True Control (11 page)

Chapter 27 HER

I feel a prick on my arm and moan. “I’m sorry, honey. You’re still so dehydrated, your veins are hard to find.”

A nurse smiling at me. That’s the first thing I see. Her hand pressing on the inside of my left elbow. My left arm is white with bandages. Tubes come out of my left hand. I follow them up to a bag of clear liquid, back down. My right wrist is wrapped too. I swallow several times and she brings me a cup with a straw. Cool water hits my throat and I don’t think I’ve loved the feel of anything more in my life.

I cough a little and she plumps up pillows behind me.

“Your family is going to be very happy to see your baby blues open, honey.” She walks towards the door. “I’ll get the doctor too.” I want to tell her to stop. Wait. Don’t tell anyone that I’m awake…not yet. Please!

But she’s gone.

I close my eyes, but the solace of sleep is lost to me. I hold my breath waiting. I keep my eyes closed.

I can hear the door open. It’s quiet but the sound from the hall gets louder for a moment.

“It’s good to see you awake. How are you feeling?”

A stranger. A doctor. I open my eyes. He’s youngish, smiling, looking at a chart. Nice, clean cut. I vomit on him.

He steps back quickly and goes into the hall, “Nurse!”

But he returns to my side and pulls the sheets to cover the small amount of vomit on the side of the bed. He wipes my face and the front of my gown. I’m too weak to turn away from him. Too numb. He removes his jacket, leaving it on the floor without a care.

A nurse quickly comes in and he directs him to get a maintenance person in here right away. And to take my temperature. I watch all this silently.

Then he smiles at me again. Nice. I want to cry and apologize, but I stay silent, the movie going on around me, but I’m not really in it. “Feel a little better?”

I only nod, but frown at the pain this causes. “Do you know where you are?” He puts a light on my eyes and directs me to follow it.

“In the hospital?” My voice cracks.

He picks up the cup and straw and holds it for me. “Take small sips.” I do. Keeping my eyes on him.

“Yes. You were brought in early this morning. Do you know your name?”

“Lucy Traeger.”

“Good. How about what day it is?”

I only shake my head, more frowning with pain. Time is fuzzy.

“You don’ t have a concussion, Lucy. You are still dehydrated though. And you have a small infection from the bite marks on your left arm. You’ve been running a temperature from it, but we’re keeping this down.”

Behind him the door opens again, this time for a longer time. I stop drinking. I freeze.

Max. Oh, God. Everybody. I don’t look at anyone. I look at the bed, with my wrapped up arms on the cover.

Max is by my side. His hand on the bed, where the vomit is hidden under the sheets. I start to retch again, my throat uncontrollably moving in long motions against my attempts to breathe. The doctor pushes Max aside and puts a dish under me just in time.

The doctor again wipes my face for me. I avoid looking at Max, but there’s no missing his look. His angry look. I lean my head back and close my eyes again.

“I think we should let Lucy rest while we get her bed and gown cleaned up.” The doctor directs everyone to leave.

“I’m not leaving.” Max’s voice. His strong, in control, edged voice. The doctor doesn’t argue. No one would argue with that voice.

But he stays against the wall. I only open my eyes enough to see him staring at me, but I pretend to have my eyes closed.

Two women come in and make quick work of moving me around the bed and getting it remade with fresh sheets and me in a fresh gown. I’m a ragdoll again, weak and powerless. I start to cry when they walk away.

Max is quick to be my side again, but I turn away from him before he can touch me. I roll over onto my right side ignoring the pain this causes. I turn into a ball and cover my face with the new sheet. I make no noise as I cry. I know he doesn’t leave, but he doesn’t touch me either. He stops at the end of the bed.

I finally stop crying, but I don’t move the sheet away.

I can hear the door open again.

And I feel a hand on my shoulder. “Lucy? Sweetie?” Mom. I start to shake and cry again. I don’t want to see her either. I don’t want anyone to see me.

“Lucy, it’s okay, sweetie.” Mom’s hand is soft, brushing my shoulder, “You’re safe now. It’s okay.”

Her touch is gentle, but it feels like a live wire on me. I don’t want to be touched. I move my shoulder to get her hand off of me, “Stop! I just want to be left alone…” It’s a whine, a plea, a yell.

“Lucy...” Max’s warning voice.  So familiar.

I respond as I always do. Tingle. Pulse. I want him. I want him, but...

I move the covers and only let my eyes poke out. “I want to be left alone.” This time my voice is more even, a little stronger.

