How Messy Shall It Be? (2)

"You know, I keep thinking about that night." Her lips started to tremble. "I keep thinking about how Sabina came to us beaten and battered, and somehow you two still had the heart to send her away." 

"Darling." She held a wavering, forlorn and sad gaze with her daughter. "You have spoken enough, please just stop," she whispered, swiping a broken glance towards her threateningly stoic husband. "Your aunt is recovering. I don't know why you need to push on seeing her. She is unwell and is being stabilized from her madness by Prince Kaelixson-Nier. He is keeping her safe and away from any stressors. Do you really think she will be in the mind to handle other matters like seeing you?" 

"Other matters? You think she thinks of me like a fleeting thought like am I to you two?"

"This is exactly why we had to send you away for your own good, Erina. You were and are being so hysterical, of course something had to be done." 

"Hysterical?" Her eyes ballooned, a scathing scoff escaping. 

"Yes, hysterical. Insane almost."

"You think I'm the one who's insane?" Her glare pierced her mother. 

"No, I think Sabina's psychosis is affecting you." 

"Stop making her out to be some deranged madwoman!" Her glare was steaming. 

"We told you to shut your mouth you insolent child!" Lord Sutherton spoke up again, slamming his fist down onto the table so hard she flinched. 

"How can I shut my mouth when you two speak about Sabina this way!" 

"You want to know the truth, child?" He shouted. "You keep asking about Sabina as if she wants to see you. Has it ever crossed your mind that perhaps Sabina doesn't want to see you?"

Her eyes bulged. A piercing pain stinging her burning chest. Her heart raced so quickly she had to catch her breath. "What?" The words seemed foreign to utter, and even harder to speak as it carved into her rising chest. There was a thorn directly inside of her heart so compelling it sent trembles crawling up her spine. "No. That is not true." She swallowed with glazed eyes. 

"Why do you think Sabina wrote solely to me and Anya? We wrote to her that you were away, and she knew how to contact you and she knew where to find you. But she never did. Even now that you've come back, she still has yet to contact you. Why do you think that?"

"No." She vehemently shook her head. "We may have been distant from each other those weeks leading to that night, but she is not ignoring me. Obviously, she is not contacting me directly because something's happened. I bet, Nier told her not to contact me or-or---."

"---I know Sabina more than you think or assume yourself delusional about her," he said, harshly asserting. "If she really wanted to see you or speak to you, it wouldn't matter what anyone said, she would have done it already." His words grappled her.

"No! You don't know what you're even talking about!" She erupted at him. "You don't know anything about Sabina or what she's told me!" 

"No one else played into her delusions except you if anyone should be blamed for her madness maybe you should take the half of it!"

She gripped her fists, a mix of outrage and tears ready to rush out from her quivering voice. "That is not true!"

"You have this idea that Sabina is a victim and not a lying vixen like her mother! When my father married her mother, it was Sabina's mother who stabbed him to death while he slept! That tells you everything you need to know about Sabina and who she's always been destined to be." 

She firmly shook her head. "You don't have a right to say that," she said, stressing every word. "You don't have a right to say that!" The shout nearly ruptured her trembling throat. 

"Raise your voice against me again and I will disown you!" He growled and pushed out from his seat, toppling over his chair, and erecting to his feet in a fury. There was lethal look in his eyes. 

As he stood up, so did Erin. She slowly stood up from her chair, a rebellious fire in her eyes. "Mercy, I would celebrate to be free from sharing the same name as you."

Boiling over with ferocious rage, he stormed over to her so quickly she had not any time to respond before he snatched her by the arm, prying her close enough to whack her. The backhand impacted her with such pounding force that she went plummeting to the floor, and her chair skidding across the floor.

She was down but he hit again, smacking and beating her against her head. 

Lady Sutherton, a cowering audience to the beating remained in her seat. Only after more aggressive slaps to her daughter's face she took to action. She swooped over to them, a torn look of fear on her puckered brows. 

"Daviyd." She hovered behind him avoiding the swinging of his hands. "Daviyd," she begged for his attention. "Please, don't hit her face too much. You can't damage her too much; she is a girl." 

Despite her protests, he continued on striking and hammering. This prompted her to anxiously reach out to touch him, more desperate in her cries. 

"Daviyd, darling, darling," she said, repeating impatiently. "Please, careful of her face." Panic flushed in her wavering gaze. "Darling, please! Enough!" 

He shoved off her goading touches and pleads, making her stumble backwards. He stopped only once he drew himself to breathlessness and a heaving chest. His hand was still raised, but it remained there, hovering for violence like a guillotine. 

For a moment, frozen in time, Erin laid there motionless on the floor, and Lord Sutherton met the same standstill. Tight-lipped, he didn't find the words to speak. Instead, he clenched his jaw, burning holes into her. The resentment and fleeting remorse in his eyes were sizzling.

Weakly, as if her body had been dislocated, Erin sat up with a crooked spine and a lopsided tilt to her head.

Even without a word, she knew. Everything from the sound of his breathing burning a slow rumbling pot of pure fury to the pointed rage searing in his eyes. His knuckles were visible and pressed so tightly together, his prepared fist might as well have struck her again. Even though he was wordless, she didn't need another word to understand what he wanted to say.

"You." He opened his mouth, disapproval snarling his lips. "You are the only one who makes it difficult. It only takes a hit or two for any sensible child to earn some sense, yet why do you force my hand?" 

Blood trickled from her busted lip, and his raised fist still hovered, prepared to strike. Yet despite the threat, she didn't hesitate to look him straight in the eyes with a fiery look. 

Lady Sutherton looked towards her husband, guilt swiftly whittling her down with every inhale. "Daviyd," she muttered. "Please." She gently touched his shoulder. "You've done enough."

Irately, he thrust his wife's touch away, directing his fury back to Erin. "You want the truth! Huh? This is the truth!" He dug into his pockets and threw a crinkled letter to her. "Sabina doesn't want to see you! She told us to tell you to stay away! That's she wanted to left alone at her mental retreat to recover! That's what she told us, and that is your truth!" 

Quiet, Erin kept her glare steady as she picked up the letter. 

"Daviyd, Sabina told us not to tell her," Lady Sutherton muttered looking to the letter. 

He glanced once at his wife, and then to his daughter before storming away from them both. The door slammed on his departure. 

Quickly, Lady Sutherton looked to Erin. "Erina," she said, softly. "Let me help you up." She reached out to her, but before her hands even neared, Erin stood with a tethering wobble.

"No." She pulled away, wiping off the blood from her lips and gripping the letter. "No."