I pushed a chair out of my way before sliding over the desk and grabbing Simon by his scrawny little neck. He nearly dropped the lantern, which would have been an unfortunate thing because it would have more than likely burned the entire house down. I had enough sense about me to take it from his hand and set it on the desk behind me, all the while squeezing his neck and watching his face turn a very ugly red in the limited light.
Through it all, Rebecca screamed at me, yelled at me to stop. Stop? Can you imagine? Telling me to stop attacking the person who'd hurt her? No. There was no way I would allow this man to live.
She begged again for me to stop, and it just made me squeeze harder. Simon put his puny little hands up to mine to try to release my grasp, but as we have already covered, I was much bigger, much stronger, much more everything than he was. I could have snapped his neck without any trouble. It wouldn't have been difficult at all, but I enjoyed watching the look in his eyes as he realized his life was ending and it was ending because he dared put his hands on my love.
"He hurt you." I said without question. My voice was calm even to my ears, and when I think back on it, I have to wonder how. I was filled with anger. Filled with frustration. Filled with horror of what could have happened if I hadn't walked in and stopped it.
"No," she said beside me with her hands pulling on my arm. "No, he didn't. Stop, Frederick, please. You'll hurt him."
"That's the idea, my love." I sneered at him as I watched his eyelids droop. "No one puts their hands on what's mine. No one hurts a woman in my presence."
"He wasn't hurting me."
"I saw him!" Simon's legs buckled and he fell to the floor. I followed and didn't let him go. We were close to the fire. So close. And I could see Simon much more clearly now. I enjoyed watching him suffer. I liked feeling his heartbeat slowing down as my hand clamped his throat.
I would kill him to defend Rebecca, and no one would think me ill.
"You saw what you wanted to see," she screamed as she began hitting my back. The thing about Rebecca you must understand is even when someone hurt her, she defended them. She was much too nice and too good for her own safety.
"Why would I want to see him hurting you?"
"He wasn't…" She began but was stopped when footsteps entered behind us.
"What, in God's name?" I knew that voice and I hated that voice.
Anthony came up behind me and tried to pry me off of Simon. He was stronger than Simon, I gave him that, but still, I was enraged and that was hard to fight. "What are you doing? Let him go!"
"He put his hands on Rebecca. He was going to hurt her, just as you accused me of hurting her, and you dare defend him?" I kept my eyes on Simon and watched as the last few traces of life left him. He'd stopped fighting. His eyelids fluttered and I knew he had only seconds to live.
"Damn it, Frederick! Let him go!" Anthony screamed in my ear and pulled back as hard as he could.
My hands had tired, unfortunately, and when he pulled back with all his might, I lost my grip and fell to the floor. Simon, that heartless coward, began coughing and, yes, breathing. He rolled over onto his side as he tried to catch his breath — the same breath I had tried so hard to take away.
And do you know what happened next? Did Rebecca come running to me and thank me for being her hero? Did Anthony give Simon the same lecture he gave me?
I can answer you those questions right now.
No. None of that happened.
I was accused of being the villain. The Villain!
I'd saved Rebecca!
I'd avenged her honor!
And I was the in the wrong? How does that even make sense? I can tell you right now, it doesn't. Not in the least. Not in the slightest.
Rebecca didn't run to me. She didn't throw her arms around my neck and tell me how much she appreciated what I did for her. She didn't tell me she loved me, as I had proven my love to her.
No. She ran past me, fell on the floor at my feet, and threw her arms around Simon.
And I just stood there, leaning on the desk to try to stop my legs from shaking, and watched them because I could not fathom what in the world was happening.
She stroked Hartwell's hair and told him everything would be alright. She placed her hands gently on either side of his face and held it, so she could look into his eyes.
Those hands should have been on face. She should have told me everything was alright.
I didn't understand any of it and I wanted answers. I needed them now.
"You need to leave." Anthony said as he clamped his hand on my shoulder. "You are no longer welcome in my home."
"Me?" I scoffed and pushed his hand off of me. "What about him? Simon is the one who attacked Rebecca and no one seems to care! If it were I, as you wrongly assumed in the garden, you would have had my hide!"
"That's enough." He said and grabbed my arm to led me out of the study. I pulled away and, without thinking, bent down and grabbed Rebecca, pulling her to me.