I don’t quite meet Max’s eyes. I look at his chin. But his look darkens, his jaw sets, brow frowns. He even takes one step towards me. But he stops.

Mom only pats my shoulder and says, “Okay, sweetie. We’re all here…whenever you’re ready.” She leaves squeezing Max’s arm. His face has returned to neutral, but his eyes are still narrowed.

I don’t say anything, just roll back over and pull the sheet up again.

Max doesn’t leave. He stands there watching over me. I can feel his eyes on me, but I don’t move.

A nurse comes in with meds. I don’t ask what they are. I just take them with my eyes averted.

I don’t roll over again, my side and wrist hurt too much. But I push into the bed more and close my eyes. Blocking out the site of Max’s eyes on me.

I can’t face what he’ll say. I can’t face what I think.

I admitted to myself that I blame him. But I can never say that to him.

I can never say how sorry I am either. It would be no use. Sorry will never change what’s happened, what I’ve been through. It wouldn’t change what Ben did.

Chapter 28 HIM

Lucy won’t open her eyes again for me. I don’t say anything. Just watch her.

She turned away from me?! When I tried to comfort her. Tried to touch her. She turned away.

I still feel as helpless as I did when she was missing. I want to scoop her up and hold her close. Never let go. But she looks so fragile. So broken.

Her breathing evens out briefly. She sleeps a little. But her body twitches, her little moans escape.

And I’m hard.

I’m fucking hard. I’m sick. Looking at her, here, like this. But her little moans…I want to make them mine again. Just like in my dreams…beaten and mine.

Instead she’s beaten beyond recognition by another man. I have to stop my hands from clenching. I have to remind myself to remain calm. That the worst is over. She’s home. She’s where she belongs.

But she turned away from me.

I’ve known fear in my life.

Fear that my deadbeat Dad would or wouldn’t come home. Fear that Mom wouldn’t be able to stop herself once she started hitting me. Fear that I wouldn’t live up to Ron’s expectations and demands.

That brief but hot fear that Lucy would leave me once she knew the truth about me.

But the fear of the past ten days. I’ve not known this. A complete helpless fear.

I’ve been what society would call a victim before. As a small kid. But even then, something in me knew that I stayed because I chose to. I had to protect my little brother. I was more afraid for him than for myself. I even stayed for my Mom. I knew she needed protecting too. She needed to be loved no matter what.

And the arrogant, cocky bastard in me always knew that I would be a success. That I’d have whatever I wanted. That I would be exactly what Ron wanted and more.

I’ve never felt helpless before. Powerless. I always had choices. And I know that it’s choices that give a person control.

That’s why I don’t give Lucy any.
I
am in control. Of her. Of me.

But not these ten days. And not now. She’s choosing to keep herself from me.

And I want to hurt her. For the fear. For the anger in me. For my lack of control. I want to punish her. But seeing her broken like this…I know I can’t. I know the fear and helplessness again.

Mostly…I just want to hold her. Protect her. Make her safe again. Make her mine again.

I am a monster. And I don’t care. I know who I am. Who she is. And she doesn’t have the right to hide herself from me. Not ever.

Her eyes flutter again and her breathing catches. I know she’s awake, just keeping her eyes closed.

“Lucy.”

Her eyes instantly open. Good girl.

Chapter 28 HER

His voice. The strong, deep voice I love. I crave. I need.

My name on his lips. A curse. A song. A dream?

I open my eyes. And for an instant I don’t know anything. Just him. His body. His eyes. His look.

His anger. And I respond. I moan.

But this brings back everything. Pain, confusion, fear, my own anger. I turn my head away.

His fingers turn my chin to him, but I stop whatever he’s going to say. “Can you get a nurse for me?”

I don’t meet his eyes. But he nods once and walks away.

I can’t do this! I can’t be here. With him!

All my thoughts…that I’ll never be what he wants again…that I blame him…that I was raped…Oh God.

I start to cry again. I can’t get my brain to stop circling. To focus or clear or whatever the hell I need. I’m a drain, everything just keeps running out of me and away. I want to get away!

I’m moving off the bed, trying to stand. Tubes pulling and things beeping.

A nurse and that doctor come in quickly, followed by Max, Mom and Dad.

The doctor helps me to stand. Gently. “Do you need the bathroom, Lucy?”

I nod. He helps me to walk over to the door to a small bathroom, bringing my IV bag with me. “We’d like to get a urine sample; is there a receptacle in the toilet already?” The nurse nods to this. This is so humiliating. I still can’t use the bathroom by myself. I moan in frustration and pain.

