“Quick, hurry,” she harried, pulling on his hand.
“Has she been before the adjudicator?” he asked, striding next to her.
“Blake, she’s been sentenced to twenty-five strokes. It’s happening now.”
Blake cursed and picked up his pace.
He’d promised her—no man would punish her but him. He’d pleaded with his supervisor on Colony 16 to let him leave and even offered to forgo his bonus. To his great surprise, the man turned out to be sympathetic and understanding. He’d released Blake from his remaining shifts and in sufficient time for Blake to catch the only inter-colony shuttle for that day.
On board, he’d wanted to pace about, but he’d been required to strap himself in one of the passenger seats. It took several hours for the shuttle to transverse the distance, hovering above the surface.
Only scant details had been given to him by Yuri—she’d hit another wife and caused a commotion in the Green Dome. How could she be so stupid in his absence? There had to be more to the story than Yuri had described.
As he ran down the travelator, Jen managed to keep up with him, breathlessly telling him about Lysa’s misadventure.
“It was my fault really. Lysa stepped between us and accidently struck Millicent,” panted Jen.
The travelator ended. “Why was she stirring things up in the first place?” He stepped onto the stationary floor and continued his merciless dash.
Jen couldn’t keep up any longer. “She didn’t mean to make trouble. She was trying to help Sym.” Her voice faded as Blake sprinted down a corridor.
His feet skidded as he put the brakes on outside the punishment block. Not a sound came from the room. Was it all done? He kicked open the door and burst into the chamber.
He charged up to the constable and grabbed the man’s wrist, pinning it above his head and the switch swung in the air. Blake heard a collective gasp from the watching onlookers.
“Blake,” wailed Lysa from her prone position.
He couldn’t look at her. Had he come too late?
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” yelled the constable.
Blake released his arm and shoved him backwards, forcing him away from where Lysa lay. The switch remained a menacing threat. “I’m exercising my right to punish my wife.”
“You’re what?” sneered the constable, clutching the switch in both hands.
“You heard me. Now untie her.”
“The punishment has started.”
Blake slowly turned, preparing to see her bared bottom covered in livid stripes. However, her cheeks were pale and unblemished. He released a sigh of relief. He’d arrived the nick of time. “The punishment hasn’t started. I’m taking her.”
The door sprung open and his friends came into the room, halting in their tracks as they took in the sight of Lysa bound and spread, and Blake confronting the constable. They backed to one side, Yuri keeping a tight grip on Jen.
The gathered crowd rumbled into life, their voices rising. “Untie her. It’s Blake’s choice.” There were other voices, arguing in the constable’s favour. He heard a strident woman’s screech over many others, demanding the constable continue. Blake glared at Millicent, and she blanched, shutting her mouth.
He turned on the constable. “If you ever lay a finger on my wife, so help me, I’ll …” he growled and shoved the palm of his hand into the man’s chest. The constable tripped over his feet before regaining his balance.
“Is that a threat?” He flustered, waving his arms about, but kept his distance.
“Damn right it is.” Blake started to undo the straps holding his wife down. “Easy,” he whispered into her ear as she snivelled. He helped her to her feet and picked up the white smock. “Put this on. We’re getting out of here.”
The crowd rose to their feet, sensing the spectacle of a beating was not going to happen, they conversed amongst themselves. Blake dismissed the voices and concentrated on his stunned wife.
“You came,” she managed to say in a strained tone. “I gave up hope.”
“A few more minutes… I don’t want to think about it. We have to go.”
She slipped the dress on and he looped his arm through hers, ushering her towards the door. “The constable…” she muttered.