet and onto the road. "Go on without me," Camille insisted as she straightened her skirt.
Genny shook her head and wrapped her arm through Camille's as she pulled her down the street. Her ankle boots slipped in the mud but she hurried on, passing by a group of chickens that were pecking at the worms rising from the earth. The King's Watchmen bowed their heads as they passed by a couple of them guarding the club where vampires sometimes went to feed. Though the humans inside the club had volunteered to be there, they weren't allowed to wander freely around.
More of the Watchmen, which belonged to the aristocrats now that King Harry was dead, were scattered throughout the vampire village to keep watch and to protect the village in case there was an uprising amongst the humans. Uprisings were rare, as most people didn't believe in vampires or know where to find them, but there had been one in Germany recently that had caused the now dead king to order all vampires out of that country for the next fifty years.
Camille strained to keep up but Genny wasn't about to leave her sister behind as she tugged more firmly on her arm. Genny waved to the vampires she knew along the way but for the most part she paid them little attention as she honed in on the hut sitting away from the others at the end of the road. The thatched roof glistened with rain but it wasn't the weight of the water that was causing it to sag, it was the neglect it had experienced over the years since it had been built.
Genny's belly already turned in disgust and apprehension before she'd even arrived at the open, sagging wood door. "Go straight to our room," she said to Camille before stepping through the door.
"You're late!" The words were barked at her from the direction of the fireplace and caused her lip to curl into a sneer. Her nose wrinkled at the stench of stale ale and body odor that permeated the small house. Marie's newest find, and her worst by far, was the cause of most of the stench as he sat in the corner in the only rickety chair left in the house. Furniture never lasted more than a couple of weeks in this hovel.
"Good to see you too, Felix," she muttered and pushed Camille toward their room in the back.
Camille gave her a sympathetic look and tried to linger but Genny continued to usher her forward. Camille had just closed the door to their room when a large hand wrapped around her neck and jerked her backward. A startled cry almost escaped her but she kept it suppressed by biting on her bottom lip. If she cried out now Camille would come out of their room to try and help her and she couldn't allow that to happen. She was stronger than Camille was; she could withstand this better than her sister ever could.
"Where's my money?" Felix growled at her.
Genny fumbled to free the purse she had tucked inside of her tunic. He snatched it from her hands but she knew it wouldn't be enough to stop what was coming; it never was when he was in this kind of a state. Genny bit her tongue and closed her eyes as the first of his many blows rained down upon her.
***
The sun had faded from the sky when Camille opened the door to their bedroom and poked her head out. Genny didn't bother to lift her head to look at her, she could barely move it as it was. "Is he gone?" Camille asked in a squeaky voice.
"He is," Genny confirmed.
"Did he hurt you badly?"
"Nothing I can't handle," Genny told her and tried to force a smile but her split lip wouldn't allow it to happen.
"You should have let me stay, I could have helped…"
"He would have hurt you more than me. I can handle it," Genny assured her.
Though the main reason she tried to keep her sister from Felix was because she hated the way that he watched Camille. Genny recognized the lustful look in his eyes from the way that men had looked at Marie over the years. She could withstand a beating, but what Felix wanted to do to Camille was something that her sister would never recover from.
"Where is Marie?" Camille asked nervously.
"Who knows and who cares," Genny muttered as she rose to her feet. She winced as one of her cracked ribs grated against her flesh and her bruised legs protested the effort to hold her upright. She would feel better once she'd fed and by tomorrow most of the bruises would be gone and her ribs would be healed.
"I don't understand why he does this," Camille muttered.
"Because he can!" she spat. "Because Marie allows it so that she doesn't have to deal with it."
"I know we can't count on her but maybe Marie will find a good man again before we're ready to leave for France. Maybe we'll be able to escape this place," Camille said hopefully.
Genny grit her teeth and fisted her hands at her sister's words. "All she has to rely on is men, and in case you haven't realized it yet, all men leave."
She forced the image of green eyes out of her mind as her own eyes burned with unreasonable tears. She hadn't cried from the beating Felix had laid upon her. She'd grown so accustomed to his assaults over the past six months, that she handled it with far more ease than the first time he'd come at her. In the beginning, it was their mother who had been the focus of his attacks. Once Marie had realized that there was no rhyme or reason to when the beatings would occur, she'd stopped showing up before the middle of the night. Marie would creep in late tonight and crawl into bed beside the man who had turned to using his fists on her daughter in her absence.