The Bar

34. Coping

Clara was still sleeping and Flint was fixing up her breakfast. French toast, sausage, and coffee. He was cutting up some fruit when a knock sounded from his front door. He put down the knife and hurried to the door before whoever it was rang the door bell and woke up Clara.

Carter stood on his porch. He ran a hand through his jet black hair and shrugged. His lips were a thin line of concentration. Confusion held over them for a moment, Flint swung open the door and let his friend inside.
Silence grew as the two walked into the kitchen. Flint picked up the knife and began chopping the strawberries.

"Aren't you supposed to be opening today?" Flint says breaking the silence.

"No, Najeem is, he said that I needed to come over here and talk to you," Carter says with a sigh.

"If I needed to talk to you, I wouldnt have invited you here," Flint says with furrowed eyebrows.

"I know, but Najeem says you needed to so...I'm here, brother, what do you need," Carter shrugs and takes in a deep breath.

"I need you to look after Clara, when I'm not around. She's stubborn so I've put her on the day shift, that way she won't run into trouble. But at nights when I am not home, I need you here, make sure she is okay. She is seeing the doctor today for her heart, a specialist, they'll tell us the details about her heart. If I'm not around someone needs to make sure that she isn't... stressing out. I need someone to make sure that her dad or anyone from his church comes around," Flint explains. "I mentioned it to Najeem last night, I didn't think he would take action before me," Flint continues.

"So...I'm going from head bartender to personal body guard?"

"I'll double you're pay."

"This just keeps getting better," Carter says sarcastically with a satisfird grin.

"Yea..." Flint sighs. He puts the chopped strawberries into the small bowl and places it on the tray with the French toast.

"I'll have her come down and meet you." Flint says. Before he can move to pick up the tray a scream sounds throughout the house causing both men to turn towards the staircase.

His hand moved over her mouth, pressing firmly down with so much force that she was sure it could leave a bruise. She felt the burn and sting as he ripped her apart with his deep, harsh thrusts. She tries to scream, not for help, but in pain. Her face is wet with tears. The pain is unbearable, no pleasure could come from this, no enjoyment could come from feeling the pain between her legs. She was so disgusted by how he enjoyed forcing himself inside her. His smirk, his grip that only got tighter, it made her stomach clench, nausea filled her, bile burned her throat. The pain was too much she began throwing her arms in defense, screaming out for the man to stop.

"Clara! Wake up!" Flint pushed her arms down at her sides so she would stop hitting him. She let out one last scream before her eyes fluttered open, sitting up hurriedly. Fear swarmed her. She looked at Flint, his green eyes were full of worry.
She pants, a whimper escapes her. In the second that her brain latches onto reality she wraps her arms around Flint and begins to sob into his chest. The memories haunting her. He caressed her back, combs out her hair with his fingers then calmly kisses her head.

"Its okay, I got you, no one is gonna hurt you," he says.

She sobs into his chest, her hands latched onto his shirt for dear life. She begins to plea for some reason.

"I said no, I swear I did," she sobs. She begs for forgiveness, her mind becoming a haze.

The echos of her father's voice telling her that what she did, lying, having sex, the pain that was forced on her was a punishment, but the pain that came when Mr. Colt took her was even worse.