Chapter 39
The floor was as smooth and cold as if it had been frozen for millennia
Elizabeth’s eyes were desolate. The agony of her achy bones was too much to bear. Lawson had thrown her with ruthless force, as if she were a lifeless doll
But she understood. Lawson was furious at her for being a disappointment
Her elbow hit the floor. The pain was sharp and intense. She gritted her teeth, willing herself to rise. Above her, Lawson’s voice was filled with hatred and irritation. He was so angry that he was on the verge of swearing. “If you’re still so desperate and cheap, then don’t carry the Taylor name. The Taylor family doesn’t have a good–for–nothing like you.”
Gilbert held Lawson back, trying to halt the stream of curses. “Stop it. Betty has her reasons”
“What reasons?!” Lawson rubbed his face, and as Elizabeth struggled to her feet, he slapped her on the head again, sending her reeling and staggering back several steps. She could do nothing but stand there and take the abuse.
Elizabeth’s submissive demeanor only infuriated Lawson more. “You’re just trash! Tell me. Are you even a bit like your mother! If you had half her guts, would you be in this mess?”
At the mention of the unspeakable, Elizabeth lifted her head suddenly, staring at Lawson with her deep eyes. Her pupils were bright, and her eyes were red and terrifying, as if she had been holding back tears for so long. She was too afraid to let them fall, and now they were brimming, on the verge of spilling over.
“What are you looking at Lawson bellowed. “What did I say wrong?”
Gilbert tried to silence him. “Scop
“Don’t protect her. She needs to learn a lesson.” Gilbert said.
As he finished speaking, another slap aimed for the top of Elizabeth’s head, but she suddenly grabbed Lawson’s wrist and bit down on his thin suit fabric.
She unleashed all her pain and sorrow in that bite. When she was fierce, it was deadly.
Lawson howled in pain, his skin seemingly torn open, before Gilbert finally pulled Elizabeth away.
Her pupils were dilated and saturated with red. Her teeth were chattering as she said. “My real parents have been dead for a long time, and they don’t need you to teach me a lesson”
“You’re just an ungrateful person, right?” Lawson said. Her words hurt Lawson’s heart. “Who was the one begging me to help you deceive people back then! If I had known you would become a blood bank when you married into their family, I might as well have let you end it all sooner!”
“What do you mean by a blood bank?” Elizabeth questioned
“You’re just cheap!” Lawson shouted.
Elizabeth bit her lips tightly. The argument was suffocating her. Her chest heaved visibly. She almost couldn’t breathe and felt like fainting. Martha rushed out of the room, she saw such a terrible scene.
Lawson’s wrist was bitten and injured, blood soaking through the cuff.
With a scream, Martha hurried up to see. “What’s going on? Why is there blood? Let’s go to the hospital quickly.”
Lawson was never a delicately raised noble young master.
Lawson glared at Elizabeth, spitting in disgust, “My injuries are nothing. It’s her who needs to get her head checked.”
The second floor bedroom lacked a private bathtub. Martha led Elizabeth to her room for a bath.
When
Elizabeth was in a terrible state, with a splitting headache and a haggard face that was terrifyingly gaunt. As her clothes fell away, her limbs looked even thinner, especially her arms, which bore indelible marks from years of needle pricks.
The heat of the warm water rose, filling the bathroom with a misty steam. Only after watching her settle into the water did Martha close the door and carefully step out.
It was foggy inside, and it was the same outside. Martha choked slightly, letting out a soft cough.
- h. Cilbert quickly extinguished his cigarette, his concem unmistakable. How is she?
“Not good,” Martha said, her voice heavy.
“Is she still crying?” Callen asked, his brow furrowed.
Chapter 39
The quarrel had been so fierce that it woke many people in the house, but no one was willing to come down to mediate until Elizabeth began to resist. It was then that Helen sent Martha down.
Martha’s meaningful gaze pulled back from the door and rested on Gilbert’s face. She said in a worried tone, “Not in very good condition, but she’s not crying
“No?” Gilbert remembered Elizabeth as the one who cried the most.
Martha shook her head. “It’s the fact that she’s not crying that worries me. Plus, Betty’s not well. I just took a look, and there are many puncture
marks on her arm
Gilbert crushed half a cigarette, recalling the arrogant and self–righteous look on Franklin’s face when he talked about Elizabeth during the day. Franklin was utterly hypocritical. After all, they were husband and wife.
What Franklin did was inhumane.
“Let’s not let Mr. Taylor know too much about this,” Martha said, her voice low.
Gilbert nodded, having considered it before saying “I understand, but their divorce should be on the agenda.”
The small building was quiet. When the lights were off, it was even more tranquil.
Up on the second floor, it was just Gilbert’s voice echoing, his words harsh and grating. Martha shot him a quizzical look and then quickly masked her expression. “Let them sort this out for themselves”
If his cigarette weren’t already dead, Gilbert would have lit up again.
He was itching for a smoke, but instead, he tried to recount the day’s events in an even tone. “Maybe we were wrong to okay Betty’s marriage to the Jones family from the start, Franklin doesn’t treat her right. Hell, at the hospital, he said Betty was just fine.”
Martha’s face flickered with disbelief. “He said that?”
“Would I make that up?” Gilbert replied, his voice resolute.
After the crowd dispersed, Martha lingered, not returning to her room for a full hour.
Elizabeth had slipped into some fresh clothes, her damp hair draped over her shoulders. She looked lost, clutching the hairdryer like it was a lifeline, the hot blasts of air in her ears echoing the sound of Lawson’s slaps.
“Betty?” Martha called out from beyond the door.
The door creaked open after a bit. Elizabeth moved like she was floating on air after her soak in the hot water, her eyes struggling to stay open.
“Martha.”
“Are you okay?” Martha asked, her voice filled with concern.
“I’m better now,” Elizabeth replied, not even bothering with her wet hair and nodding absentmindedly. “I’m heading back to bed. Let’s not tell my mom about tonight.”
Martha helped her, though the slightest pressure made Elizabeth wince and pull away quickly. “It’s fine. I can manage.”
Her elbow was scraped, and the felt like her feet were made of cotton.
Martha trod lightly behind her, offering apologies for Lawson. “Betty, your brother’s always had a short fuse. Don’t take it to heart.”
“I won’t,” Elizabeth said, her voice monotone.
“Don’t let his words get to you, either Martha added, her tone gentle.
“Okay” Elizabeth agreed, managing to make her way back to her room. Her hand found the doorknob. It felt cold. She leaned on it, speaking slowly. “Martha, I feel like skating in the courtyard tomorrow morning I won’t be saying hello to my mom”
Martha was startled. “Why do you want to go there all of a sudden?”
Lawson’s words tonight had been over the line, and Martha feared that Elizabeth, in her distress, might do something foolish
Martha’s eyes were filled with worry and care. Elizabeth saw it all.
She gave Martha’s hand a reassuring pat. “Don’t fret. I won’t do anything crazy. If I really wanted to follow Mr. Evans, I would have done it three years ago. I wouldn’t wait till now.”
