Held by You (7 page)

“Get up.” He swung his boot and the hard toe connected with her side. She cried out as more pain burst through her. Had he just cracked one of her ribs?
“Get up.”

He turned away, leaving her sprawled on the floor. She blinked, nearly blinded by the throbbing in her head. She started to get up when Freddy stood over her.

She froze as he grinned. “You’re like a broken doll, aren’t you darlin’? Just waitin’ for someone to pick up the pieces.” He crouched down beside her and she held her arm beneath her nose, the sweater soaking with blood. He reached out a hand and trailed his fingers along her cheek. “I like to see when the light goes out of a woman’s eyes when she’s broken. It makes everything so much easier.”

Her chest ached and she realized she was holding her breath as she stared up at him, afraid of what he might do. What if he did rape her like she’d feared? Carl would probably just watch and she’d see his hateful grin.

And John… If anything developed between them, he might not want her because she’d be damaged goods, ruined by Freddy.

Freddy was right, she did feel broken. She let out her breath. At that moment despair filled her soul and nothing had ever felt so bleak. She was trapped. There was nothing she could do, and now that Carl had crossed that line, there was no going back. Who knew how often he would hit her now.

She swallowed, still staring at Freddy. He trailed his fingers down the front of her sweater to her breast. She shuddered and flinched from his touch. He gave a low laugh, clearly pleased by everything that had just happened including the way she reacted to his touch. Sick bastard. “I like ’em big,” he said.

“Let’s go.” Carl came up beside Freddy. “Dickey and Floyd went to the Highlander. We can go have ourselves a beer with them.”

Hollie wasn’t about to volunteer that his brothers had been arrested. Let them go and find out for themselves. No doubt she’d be the one bailing out Dickey and Floyd in the morning.

Carl glared at her one more time before he jerked open the front door and passed through the doorway. Freddy, who had still been crouched beside Hollie, got to his feet. He grinned at her then followed Carl out the door.

The moment the door closed behind the men, sobs wracked her body. She cried hard, not just for the physical abuse, but for all the things she’d endured at the hands of her stepbrothers.

Gradually she became aware that her palms were stinging. She looked at them and saw that pieces of wood and abalone had sliced into her flesh and were lodged there. She bit her lower lip as she started pulling out the splinters and shards.

When she finished, she pushed herself to her feet. Her face felt swollen from where Carl hit her, her head hurt from hitting the wall, her nose and ribs hurt, her eyes felt puffy from crying, and her palms stung.

She wiped away tears with her fingertips as she stumbled to the downstairs guest bathroom. Her heart sank as she saw more of her things broken in the bathroom. Carl had clearly searched for her stash in here, too. Everything was pulled out of the cabinet beneath the sink, the extra toilet paper and cleaners, and the cabinet above the toilet where she normally kept the folded towels. The towels were tossed across the bathroom and a bottle of shampoo was on its side on the floor, the shampoo dripping into a puddle.

When she went to look at herself in the mirror she saw that it was cracked in a diagonal line. Her reflection was distorted from the crack, but the blood on her swollen face, her blackening eye, and her split and swollen lip were only too clear to see.

She braced her hands on the porcelain sink, ignoring the sting in her palms as she lowered her head, closed her eyes, and cried.

When she thought she’d let loose every tear inside her, she found a clean washcloth and cleaned up. She wet the cloth and wiped tears and blood from her face. When the blood was gone, she picked up another cloth, wet it with cold water, folded it, and pressed it to her eyes.

A few moments later her eyes felt a little better and she hung the washcloth over the edge of the hamper along with the bloody cloth. She took a deep breath, side hurting, and shored up what strength she had. This time she didn’t look in the mirror, not wanting to see the broken-looking woman staring back at her.

She stepped out of the bathroom and nearly stumbled over a lamp that lay in shards near the door. She wandered from room to room. It looked like the house had been ransacked. Her southern mother would have been horrified and would have made sure the house was spotless before retiring for the night. She couldn’t dishonor her mother by leaving the house in such a horrible mess.