I close the door as much as I can with the IV monitor in the way.

When I come out, the doctor is gone, replaced by a new face. A short red-faced man in a crinkled suit.

The nurse helps me back into bed. I can’t believe how stiff and sore I am. The smallest motions are making me whimper and hiss. My side is on fire. I can see Mom’s face wince and Max’s face set with a deeper shade of anger.

“I’ll check with the doctor if we can give you anything for the pain, honey…” The nurse leaves.

All eyes stare at me. Max, Mom, Dad, and this new guy. Max hasn’t softened his look. His eyes pierce me. I’m glad others are here now. I want to be alone, but I’m glad not to be alone with him. I can’t face what he’d say, what I’d say.

“Lucy, I’m Detective Killaney.” The short man smiles and looks awkwardly at my bandaged hands and arms, putting the hand he was offering to me back down. “I need to get a statement, if you’re up for it.”

Max steps in, “She needs her rest now, Killaney.”

“I…I can…” My voice is small. Everyone looks at me though. No one else notices how Max’s expression changes. Dark to darkest. I shudder. A cardinal rule broken, contradicting him.

“Good. We’d like to get everything down while it’s still fresh in your head…” Killaney pulls up a chair next to my bed, making everyone move out of his way.

“Can you…Can you tell me if Ben…?” I can’t help but see Max almost shake with anger behind the detective.

“How bout you give me all the details you can remember first…”

“Ok.” I look at my hands on the cover, “Can…can we talk in private?”

I don’t look up, but Mom and Dad turn quickly to leave, kissing my head as they go. They don’t want to hear the details. I glance at Max; he only squares his shoulders and puts his hands in his pockets. “I’m not leaving, Lucy.”

“Please?” My eyes swim with tears, but I don’t look up again as I plead.

“If you want to do this now. Fine. But I’m not leaving.” His ‘that’s final’ tone.

I don’t say anything else and Killaney settles back into his chair. “Why don’t you walk me through last Friday…?”

I take a deep breath. I swallow thinking about how long ago it was. It was only ten days, but it was another life. Another me. “I left the house just after 1:30. When I got out of the cab in front of my doctor’s office, I heard a man call my name. I thought it might…that Max might’ve come for the appointment. I turned and don’t remember much after that…a blurry memory of being put into a car and the door slamming. I woke up in the trunk of Ben’s car just before we got to his place.”

I avoid looking at anything but my hands. My fingers press, pull, play, trying to distract me. My face is hot, breathing is hard. But my voice is surprisingly calm, detached telling these details.

I describe the beginning. When I figured out who he was, where I knew him from. That he said he’d stalked me for weeks at a time, but was going to give up. His lucky day, he said. No, I don’t remember seeing him before that Friday. Just that one time in Italy.

My voice catches answering the detective’s questions about Italy. “He said he noticed how I was with my husband. He said he wanted that for himself.” I don’t add that he said I was already well trained for his tastes.

I describe getting away.
My
lucky day. How Bitch was hurt when he pushed me off the bed onto her. How he was drunk every night, but especially last night. How I ran, how I hit the dog, how I ran. How I drove over him. How I got home is a daze, but I made it.

I don’t describe what he did to me though. I can’t.

Killaney wants to know. Needs to have everything out, to write everything down.

I finally take one more deep breath in. If I say it fast, maybe I can get it all out…

“Ben was hot or cold. One minute he’d be quiet and kinda nice. The next he’d hurt me. With his fists, boots, belts, rope, spatulas, newspapers, a small wooden figurine thing he had by the bed, whatever was within reach.” I itemize this like a grocery list. Trying to push away the memory of every item in his hands, on my body.

“He kept me in Bitch’s cage when he left for work, and on a leash, with a small choke collar when he was home.” I rub my hand over the small bandage on my throat. I don’t know what happened to that. “The dog…kept me from getting loose. Those teeth.” I shudder…but that unfamiliar smile takes over my lips again. I cover it with my hand. “She won’t be using her snarling teeth again on me…”

Killaney shifts in his seat. I’m brought out of my strange memory of the impact of dog, skillet, and arm.

I continue in the same small, quiet, calm voice. Only by saying it fast can I get this out. I close my eyes. “Ben raped me. Several times each day. I lost track of how often. My mouth, my cunt, my ass…” Ben’s words. I can hear his voice in my head, next to my ear. His ugly words, making me say them, making me beg with his words.

I hear Max’s feet move closer to the bed, feel the bed shake. But I don’t open my eyes. I can’t.