“I am just going out to deal with him.” The look in his eyes gives her chills. No, the man should have known better than to mess with Victor’s family.
“He will be dealt with and I can promise you he will never work with children again.”
Victor heads to the barn on his property. It is where all his animals are housed. Today he has an especially vile animal to deal with. Walking through the property of his home in the setting sun, he flashes back to the image of Summer throwing herself on top of Jonah to protect him and his rage builds.
When he steps into the barn his two stable hands turn to look at him. “We tied him in stall three, Mr. Yates. Be careful sir, he is furious and shouting about the law.”
Victor grins at them. He enters the stall and looks at the large man standing across from him and his grin fades replaced by rage. The chair provided for him is kicked aside and his arms are tied to the walls of the wooden stall.
“Mr. Sanders, you have some explaining to do?”
Mr. Sanders looks relieved, “Finally, somebody talking some sense. Mr. Yates, I assure you, what you witnessed was a reaction to that whore of a maid interrupting our tutoring session.”
“I see. Untie him.” Victor orders and the two stable hands look startled. “Now!” He orders.
They jump to do as ordered and Mr. Sanders is pleased as he shakes his freed arms to return circulation to them. His black greasy hair is disheveled, and his normally impeccable suit is dirty and musty from the dirty hay floor. “I should do with a glass of whiskey,” he murmurs.
Victor speaks carefully as he pulls his jacket off, hanging it over the stall door, he rolls up his sleeves. “I would like my questions answered as quickly as possible, Mr. Sanders. How many times have you struck my son?” The quiet rage behind the question has Mr. Sanders stammering.
“I never…” he starts to object. Victor lunges forward a step, punching him hard in the gut. The fat man falls to the ground, gasping for air. Coughing, he struggles to get to his feet.
“Wrong answer!” Victor replies and asks again. “How many times have you struck my child?” He demands.
Mr. Sanders looks up realizing the situation he is in and laughs, “Only as often as the little brat needed it!” He coughs and spits on the dirty ground standing back up.
Victor sends a kick towards the man’s stomach as Mr. Sanders grabs for his leg to stop the blow. Moving with the kick, Victor throws a sharp punch to Mr. Sanders face, snapping his head back from the blow and forcing him to release his leg. Victor pushes his advantage and hits Sanders again, smashing his nose, followed by another hit to the man’s soft stomach. As Sanders bends over, grabbing his stomach. Victor steps in and brings an elbow down on the back of his fat neck, driving the large man into the straw floor of the stall. A swift kick to the man’s ribs has him groaning on the ground and gasping for air.
“What are you going to do, Mr. Yates, kill me over some whore!” He groans out, spitting blood from his broken nose.
“That whore is Lady Denning, daughter of a well-known Doctor, Mr. Sanders. Your attack on her and my son are tantamount to attempted murder.” His face goes pale and he tries to rise up again. This time Victor does not hold back, he punches him hard to side of his head and knocks him out completely.
“Tie the bastard up for the night, I will ring for the constable in the morning.” He storms out of the barn and back to the house. “I need a drink.” His rage has him trembling with the urge to go back and beat him again.
Creak. The door pushes open and the sound of little feet padding on carpet causes her to smile softly.
“Have you come for your story, Jonah?” Summer wonders turning to look at him.
“I, I, Summer, are you going to leave me like my Mama?” He sniffles.
Her grin fades and she fights to sit up and turns up the lantern beside the big four poster bed. She quickly fluffs a pillow behind her and adds another for the child, then pats the bed. “Come on, then.”
Quick as a flash he is in bed, snuggled into her side and giggles as she covers him with a blanket. “You smell good, Summer.”
“Thank you, Jonah,” she winces when he flips and bumps her side.
“Are you gonna die, Summer?” His innocent wide eyes tug at her heart strings.
She sighs, brushing back the dark bangs from his eyes. “Jonah I can’t promise I won’t leave you, for that is a promise only a fool makes.”
“Et stultus?” Jonah questions.
“Oh my! I… you shouldn’t say that, Jonah, but yes that is correct. Understand, that while I would not willingly leave you, sometimes our intentions are not our own. I can promise that while I am with you, I will protect and watch over you, how is that?”
“Nope, I’m gonna ask my Dad if I can keep you,” he says spinning back around and plopping down on the bed, pouting.
“Jonah,