The thought of her mother gave Hollie strength. She got out the broom and dustpan along with a bottle of cleaning solution. When she started to clean the living room, she saw that something red had been spilled on the couch. She looked at it more closely and saw that it was ketchup. She found upholstery cleaner and worked out the ketchup before it could stain the material.

As she worked, her thoughts went over and over her day. She’d been so up and down emotionally that it was like being on a rollercoaster that never ended. Thinking about it only made it worse but she couldn’t seem to stop.

When she finished with the couch, it occurred to her that Carl might have gotten hold of her cash, but more importantly, her family album. Praying she was wrong, she went to the coat closet by the front door. It had been emptied of its contents that were now strewn across the floor. The album wasn’t in sight. Inside she located the sturdy panel that didn’t move easily. It took some maneuvering to open it, but she’d done it so many times she didn’t have a problem with it.

Her cash was stashed in a black bag back beyond the photo album where it was so dark it was almost impossible to see.

She’d hidden the cash, yes, but it was the album that was precious to her. She brought it out and sat on the floor, her back to the front door. She could hear anyone who might drive up and put the album away before it could be seen.

With a sigh she opened the album and a smile touched her lips as she saw her mom and dad’s wedding picture. She gently touched the picture, tracing her mother’s and father’s outlines with her fingertip.

A lump lodged in her throat. Her parents had been so in love. Her father had been devastated when her mother died. When her father told her he was going to marry the woman who became her stepmother, Hollie had told him she didn’t need a replacement mother. She was fine with her father to care for her and she cared for him. But he’d insisted that Hollie needed a woman’s influence in her life. If only he’d listened to her—life would have been so much different.

For some time she looked through the photo album. She smiled as she looked at the photos of her mother laughing and her father smiling, and her own school pictures. She especially liked the photos of the three of them together.

A tear rolled down her cheek. This time it was for the loss of her parents. She missed them so very much. She carefully took a photo our of her mom and dad and tucked it into her purse to keep it close… And just in case her stepbrothers found the album.

After she put away the photo album, she cleaned the house, one room after another. In her room she found the floorboard moved that had hidden the music box. Not only had it been taken, but her small pistol that had been inlaid with pearl, a gift from her father, was also gone.

It had been late when she’d arrived home from John’s, so by the time she finished cleaning, the sun was rising. She paused to look out her bedroom window, watching the glorious sunrise as pink and oranges spread across the horizon.

Exhausted, she lay down on her bed, hoping she could get in a little nap. But no matter how she tried, sleep would not come. She lay there, eyes wide open, her mind ruminating over all that had happened. The rollercoaster of emotions wouldn’t stop—it was never ending.

With a heavy sigh, she rolled off the bed and onto her feet. She headed into the bathroom to take a shower and turned on the water to let it run until it was warm. She stripped out of her bloody snowman sweater, her bra, jeans, and panties. She’d already taken off her shoes and socks.

Once the water was warm, she stepped beneath it, tilting her face to the spray and letting the water wash away the feel of Carl’s hand against her face and every other ugly thing that had happened.

Instead, she let her thoughts travel to John and how sweet and wonderful his kisses had been. She thought of how he’d looked at her, how he’d told her she was beautiful with such sincerity that she’d believed him.

She touched her fingers to her face and her lips trembled. John had told her she should kick her stepbrothers out of her home. Could she do it? Or would they beat her or something equally as bad?

Her body shook as she looked down. She hated that she was a coward when it come to her stepbrothers. She hated how beaten down they made her feel, as if every good thing in her life had been drained away and she’d never be happy again.

She clenched her jaw and turned her back to the spray. No, she was more than that. More than a broken doll to be thrown away and discarded. She raised her chin. There had to be something that she could do. Something.

Tired. She was so tired. Not just physically but mentally.

She let out a long, shuddering breath. It was a new day and she would figure this out. She had to. She couldn’t live like this anymore.

