by Shae Banks
It swung open as he reached me, grabbing me by the hair.
I tried to scream, but the sound stuck in my throat as he yanked my head back, wine spilling from my glass down my leg.
“You had to open your fucking mouth, didn’t you?”
I tried to shake my head, but he had such a tight grip on my hair it was painful to move. “No… I didn’t.”
He lowered his head, his cheek rough against my face. I could smell whisky on his breath as he growled, “Lying, little slut.”
He pushed me away, and I stumbled into the dining room, tripping over my own feet, and landed awkwardly, the glass shattering beneath my hand as I tried to break my fall.
I didn’t need to look to know the cut was deep and that glass was embedded in my hand.
He didn’t give me time to check the damage, his foot connecting with my side and kicking me into the wall. My head hit the baseboard, stunning me, and my vision blurred.
“You got checked at the clinic, didn’t you?” He spat, dragging me to my feet and pinning me against the wall with his hand on my chest.
My left eye was swelling, the brow throbbing, and I winced at the pain. “I… I had to. Johnathan, I’m… Please…”
“Her sister told her. You stupid, little slag. She’s kicked me out.”
Her sister? I didn’t know she had one. How could I? “I don’t know her sister. I didn’t tell anyone—”
“Don’t fucking lie to me!” he roared.
I turned my face away, but he moved his face in front of mine and snarled, “I fucking heard you tell your two little friends everything.”
Nausea turned my stomach. He’d been here for a long time. Had he been drinking Callum’s whisky? I didn’t dare look away from him to check the bottles on the bar, but he must have been.
“Where—” He slapped my face so hard my head turned, cutting me off, and I sobbed in pain. “Johnathan, please don’t—”
“Shut the fuck up,” he snarled, grabbing my face. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Was this the plan all along? Fuck me over. Cost me my life and then shack up with that fucking toff?”
I wanted to scream at him. No, no, that wasn’t what happened. He caused it. He started it. I tried to end it, and he wouldn’t let me go. Callum had helped me walk away, but it wasn’t because of him. It was Johnathan who ended us. Not Callum. But I was too frightened to say any of that. It was all I could do to remain upright.
My hand was throbbing, clearly bleeding. I didn’t know about my eyebrow.
“Working your way up,” he spat. “Do you know anything about him? Do you even know where he is now? What he does?”
I shook my head and met his furious gaze. His eyes were bloodshot. Questions tumbled through my head, but I couldn’t voice any of them. When had his wife thrown him out? When had she been told? How long had he been drinking? How long had it been since I was at the clinic? I tried to work it out, but the last few weeks had merged into a hazy blur.
He released me abruptly and ran his hands over his face. Taking the chance, I turned and stumbled toward the kitchen.
He started to laugh as I pushed my way through the kitchen door, hoping the backswing would slow him down so I could get to the back door and unlock it. There were bars just a few hundred yards from the hotel, if I could get to one of those he’d leave me alone. I could get help.
His laughter followed me as I crashed into the back door, grappling with the top bolt.
“Don’t be stupid,” he said, grasping the top of my right arm and dragging me back.
I tried to tug free, to get back to the door, but his other arm grabbed me around the waist and he lifted me up, hauling me back into the kitchen. Blocking the door, he released me and gave me a hard shove.
I stumbled, twisting my ankle. As I fought to keep my balance, I slammed my hand into one of the tall refrigerator doors on my right. The blood from the wound caused my hand to slide, the glass still embedded in my palm grinding deeper, making me scream out.
“Careful,” he said as I landed on the hard tile with a thud. I heard his footsteps behind me, and scrambled away, remembering the last time he’d had me trapped on the floor, fighting to get myself back on my feet before he reached me.
Too late, he gripped my ankle and pulled me back, and I turned over to see him standing over me.
“How much is he paying you?” he asked, his face twisting with rage. “Must be a lot. A live-in slag costs, even a cheap little whore like you.”
He was just trying to hurt me, but it wasn’t working. He was making me angry.
“I’m not a whore,” I ground out, shuffling backward on the floor.
He stepped forward. “No? You let me fuck you in exchange for a reduction in rent. What would you call it?”
That wasn’t it at all. I’d loved him. I’d waited for him. I’d eaten up every fucking lie he’d told me for over a year.
Truthfully, I had considered myself his whore. What else would you call it?
But I was wrong.
Callum had disciplined me for it.
Not seriously, but that wasn’t the point. I understood the method behind it. He knew that wasn’t what I was, he’d made me see the truth. The method was unique, but the lesson was learned. I liked it. I wanted more of it. I’d let him take it further. I looked forward to the next time.
But there wouldn’t be a next time if I didn’t get away.
“That’s not fucking true,” I screamed, kicking out at his leg as I turned and scrambled away.
I’d taken him by surprise, buying myself a few precious seconds to find my feet and put some distance between us.
I skirted around the central island that housed the gas stove and ovens, watching him closely.
“You little bitch.”
