by M. S. Willis
A black vehicle pulled up a couple minutes later and a tall lady dressed in a grey skirt suit climbed out of the car. Momma and Daddy approached the lady and they spoke quietly while frequently glancing back at us. When they finished their conversation, Momma came over to the car with the lady right behind her. Momma opened the door and asked for Buddy and me to step out.
Buddy climbed out of the car never letting go of my hand.
“Buddy, sweetheart.” Momma kneeled down to be his height and then turned to indicate the lady standing behind her. “This is Mrs. Morris. She’s here to take you somewhere where you can get help. I want you to go with her and listen to everything she tells you. I promise you she is here to help and she won’t hurt you, Buddy.”
I looked to Momma and my words came out before I could stop them. “But Momma, that’s a stranger. We’re not supposed to go anywhere with strangers. I don’t understand why we can’t take him with us. Where is Buddy’s mommy?” Momma’s face fell and she barely shook her head while she pulled me to her. “Sweetheart, Buddy is going to need to go with Mrs. Morris and I can’t have you arguing. She’s not a stranger and I promise you, he will be fine.”
I began to open my mouth to continue my argument, but Buddy reached over and put his hand on my shoulder. I turned to look into his tear streaked face and kept shaking my head in silent protest to his leaving. Buddy gave me a slight smile. “It’ll be fine, Paige. Just remember my promise. We will see each other again.” Mrs. Morris gave me a sympathetic look and then placed her hand on Buddy’s back to lead him to her car.
When they were almost to the car, I pulled from Momma’s grasp and ran towards Buddy. I reached behind my neck and unclasped the necklace my mother had given me that morning. “Here Buddy, take this. It’ll remind you of me and the promise.” He began to refuse but I shushed him and forced the necklace into his hand. “Just take it.” He nodded in reluctant agreement and I threw my arms around him. “I love you, Buddy,” I whispered. Buddy’s body shook with the force of his tears and he looked down at me. “I love you too, Paige.”
Momma walked over to me and took me by the hand to lead me back to our car. Before climbing in I looked back towards Buddy’s direction. Mrs. Morris had already begun pulling away and Buddy turned to look at me from the rear window. He pressed his hand to the window and watched me as they drove off. My heart shattered at that moment as I watched the only boy I would ever love leaving me. I climbed in Momma’s car and hugged my knees to my chest.
Chapter Sixteen
Beep…beep…beep…beep…beep…beep…beep…beep…
The sound of my alarm clock wrenched me from a deep sleep. Slumber continued to pull me back down and battled against the annoying beeping of the clock. Each trip between slumber and wakefulness buoyed me farther to the waking side. I felt like a slow motion ping pong ball bouncing back and forth between two opposing players. Out of habit, my arm shot out from me with every intention to smash the offensive timekeeper into pieces. Something tugged on my arm and my hand couldn’t locate the clock or the side table. I pulled my arm back to my side and felt tubes and wires with my other hand. Why are there tubes in my bed? It’s a struggle to open my eyes, and when I finally coax them into thin slits, my vision is blurry and I can barely see dark shapes in the dimly lit room.
Buddy. I dreamt of Buddy. Why…?
Beep…beep…beep…
The alarm. I need to find that fucking clock and throw it out a window. With my free hand, I began ripping at the tubes and wires, when a large, strong hand clamped down on my wrist.
What the hell?!
Where am I? My body was slow and my brain was foggy. I tried to remember what I had done the night before. I remember being at Tomb and drinking while spying on Daemon. Did somebody drug me? No, that couldn’t have happened. I never left my drink unattended. I must have a nasty hangover and that is why my body aches so badly. But whose hand is that?
“Damsel?” A low timbre voice whispered to me. “Paige, are you awake?”
Daemon. That’s right. He was supposed to come over after work. This makes sense now. My confused panic subsides and I start falling back to sleep.
Beep…beep…beep…
The clock was irritating me to no end when I asked, “Could you turn the alarm clock off? It should be on the side table.” My voice was horribly gritty and my throat felt like a desert. Small cracks formed across my lips as I spoke and the level of dehydration in my body was surprising. I must have drank more than I realized. A rhythmic pounding assaulted my head and my wrists and ankles were burning and sore. Wrists and ankles?
