Looking for Chapter 1? It’s here.
Chapter 2?  Here.

This chapter contains graphic violence.

“What, you’re threatening me now?” Carrie asked. “You think I can’t take care of myself?”

Elisa didn’t answer. Instead, Jamie turned Carrie around to face her. “You couldn’t take care of your husband.” Her eyes were cruel lumps of coal set deeply in her face and framed by those icy blonde locks Carrie wanted to grab with both hands and yank out of her head in clumps. “You couldn’t satisfy him physically. You couldn’t satisfy him emotionally either.”

“That’s not true. He was stationed – “

“Oh yes it is.”

“Look, I gave him a pass. You know he had permission.”

“He didn’t just fuck me. He loved me.”

“It isn’t true. But if you want him, you can fucking have him.”

“Oh honey,” she began, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “I don’t want him anymore. I’ve got a man of my own. And my man would never text another woman behind my back the way Rick did. You should have read the awful, awful things he said. I almost feel sorry for you, being married to such a backstabber.”

She swallowed hard, choking down the memories of the texts she knew he’d sent. “And you loved him, so what does that say about you?”

“I never loved him. He loved me. Do you want to know what he said about you? About being married to you? Raising children with you? Do you want to know all the names he called you?”

Carrie didn’t need to hear Jamie say it. She’d seen the texts on Rick’s phone years before, and she never forgot any of them. Just thinking about the things she read, after taking a twenty-five-hour flight to Singapore in a desperate bid to save what was left of their tattered marriage, was almost enough to bring Carrie to her knees. She blocked out those thoughts, and focused on the here and now.

“Rick was hurting over what I’d done to him,” she said, and nodded her head in Elisa’s direction. “With her husband. I’m the bad guy here. I did awful things to Rick. And if I was that bad to my own husband, who I love, what do you think I’m capable of doing to you two?”

“Oh Carrie,” Elisa smiled, her brow furrowed deviously. “Look at you, pretending you’re confident and brave. I know you’re not. I know that on the inside you’re shaking like a scared little girl. You know that everything we’re telling you is true. But the truth is, Jamie and I don’t want to make you feel bad about yourself. We aren’t here to make you cry over what a miserable failure you are and then laugh about it. We’re here to break you physically.”

Jamie chimed in: “Then leave you lying on the floor while we go back to the ball and party.”

“After all, did you really think I was going to let you lure Alan into your clutches and do nothing?”

“You bitches think I can’t fight both of you?” Carrie’s voice was unsteady. She was confident that she would get a few good punches in, and maybe bloody the other two women up a bit. But she was much more of a lover than anything else, a fighter especially. The thought of defending herself in this manner was frightening. Still, she gathered her courage and looked Elisa right in the eye. “Alan still wanted to be with me. That means you weren’t getting the job done at home. You’re boring and uptight. He told me so the first time we met, and I could always tell it was true. Every time we were in the same room together, doesn’t matter where, I always thought of you with – how did he put it? A huge Christian stick up your ass.”

Without warning, Elisa’s fist crashed into Carrie’s face. She staggered back, unable to breathe. She couldn’t even see. It was like someone was shining a flashlight right into her eyes. Carrie felt burning pain and blood on her face, and she instinctively wiped it away as her vision slowly returned. She could hear one of the women yelling “Hold her! Grab her!” Elisa stood in front of her; Jamie was in the back, trying to restrain her arms. Carrie shook her off, then blindly swung an elbow at her for good measure.

Elisa sent another punch careening at her. Carrie dodged her fist even as Jamie grabbed her from behind once again. Fingernails dug into her skin and Carrie tried desperately to get free. Her adrenaline kept the pain at bay, but Jamie’s persistence was remarkable.

“Hold her…hold her,” Elisa was saying. Jamie did one better and climbed up onto Carrie’s back. Her legs clasped around Carrie’s midsection and if Carrie was able to spare a thought she might have wondered if it was as comical a sight as it seemed. She bounced clumsily from one foot to the other, trying to get Jamie off of her back. It was at this point that Carrie realized that she’d lost one of her shoes when Elisa punched her, so she kicked off the other one as well. She paid no mind to where it landed and turned her attention immediately to throwing off the monkey clinging to her back.

Jamie didn’t make it easy. Her thighs pressed tightly against Carrie’s sides, her feet crisscrossed over her stomach. All the while her hair – the hair she’d just repaired in the bathroom – was being pulled with terrible force. Carrie bucked hard, desperate to toss her opponent to the ground. With renewed urgency she pushed back against Jamie as Elisa reached out for Carrie’s pale and very vulnerable throat.