I don’t know why this was the insult that sparked my temper. He’d called me worse. He’d done worse. But that was enough. “Fuck off, Johnathan. I gave you everything I had. I loved you. I waited for you! I gave up my friends and family for you. And for what? You fucking used me. Don’t make me out the bad cunt here. You brought this on yourself.”
I was edging toward the door, hoping he’d follow me the long way, but he didn’t. He was staring me down, chest heaving, waiting for me to make a move.
It couldn’t go on much longer. I needed to get away.
“You’re both gonna pay for this,” he said.
I laughed. “Your act is slipping. That’s the thing, I know you. You act like you’re something, but you’ll always be a scummer from Beckside.”
His face twisted. He hated being reminded of where he’d come from. He was raised in a similar area to me, his background similar to mine. He’d just had a break in his career and done well. He’d worked his way out. His brother hadn’t been so lucky, not that he talked about him much. He couldn’t afford to be associated with a petty thief and drug addict, although he wasn’t so far removed, judging by his conduct tonight. “Best you shut that smart mouth before it gets you into trouble.”
I’d made it to the edge of the worktop beside one of the ovens, I was a few steps from the door when he darted in the opposite direction. I was seconds from the door, but I knew I wouldn’t make it to the entrance hall before he caught me. So I ran straight at the wall and grabbed the phone.
Punching buttons, I dialed zero for an outside line and then nine three times before slamming the heel of my bleeding right hand into the red box inches to the right.
The fire alarms screeched to life, deafening me, just as his hand closed around my throat. “I’ll fucking kill you.”
With the alarms blaring, I barely heard him. Panic took over as I gasped for breath, and I dropped the phone. He squeezed harder, thumb crushing my windpipe, and my vision began to blur.
I struggled against his firm grip, and he used his free hand to slap my face, but it barely registered as the sound of my pulse in my ears slowed its tempo. I was dying. He was going to kill me, and there was nothing I could do to save mys
elf. Then I was falling.
I wanted to throw out my arms, but they wouldn’t work. I tried to find my feet, to turn and run but my body was useless.
I tried to say his name, to beg him to let me go, to let me live, but my mouth wouldn’t move. I tried to call for Callum, but that was pointless, too. He wasn’t here. The wail of the alarms faded, and I faded with them. My mind filled with the image of churning water and a breaking dawn.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Bekah? “
I didn’t recognise the voice, but it was gentle. Friendly.
Female.
My head was fuzzy, and I winced at the pain in my temple.
“Bekah, can you look at me?”
I opened my eyes and quickly closed them again, the light too bright.
“You’re safe. You’re at the hospital. You were unconscious when you arrived, and you’ve been in and out for the last half hour. I’m Sarah, the nurse looking after you. You’ve taken a bad knock, but you’re going to be okay.”
I swallowed. My throat was tender. “Callum.”
“He’s just gone for some fresh air.”
“John…”
“Who is John?”
I shook my head. “He… He…”
I choked, my throat contracting, and cutting me off. “It’s okay, you’re safe here. The police are outside, and Callum should be back in a couple of minutes, okay?” she said in a soothing voice.
Glancing at my left arm, I noticed a blood pressure cuff and a heart rate monitor stuck to my bloody middle finger.
Tears welled in my eyes, and I blinked them away, focusing on the nurse again. She was filling in a form, and after removing the monitor from my finger she moved around the bed to my other side. I was covered with a white blanket that was smeared with blood, and the curtains around my cubicle were closed.
I wanted to ask questions but didn’t have the strength, so I tried to remember what had happened.
Johnathan had let himself in. He’d attacked me. I remembered the kitchen, his hand on my throat. There wasn’t much else coming to mind. “He tried to kill me.”
“The police will take a statement once you’re checked over. There’s no rush for that, though.”
I nodded and rested my head against the pillow.
I was tired.
“How much did you have to drink?” she asked, looking back down at her form.
“Five glasses of wine. Large ones.”
She nodded, scribbling something down. “Now that you’re more lucid, I need to stitch your hand. Your head is already glued.”
I wasn’t aware I had a head injury and looked at my right hand. It was bandaged, and I couldn’t feel much from it.
“Can I?” She pulled up a chair and indicated my hand. I noticed a trolley at her side.
I nodded.
Unwrapping the bandage, she said, “It’s a nasty cut, but I think you’ve missed any tendons. It’s just a case of washing it out and removing any glass that’s left.”
“Who found me?” I asked as she prepared everything she needed from her trolley.
“I think they all arrived at once from what I could make out,” she said as the curtain moved back.
“Bekah, thank god…”
Callum was at my side in an instant, stooping over the bed and holding my face in his hands. “You were unconscious. You were so pale. The blood, I...”
“I’m okay,” I said, wincing as the nurse examined my hand. “Sit down while…”
“Sorry. I’m sorry.”
I’d never seen him so nervous.
“If you can sit down, Mr. Lowell,” the nurse said, “I’ll take care of this, and Bekah can get some rest.”
“Of course. Yes. I’m sorry.”
I turned my head to the left, keeping my eyes on him while the nurse cleaned and numbed my hand. “What happened?”
He licked his lips, taking my left hand. “My taxi was passing as the fire engine pulled up outside. I got out, opened the front door. I… He’ll pay for this, Bekah.”