It was close to noon when Hollie headed to the police station to bail out Dickey and Floyd. Thank God Carl and Freddy hadn’t come back. Carl was probably in town at Freddy’s, drunk and sleeping it off. Just the thought of the two men sent a shudder through her.

Right now she was more angry than afraid. What she did know was that starting today, things were going to change. Things had to change if she was to survive.

Her palms stung from her wounds as she gripped the steering wheel. She pulled the car up to the police station and parked. She felt stiff and sore all over and her face and head ached.

When she shut off the car, she slid on a pair of big sunglasses that did a pretty good job of hiding her black eye. She let her hair hang long and loose, and it covered part of her swollen face. Nothing could be done for her split and puffy lip. There was no putting makeup on to hide it. She hoped she wouldn’t run into John and that he wasn’t working today. Even though she could hide her black eye with her sunglasses, she didn’t want to explain why her face was swollen and her lip was split.

This would be the last time she’d bail out her stepbrothers. As a matter of fact, it was the last thing she’d ever do for them. She was ready to draw a line in the sand. She knew she could ask John or the sheriff for help but she intended to do it herself.

She climbed out of her car and despite the sweater and jeans she shivered. Over her car radio, the weather forecaster said to expect snow that evening. She liked the change of seasons, including snow, which was one reason why she was happy living in the northern part of the state as opposed to moving to the Phoenix area.

Sometimes she’d thought of leaving, abandoning all of the bad memories and starting fresh by selling the ranch and moving from Prescott to Phoenix or Tucson. But she had so many good memories here along with the bad. She couldn’t let her stepbrothers ruin it all for her.

Warm air chased away the chill as she stepped into the police station and closed the door behind her. Her sunglasses made everything seem somewhat dark and she wished she could take them off.

Considering the number of times she’d bailed out her stepbrothers, she knew the procedure and didn’t have to be told what to do. As she made her way across the station, her heart skipped a beat when John walked through a door.

Despite everything, she felt drawn to John in a way she’d never been drawn to anyone. His strength, his presence called to her. He looked so good in his uniform, so strong and powerful.

He smiled when he saw her, but immediately his smile faded and his hard features looked both concerned and angry. He headed toward her and was standing in front of her in a matter of a few strides.

“What happened?” His voice was as hard as his expression but his eyes were concerned. “Who hit you?”

She shook her head. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Like hell.” He reached up and took off her sunglasses. He cursed when he saw her black eye and bruised cheek. His voice went low and even harder. “Tell me who did this, Hollie. Dickey and Floyd are here, so was it Carl?” When she didn’t respond he swore again.

“I’m taking care of it.” She eyed him steadily.

John’s eyes were narrowed. If she didn’t know that it was her stepbrother that John was furious with, and if she hadn’t spent some time with him last night, she might have been afraid of him.

He cupped her face with his hand and lightly ran his thumb over her cheek. Even though his touch was feather-light, her eyes watered and she flinched. “This is not okay,” he said. “You’ve told me that you’re afraid of your brothers’ retaliation. This isn’t something you should handle yourself.”

“I’ve made up my mind.” She raised her chin and her gaze didn’t waver as she met his eyes. “This is something I have to do.”

John moved his hand away from her face, his jaw tight. “The sonofabitch assaulted you and you need to report it.”

She shook her head. “Stop worrying about me.”

“Damn it.” He took her by the shoulders, gripping her firmly. “Don’t be stubborn about this.”

She said nothing and his expression made him look like his features were carved out of stone. His radio crackled and he put one hand to it but never took his eyes off of her. He responded to the dispatcher then removed his other hand from her shoulder.

“I have to leave.” His tone was firm. “Stay here until I get back. We’ll take care of it after I handle this.”

She just watched him as he jogged to the door. He looked over his shoulder for one moment when he went through the door and then he was gone.

More determined than ever, she bailed out her stepbrothers but left before they could tell her they needed a ride. Their trucks were probably still parked at the Highlander and they could walk there as far as she was concerned.