by Ash Harlow
The beat of fear had hammered at her chest as she’d listened to the movement outside. Someone was in the yard. She’d ducked below a window at the first sound, then slowly raised herself to peer through to watch a gold-and-white dog crawl with caution from behind the overgrown shrubbery, semi-crouched, belly close to the ground. She was sniffing, hungry.
“Turns out the creature was a dog. A young dog that was as cold and scared and hungry as I was. She was desperately thin, a sparse fur coat stretched over a bony frame, and so frightened. I managed to encourage her in with some food…and named her Fala.”
In Fala she saw herself, forced to spend her life ducking from the hostile world.
“The first dog you rescued?”
Marlo looked up at him and nodded.
“Go on.”
“I’m ashamed to say that my career as a thief began, because we soon ran out of food and Fala was so hungry. But I had to be careful, too. I wasn’t sure whether the school was looking for me and if the police had been notified.”
“Anyone would steal in the same circumstances.”
Marlo shrugged. “The weather worsened, and it became cold, so I finally had to take the risk of making a fire. That was my downfall. It turns out the police were looking for me—not searching, but you know, watching out. Suddenly there’s this cop at my door. He’d seen the smoke from the fire and knew the place was usually empty, so he came in to investigate.”
“Oh…”
Marlo’s heart galloped. As she reached for her glass of water, her arm shook so violently she abandoned the glass and pulled her arm back to her side. She jumped when Adam reached around her shoulder, settling to absorb the warmth of his touch and his gentle words of comfort.
She had to trust him.
Her tongue was thick, and her mouth dry. “I need more water.”
He put a glass to her lips, and she lay a guiding hand on his, gulped the water and released him. Her entire body was trembling now. She studied her hands resting in her lap. Watching, detached, she pinched the back of one hand between the thumb and forefinger of the other, to make herself feel. “I can’t do this, Adam. I don’t have the words. I’m sorry, they’re not there.”
“They’re there, but they might need a crowbar to ease them out.” He took hold of her punishing hand and stilled it, keeping it safely cupped within his palm. “You don’t have to do that,” he whispered.
Not even the experts had taken her further than this stage. Every memory was locked down. Secure. If she didn’t say it out loud, maybe it hadn’t happened. That’s what she’d always told herself.
She dropped into silence. He had to reach her before she made herself too distant. “Marlo, listen. I know about horror and I’ve witnessed…hell, all kinds of nasty stuff. No matter what you tell me tonight, it won’t change the way I feel about you. I’d be so grateful if you were able to trust me enough to talk about this with me.”
“You’ll hate me.”
He pulled her against him and put his mouth close to her ear. “I will not hate you. That’s not an option.” He waited a bit to let his words sink in. “Here’s a question. Can you tell me the name of the policeman who found you?” And I’ll hunt him down and put him and Barrett against a wall and fucking fill them with bullets.
She stiffened against him.
God, so reactive. He held her tight. “Come on, a name. Nothing more.”
“Carl. Carl Hanson.”
He nodded as he committed the name to memory. “That’s really good. Would you like some more water?”
“No thanks.”
“Shall we talk about Carl Hanson?” Might as well give it a try. Her breathing accelerated and became audible. “Deep, slow breaths, Marlo.” She needed that tattooed on her wrist.
“There will be police files somewhere. You could look it up.”
“I can’t access that sort of information. I’m here as a guest. I want to hear it in your words, your story.” He held his breath. So freakin’ close.
“Carl started out kind. I begged him not to take me back to the school, and he assured me he wouldn’t do that. He talked to me about why I’d run away and all the stuff about my mother. I confided in him, told him everything about me. I actually liked him. When he left, he promised to be back the next day with some food for me. Fala didn’t like him. I should have listened to her.”
At the sound of her name, the old dog raised her head, thumping her tail on the floor.
“He turned up every couple of days, and we talked a lot. I even began to trust him. But pretty soon he started banging on about what a sacrifice he was making, how he’d get his ass whacked if he was found helping me. Finally, he started to work at me with how I owed him and that I was indebted to him, that I had to pony up. I didn’t even know what he meant. His demeanor had changed, and he was getting exasperated.”
Oh, shit, I know what’s coming. I knew all along. He drew a big suck of air, squeezed his eyes shut to hold the breath down, and anchored himself, determined not to react to this storm.
“He told me what he’d planned and gave me a day to think about it. If I didn’t agree, he’d take me in. He said this time I’d be sent to juvie, because on top of everything else, they had me for trespassing and theft.”
The anchor rope snapped and out rushed the air. “Bastard!”
She jerked from him. “Don’t be angry. You promised me you wouldn’t get angry!” The pitch of her voice escalated with her growing agitation.
He pulled her up against him. “I’m not angry, Marlo, I’m not.” I’m fucking enraged. Her agony was like his. He knew the choking breathlessness, the roaring in the ears. He knew how it felt to take those inadequate gasps, that no matter how much air you downed there was never enough to sustain life.
What does not kill me makes me stronger. He was back at the charred, smoldering remains of his house. The firefighters had found a body…
In his embrace, he could feel the little spasms as she gulped for air. He held her tight and rocked her, rocked both of them. “You’re safe here. Nothing can happen.” They both had to believe that.