“She’s awake.” That low voice again, but louder. The sound of multiple footsteps crossed my room. Why are there people here? Why do my wrists and ankles hurt?
My eyes peek through my lashes and I see the forms of several people looking over me. Who are these people? Several voices speak at the same time and I fight to get up from my bed. Two large hands firmly grasp my shoulders and I am gently pushed and held down. I know instantly that it’s Daemon. Despite the pain coursing through my body, I still react with desire at his touch. The combination of sensations was confusing. My eyes blink repeatedly as I cleared my vision to see why he was holding me.
“Damsel, calm down. You need to stop moving and talk to me before you can get up. Can you do that, please?” The comforting lilt to his low, seductive voice soothed me into submission.
Dreamily, I whispered, “Okay, just keep talking like that and I’ll do anything you say.”
Daemon chuckled softly and before he could respond, I felt other sets of hands on me.
“Ms. Stone, do you know where you are?”
The female voice that spoke to me helped clear away my confusion and I was once again aware of the fact that Daemon and I were not alone. I rubbed my eyes and when I pulled my hands away a hospital room came into view. Daemon stood with two nurses by my bedside and my eyes locked with his while the nurses bustled around us checking monitors and medical equipment that hung on poles around my bed. Daemon’s gaze never left me and the desperation and pain I saw behind those eyes caused an ache in my chest. Why am I here?
My eyes caught Daemon’s gaze again and I noticed the dark circles that marked his normally perfect face. He was still wearing the clothes I last remember seeing him in and a darker shadowing of facial hair has spread down his jaw.
“Ms. Stone?” The older brunette nurse spoke again. She wore purple scrubs and white tennis shoes and her grey streaked hair was pulled back in a purple ribbon. Even at her age, she was attractive and appeared to be kind. “Are you in pain, Ms. Stone?”
My response came out in a whisper, “No, I’m not in pain.”
I looked back to Daemon. “Why am I in a hospital?”
Concern wrinkled Daemon’s brows and his eyes flicked to the floor before returning to my face. It seemed like an eternity before he finally answered. His voice was softer than I’d heard it before and I became worried.
“Paige, you’ve been hurt. Do you remember what happened at your apartment? Do you remember that I found you and brought you here?”
There was still a heavy haze that wrapped around my head, but Daemon’s words brought back what had happened. Images of Annie’s and David’s broken bodies and my bedroom, covered in candles started surfacing in my head; Chris surfaced in my head. Tears escaped the narrow slits of my eyes as I remembered. Daemon grabbed my hands quickly and spoke so soothingly, it almost didn’t sound like his voice.
“It’s okay, Damsel, don’t cry. You’re safe.”
I shook my head attempting to tell him I wasn’t crying for myself. Those tears were for my roommates. I needed to know if David and Annie had survived, but I was frightened to ask and find out that they hadn’t. I would be fine. I would survive because I’d be damned to let Chris win, but David and Annie…would they? Daemon continued to speak soothing words, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying, my thoughts were back in that apartment, back with the batter
ed bodies of my friends.
“David? Annie? Are they…?” My voice was whisper soft. Vocalizing my fear of what might have happened to them was too much to say with any force or confidence. But I had to know.
“They are alive, Paige. They are here at the hospital, they’re safe.”
They’re alive. They made it through this. I wanted to go to them, to see them breathing, to feel their pulses strong in their bodies. But I was so tired, so sore. My head fell farther back into my pillow and I closed my eyes. Just keeping them open was exhausting and I resisted the sleep that was fast overtaking me. Forcing my eyes open again, I turned my head to Daemon.
His expression was full of so many different emotions and I tried to identify them as they flitted across his face. Pain, desperation, anger; such intense anger. He noticed I was looking at him and his expression changed again into a mixture of consolation and concern. Seeing him sitting there tense made me realize he was holding back something, but I was too tired to pry. Maybe if I could just get another couple of hours of sleep; maybe then I could ask him more.