Quickly Carrie reared back, pulling herself away from Elisa’s grasp. At the same time the back of her head slammed into Jamie’s face and the woman tumbled off Carrie’s back and onto the floor. As she realized she was finally free, Carrie wasn’t sure whether to repay Elisa for that punch in the face, or else turn and pounce on Jamie. She did neither. Instead she grabbed Elisa’s outstretched hands, then swung her head forward. She’d seen people getting headbutted in wrestling matches and it seemed so effortless and consequence-free. She didn’t realize it would hurt her as well.

Still, the sight of Elisa holding her nose bolstered Carrie’s courage. She wasn’t the only one bleeding anymore. She rushed forward, arms extended in an attempt to knock Elisa off-balance. When she reached the older woman, Elisa was ready and swung out, catching Carrie in the face. By now, Jamie was back up on her feet and followed Elisa’s punch with one of her own. Then another and another. Carrie tried to move into a better position but couldn’t; her opponent was standing on her gown. So instead of moving away, Carrie moved closer. She grabbed Jamie’s arm and dug in with her nails, savoring the sound as she screamed out in pain. Blood rose up from the jagged wounds in crimson streaks. At that point, even as Elisa tried to restrain her, it was easy for Carrie to push Jamie off of the dress.

“Hold her!” Jamie yelled.

“No, you hold her!” Carrie used their lack of coordination to her advantage and rushed Jamie, grabbing her by the shoulders and pushing her hard into one of the columns. Jamie’s eyes were wide with surprise and panic, and when she hit the marble with a loud crack Carrie silently hoped it was her spine. Still, she didn’t let up. Carrie maintained her grip on Jamie’s shoulders and slammed the back of her head into the column once, then twice, until her eyes narrowed and then closed completely. Then Carrie let go and she sank to the floor.

She turned to face Elisa, and in doing so noticed that a large group of partygoers had gathered at the end of the corridor. There had to be thirty or forty servicepeople and spouses there, clogging the hallway in their finery and just watching. Carrie was kind of surprised that no one had tried to break it up, actually. She thought someone would have had the guts, the initiative, to step in. She may have even been counting on it, to no avail. She refocused on Elisa, who actually looked scared for the first time all evening.

“It’s your turn now.”

Bolstered by a jolt of white-hot anger, Elisa charged. Her arms swung like flails, desperate to land a blow that would take Carrie completely out of action. But she sidestepped easily, raising her leg to give Elisa a hard kick in the ass as she passed. She pivoted on her feet to face Carrie once again. Her bloody nostrils flared like those of a furious bull, her bruised and swollen lips pulled back to bare her teeth in an animalistic sneer. Carrie would not have been surprised if Elisa snorted and pawed the ground with her foot before charging again.

The two women faced off. Elisa seethed with rage, her eyes narrow and focused. She was trying to psyche Carrie out, to intimidate her into either running away or running headlong into Elisa’s next attack. But the younger woman kept her cool. She wasn’t going to let Elisa provoke her into making any mistakes. They stood there for a long while, mere feet from each other, neither woman speaking or making any sound. Even the crowd had gone quiet lest they miss a muttered epithet.

Carrie spoke first: “Come at me, bitch.”

Elisa lunged, attempting to grab Carrie and pull her close for a beating. Her reach was long, her hands strong and her grasp firm. But none of that mattered when Carrie dodged and swung her own fist. Her arm was far more slender than Elisa’s – indeed, Carrie was certain her opponent could have clasped her hand around Carrie’s bicep and still had room to spare – but unlike Elisa, Carrie was still thinking clearly. Despite the fact that the other two had started it, Carrie was the only one who’d kept her head throughout all of this.

Carrie’s fist connected with the side of Elisa’s head, but the punch barely slowed her. She gave another punch, this time with her other fist against the other temple. Elisa lunged again, and this time Carrie managed to grab her arm before she could ensnare her. Urgently she tried to wrestle Elisa to the ground, unsure what she would have done once she got her there. They grappled together for a moment, Carrie fighting to maintain her grip on Elisa even as her opponent struggled to get free.

Elisa finally broke Carrie’s grip, deflecting another punch before swinging around and catching Carrie in the abdomen with a deft roundhouse kick that sent her stumbling over Jamie, still lying prone beside the column. When she regained her footing Carrie braced herself for another kick. It landed square against her ribs, leaving her breathless. While Carrie was stunned Elisa followed the kick with a strong, sure punch that impacted Carrie’s face, smashing her nose with a loud, sickening crack. She felt her lip split open, blood washing hot and thick over her mouth and down her chin. She spit some out of her mouth and hurried to duck another punch.

