6
EMILY
“Don’t hide from me! I will find you and when I do, I’ll tan a stripe off your hide, then you’re going to do your wife’s duty.”
The way he slurred his words and stumbled about, I knew Frank was drunk. Again. When he was sober he ignored me, but when he came home full of rotgut whiskey and angry for losing even more money playing cards, he was downright mean.
He’d hit me only a few times, but more often than not, he’d come in late, drunk and eager to slake his desires with my body. I didn’t want him on top of me again, smelling of cigar smoke, cheap perfume the saloon girls wore and like the bottom of a whiskey bottle. He stumbled up the steps, swearing as he went.
I gripped the frying pan as I stood in the bedroom, waiting.
I wouldn’t hide, nor would I let him touch me. No mo