My eyes began to close again when I felt him lean down to whisper in my ear. When his lips brushed my ear, a small gasp escaped my lips from his contact and I felt him pull away unsure of whether he had hurt me by his touch. My hands wanted to reach for him but I couldn’t will my muscles to respond. I was drugged. Whatever painkillers they had coursing through my system were effective. I knew that if I wanted, I could float off this bed, but I had to stay here, with Daemon.
He leaned into me again but refrained from brushing against me. His voice was so soft, so low, that I could barely hear him. My brain attempted to unjumble his words long enough to understand what he was saying to me.
“Paige, please, you have to tell me. Did Chris do this? The police need to know. I need to know. Before falling asleep again, please tell me who did this to you.” His voice was pleading. He knew the darkness was pulling me back away from him and his voice was the only thing keeping me from letting go completely. My mouth opened to respond, but no sound could come out. I nodded my head and then my mind was once again wrapped in nothingness.
~
“Does she know?”
My mom’s voice broke through the fog of my sleep. She spoke quietly and quickly and all I wanted was for her to hold me.
“No. She can’t know yet…”
She’s talking to someone, a man. I cracked open my swollen eyes and it felt like someone has sealed them shut with Velcro. It hurt to move, but I wanted the comfort of my mom. Their voices were hushed and barely recognizable. I moved my head to turn towards them and a groan escaped me from the pain of movement.
“Paige? Baby girl? Are you awake?”
A small hand slowly began smoothing down my hair. My eyes cracked open again and her concerned face stared back at me. The lights in the room haloed around her, illuminating her light hair. My lips attempted to turn into a smile, but my face was assaulted with pain from the effort. Momma didn’t speak again as I tried to wake up, but her hand continued to pat my hand to console me. My mother’s eyes welled with tears as she took in my appearance. My body was beaten and marred.
I lifted my hands to examine the markings I could feel on my wrists. Bandages blocked my view and I pulled at one to free it enough to reveal the skin below. Dark purple rings wrapped around my slender wrist and I could see where the bindings had ripped into the skin. I’m unaffected by their appearance, completely numb to the physical reminder of the attack. I remembered my refusal to let Chris win, to feel fear, to only feel anger. He may have controlled my body, but I controlled my mind. I won what I considered to be the biggest battle of all.
Momma gently recovered my wrist and turned my face back to her gaze. “Don’t worry, Baby Girl, your body will heal. You will heal. You’ve always been so strong.”
Her voice waivered as she spoke and I could tell she was struggling to believe her own words.
I remembered my dream and tears escaped my eyes. That was the day that Buddy’s mom died, the day I lost him. I never dreamed about that day; never. “Momma…I dreamed about Buddy….about the day his mom died. Oh, Momma why did I dream about that day?” My sobs came faster but I reigned them in. I would not cry.
“Oh, Baby Girl.” My mother took me into a hug to comfort me.
In my peripheral vision, I noticed movement within the shadowed area of the room behind my mother. Thinking it was Daddy, I looked over to the corner of the room where I had seen the movement. Momma turned to give me a better look and Daemon stepped out of the shadows. He looked terrible and in desperate need of a shower and sleep. His movements were slow and calculated as he moved to stand next to Momma. Her expression was troubled and he just stared at me. I wanted to know what he was thinking, why he appeared to be distant.
The room was quiet as I alternated looking between their faces. They seemed familiar with one another and I wondered how long they had been talking in my room. Momma’s face looked slightly troubled and she fidgeted her hands.
“Momma? Have you met Daemon? He’s my…” I stopped. What do I call Daemon? I know we had agreed to be with only each other, but any word other than ‘friend’ felt foreign. My voice would not cooperate as I attempted to explain our relationship. Eventually, I gave up and changed what I had intended to say.
“…This is Daemon.”
Daemon flinched when he realized what I’d done. It was a cheap maneuver on my part, but so much easier than defining what this was between us.