Elisa was swinging blind again. Carrie moved out of the way of a one-two combo that might have torn her ears clean off had she been slower. Elisa wheeled quickly on the balls of her feet, trying to stay a step ahead of Carrie as she evaded the continuing assault. One punch missed its target. The next one landed on the side of Carrie’s face. Two more missed. Another hit home, colliding hard against her shoulder. As Elisa prepared her next punch – this one aimed once again for Carrie’s already blood-slick face – Carrie steeled herself, then snatched Elisa’s arm as it shot toward her like a bullet. She swung it toward the nearest column, slamming it furiously against the marble.

Elisa howled in pain as her metacarpal bones crunched under the force of each blow. The column dripped heavy with blood, but still Carrie didn’t let up. When she was finally done battering Elisa’s hand into uselessness, she leaned the older woman up against the marble. Elisa was dazed, clearly deep in shock from the trauma Carrie had dealt her. She cradled her shattered hand, her body trembling, mouth frozen in a silent scream.

Carrie realized that the entire room was suddenly silent. Only the faintest echoes of the ball could be heard in the distance. She readied her fist for one more punch that would surely end the fight in a decisive manner, leaving her standing victorious over both of her assailants and hopefully giving second thoughts to anyone else present who might have considered getting up in her face.

As she drew back her arm, Elisa lurched on her right foot. She was probably instinctively trying to steady herself lest she fall, but there was no sense in taking chances. Carrie kicked high, bending her knee and stomping her foot down on Elisa’s unsteady leg. The assembled onlookers – whom Carrie had more or less forgotten were were standing there – gasped in horror as Elisa’s tibia exploded through her shin, showering the walls and floor with blood and sending bits of bone skidding toward the crowd.

Behind her, someone shouted. Carrie didn’t even turn around. At the same time, the silent scream finally gave way to a blood-curdling cry of agony and terror and Elisa sank slowly to her knees. Which, of course, just made her howl even louder. Carrie moved in close and took her throat in her hands, silencing the scream as she began to strangle her.

“You’re finished,” Carrie said quietly. Her voice was calm, her words almost a whisper. She tightened her grip on Elisa’s neck, watching her eyes bulge and roll back in her head. At the same time Elisa began gasping desperately for breath. Carrie didn’t stop. Instead, she said it again, louder this time: “You’re finished.” She repeated it for good measure, anger in her voice. She was snarling now, her expression quite possibly the main reason no one had yet intervened. “You’re finished. You’re finished. You’re finished.”

Carrie felt herself nearing a state that she could only describe as euphoria. After the cyclone of emotions she’d felt after suddenly seeing Alan for the first time in years, the hurt she felt over coming face-to-face with Jamie, and the anger Elisa had brought out of her, there was something strangely soothing about holding the woman’s throat in her tight grip. Even as she throttled her, Carrie realized how perverse that sounded. She really wasn’t a violent person, and she didn’t know why the thought of killing this woman was bringing her such peace. None of it mattered anymore. Despite the expression on her face, she didn’t even feel angry.

Carrie was shaken out of her ecstasy by the shock of heavy footfalls on the ground nearby. Suddenly hands were all over her. A military police officer was forcing her down to the floor, smashing her face into the carpet in the process. Probably that blonde bitch from earlier, Carrie thought as she felt her arms being pulled roughly behind her back. The familiar click click click click click of handcuffs followed, and then she was restrained. As they pulled her to her feet she could see paramedics lifting Elisa onto a stretcher. One was applying pressure to the gory lower-leg fracture Carrie had given her. Nearby, Jamie lay on the floor beside the pillar where Carrie had left her. Her face was pale, her eyes open a sliver. A paramedic was shining a penlight into the young woman’s eyes. Carrie wondered if she was dead.

A voice sounded clearly over the excited din of the congregation. “That’s my wife! That’s my wife!” Carrie turned to see Rick fighting his way through the crush of onlookers. She was relieved to see someone who presumably didn’t want to kill her, even if she did remember – just barely – that she was supposed to be pissed off at him. She wasn’t sure what to say, or even what kind of look to give him from across the lobby. She managed a weak smile with sad, tired eyes, then looked away as the officers led her out. As she walked through the room, she spied Alan standing among the mob. Poor Alan.

To be continued.