The nurse cleared her throat. “Try to keep still. We don’t want to sedate you if we don’t have to.”
“Sorry. Callum, just…”
Tears were rolling freely down my cheeks, and he raised his free hand to wipe them away. He was shaking. I closed my eyes briefly, battling for control. “I just want it to end.”
“It will. It has. He won’t hurt you again, I swear.”
He couldn’t promise me that. It wasn’t his job to keep me safe. Johnathan had gone too far, but I couldn’t plead innocence. I’d contributed to the situation, allowed it to carry on.
I didn’t say anything else while the nurse tended to the cut on my hand.
Callum remained by my side, holding my hand in both of his until she was finished.
“Get some rest,” she said, pushing her trolley toward the foot of my bed. “I’ll try to find out if they’re keeping you.”
“I want to go home,” I said weakly.
Callum nodded. “She can stay with me.”
She smiled. “I’ll pass that on.”
Once the curtain was closed behind her, Callum left the chair and perched on the edge of my bed. “It was my fault. I’m sorry.”
I pulled in my brows, confused.
“The back door.”
I shook my head. “You locked it. I opened it to let Kaz out for a smoke. He wanted to get in. Even if that door was locked, he’d have found another way.”
“I’m so sorry.”
I sighed. What was he sorry for? It was my mistake. “It’s done now. Forget about it.”
He rested his forehead against mine. “I thought…”
“So did I,” I said quietly, my throat raw. “He said he was going to kill me.”
“You must press charges. I intend to. He cannot get away with this.”
I nodded. I had to. Everything he’d done, all the awful things, and I’d been prepared to let them go to be free to move on, but he really had gone too far. “Have the police spoken to you?”
He nodded. “They’d like to speak to you, but the staff said you were too sick.”
“Are they here?”
He nodded. “You don’t have to speak to them. Not until you’re ready.”
I shook my head and tried to move myself up the bed but everything ached. “It’s easier to get it done.
“Do you want me to…?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Doubt I’ll be able to sign anything, though.”
He left me, and I closed my eyes. What would happen to Johnathan? Would he go to jail? Would it all be made public if it went to court?
What was important was that he paid for what he’d done, but I couldn’t help wondering how the whole mess would affect my reputation. I’d kept our affair secret until the previous night, the only people who knew were my sister and Callum. And Callum had wanted me despite it.
Alone in the cubicle, I thought about the last two months of my life. So much had happened. So much had changed. I’d changed. Largely thanks to Callum.
It was strange, the small things he did and said that made me feel like I was worth something, if only to him.
The curtain opened again and Callum walked in, followed by two female police officers. “Miss Daniels?”
I nodded and looked to Callum. He scanned my face and smiled sadly before sitting at my side. Then I looked to the two police officers and said, “I want to press charges.”
It’s was ten am before we got back to Callum’s apartment. I’d been advised to go straight home from the hospital, but I made him take me to the police station to give my statement instead. I wanted it out of the way while everything was fresh in my mind.
He led me straight into his bedroom, but I paused at the door.
I hadn’t been in here for weeks, but the memory of the last time was as clear as if it had been yesterday. The first step I’d taken in unshackling myself from Johnathan. How I’d let Callum take over, just for that short time.
/> He was silent behind me as I looked at the bed.
“Thanks for letting me stay here.”
He ran his hands down my arms and kissed my head. “You can stay as long as you need. If you never go back that’s okay. I want you to feel…”
He didn’t finish. He didn’t need to. The truth was I did feel safe here with him, and I didn’t want to go back to the hotel. Not yet. I knew I had to eventually, but not yet.
“I’m sorry.”
He stepped around me and dropped to his knees. “Bekah, I’ll never forgive myself. I left you there alone all night. I can’t ever make that up to you.”
Reaching for him with my good hand I stepped forward, stroking my fingers through his hair as he rested his head against my stomach. “It wasn’t your fault. Callum, please.”
He shook his head. “I’m so sorry.”
I reached down for his hand. “Stop. We’ve both had a long night. Let’s get some sleep and play the blame game later.”
He looked up at me, and my heart broke at the guilt I saw in his eyes. It wasn’t his fault.
“It’ll seem better after some sleep,” I said, releasing his hand and heading toward his bed.
I felt rotten. I desperately needed to shower, but the glue on my head couldn’t get wet, and my hand was so heavily bandaged I didn’t want to get it wet, so I stripped off my clothes and climbed into bed instead.
Callum followed, and despite the discomfort it caused I shuffled back until my body was flush with his. “I love you.”
I’d never said it. I’d thought it was too soon. It didn’t seem right. But after the worst night of my life there was nobody I’d rather be with. There was no one who could make me feel better. There was nobody else I trusted.
Callum believed in me. He built me up when everyone else, including myself, had torn me down. He pushed me to find my happiness. He wanted me to realise my dreams.
I didn’t think I’d ever know why. But right then it was enough that he was here.
He was here because he wanted to be.
I had nothing to offer him but still he stayed. He’d seen some of the worst parts of me and he was still here.