Momma’s eyes flitted to Daemon and back to me. “I know, Paige. We’ve met several times since I arrived here. Your daddy is downstairs getting some food, but he’ll be back up here shortly. How are you feeling, Baby Girl? Can I get you anything?”
At some point, moisture had ceased to exist in my mouth. The last thing I wanted to do was give my mom a chore, but I was in desperate need of water.
“I’m thirsty.”
Momma nodded her head once and then grabbed the pitcher beside my bed and walked out in search of water. Daemon remained standing silently beside me. I wouldn’t look him in the eye, still too embarrassed at my cowardice in defining our relationship. His stare was palpable. All I wanted was to look up into those crystal blue eyes, but my stubbornness and embarrassment kept my eyes trained to my hands.
“How are you feeling, Paige?” He spoke softly, but there was an underlying note of anger to his tone. It was obvious he was struggling to maintain his composure, to not reveal what it was he was thinking. I couldn’t keep my eyes from his any longer and I looked to him in question when I recognized his mixed emotions.
“I’m fine.”
His shoulders slumped forward and he huffed out an exasperated breath. His eyes glanced to the floor before he trained his gaze back to my face. “You’re fine…” A humorless laugh escaped him. “Your roommates and you were assaulted, you were almost…” He reconsidered his words. “You were hurt. And you tell me that you’re fine.”
Put that way, my response seemed a little ridiculous. But I could tell he was angry about something, that he was holding something back. I didn’t manage anger well and I avoided it as often as possible. I felt uncomfortable and I needed to change the subject.
“Where are David and Annie? Are they awake, can I see them?”
Defeatedly, Daemon sighed. “At some point you and I are going to talk, Paige.”
I nodded. There was nothing I could say to that.
“David and Annie are here. Annie is awake. She’s not well. Physically, she will recover, but mentally…” His face looked pained. “…Her family told me that she may need psychological care after she leaves the hospital. She hasn’t told anyone exactly what Chris did, but the physical evidence is enough for the doctors to make an educated guess.”
My heart broke. Chris was demented. Within the short amount of time he had me, he had managed to inflict a significant amount of pain. Although I fought against it, I knew that his twisted perversions were serious
enough to have terrified Annie. Tears welled in my eyes when I imagined what Chris would have done if he had more time with me. He had at least a couple of hours with her.
“And David?”
Daemon took my hand into his. His thumb absently brushed across my knuckles and he visibly struggled with what he had to say. “He had swelling on the brain. He hasn’t regained consciousness yet.”
The bottom dropped out from underneath me. Shock took over my body and mind and I froze. David wasn’t awake. He could still die.
My body shook with uncontrollable sobs and Daemon leaned down to take me in his arms. He didn’t speak, didn’t try to console me. He just held me while the pain rushed out of me. I cried for David and I cried for Annie. I cried for Buddy. But I didn’t cry for me. Tears weren’t needed for me. Chris hadn’t taken me; not my body and not my spirit.
Momma reentered the room. She gasped when she saw me crying and she hurried to the bedside. Daemon removed me from his arms and handed me over to my mother’s embrace. I looked up through my waterlogged eyes as he turned and walked out of my room. He never looked back as he passed through the doorway and my heart shattered a little bit more.
Chapter Seventeen
Three days had passed as I recovered in the hospital. I was restless and irritable with all the attention from the staff. Checking vitals is an important task, but does it have to be at three in the morning? Sleep eluded me due to the three hour check schedule. I didn’t understand the necessity of the nightly interruptions when I was already hooked to a machine that checked my heart rate and blood pressure automatically.
My parents left to go home yesterday. All my questions about who had been watching the Center were avoided. They wouldn’t discuss anything with me that they thought might upset me more than I already was. I attempted to reassure them that I was intact, that I hadn’t been broken. They politely lied and told me they believed me, but I knew there was no way that they could. Their life had been dedicated to women that had been hurt. They knew the symptoms and they knew what was needed to recover. But I wasn’t like them. I saw that heartache growing up. I saw the bruises and the cuts, the busted lips and the broken bones. I heard the regrets and the anger and the betrayal. My walls were built when I was young, and I was not going to let someone break me.