She looked up at him, all shiny and broken. It was like gawking at a fresh car wreck under a streetlight on a rainy night. Her gold-flecked amber eyes were numbed by the memory of her horror and yet brightened by her tears. “I can’t keep going with this.”
With his thumb, he spread her tears across her cheek and softly exhaled. “Please, let me help you,” he whispered.
She tucked her head back into his shoulder and pushed, moving it from side to side.
“Take a minute.” He stroked her back, long sweeps down her spine and she calmed. Just a little.
“Tell me some more?” he asked. “That last bit and you’re free.” He rested his chin over the top of her head and clenched his teeth until his jaw ached, because he knew the worst was to come.
She spoke into his chest, her voice muffled, her hot breath warming him. “I tried to come up with a plan, but I was useless. I couldn’t think of anything to get out of the situation. I had to take care of Fala, and I knew that if we ran off we wouldn’t get far. Traveling with a dog…we’d be too visible. But in the end, I had to try something, so I made up my mind we would leave as soon as darkness came.
“Carl never waited until the next day. He came back at the end of his shift. When he’d finished, he laughed and told me what I already knew. I was exactly like my mother, putting out for the cops in order to survive.
“After he left, I went outside and threw up.”
Adam pulled back and tucked his hand under her chin, turning her tear-streaked face up to him. “Look at me?” he asked. He waited until finally she faced him, her eyes downcast. “You’re so brave, and beautiful, and you did nothing wrong. You didn’t steal anything. This guy, Hanson, he stole from you. He stole your innocence and trust. On top of that, he betrayed you in the worst possible way, when he had sworn to protect you, and others just like you.
“I want
you to understand this, Marlo—you never did anything wrong and you will never be like your mother.”
She withdrew from his grip and buried her head back into his chest. A large patch of his shirt was soaked with her tears. His emotions were in turmoil, but he had to shut them down and concentrate on helping her. “It’s not the end of the story, is it?”
Her head burrowed into his chest.
Fuck.
“He turned up every couple of days. I got used to it and, in an odd sort of way, was bereft on the days he didn’t show. He was never violent…never harmed me.”
Oh, he harmed her, all right.
“One time he arrived and said some of the others had found out about us and they’d threatened to tell his wife. The asshole was married.”
When she delivered these words, she looked up at him, her expression as stunned as she must have been when she’d first found out. As if that had been the moment Hanson had betrayed her.
“He had two daughters, not much younger than me. He said other cops might turn up and that I had to be nice to them.” She shivered lightly. “I lived in such fear of others showing up. I didn’t know when some stranger would appear, expecting…
“Then one day, when Carl was there, and we were—you know—Barrett walked in. He just walked in. He told Carl to hurry up, because he was waiting for his turn. I watched him throw off his shirt. He unbuckled his duty belt and dropped it on the floor. He came right up to me and laughed as he unzipped his pants. I panicked. I started screaming. Barrett slapped me and told me to shut up, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop screaming. And then I heard this gunshot, and I thought he was trying to kill me. And all the time I could hear screaming, and it was me, even though I thought I’d stopped.
“I can still hear it,” she whispered.
She shuddered against him. He pulled her close, trying to calm her. “Marlo, listen to me. It’s not happening now. Okay? You’re with me, you’re safe. Tell me if you understand that.”
She nodded against his chest.
“Keep crying until you’re done. Don’t try and control it, hon, let it out.” How on earth was he going to make this go away? He continued rubbing her back as if his hands could work all of the horror from her until gradually she came back to him.
“It was Mae who had fired the gun.”
Chapter Nineteen
Mae had come to her rescue.
Marlo continued. “The cottage was at the back of some unused land on the boundary of her property. She’d noticed the activity when checking fences and came to investigate. She fired the shot in the air, because she said nothing worked like a gunshot to get the attention of a cop.
“She took me and Fala with her, back to her house. That evening, the sergeant from the station came up, and I made a statement. We talked off the record. Mae had some clout there and over the next few weeks she worked out a deal. I stayed and lived with her. She took me and Fala in. No questions—she didn’t hesitate.”
“What happened to Hanson and Barrett?”
“Carl lost his job and I don’t know what happened to him, but Barrett got a transfer. He got off with a demotion and a year’s probation due to a plea bargain. At the time, I wanted it all to go away. Initially I thought it had, but the fear has stayed at my side like a second shadow. Always there, waiting for the right circumstances to block out my light and become visible again.
“The last time I saw Barrett was a few weeks later at the station. He was coming out of an office and I had been momentarily left in a corridor, alone. He pulled me aside, got right up in my face, and threatened that when all this was over, he’d hunt me down and have me. He promised to make certain that once he was finished, there would be a line of cops after him, ready for their turn.”
She gingerly pulled back and looked up at Adam, searching his face for the revulsion she was certain would be there. “I told myself they were only words from a man who’d had his ego punctured. It was a brave notion because to be honest, I was terrified. The words created this ugly image in my head and turned up in my nightmares. I couldn’t slip free of him.”
“I’m right here, okay? I don’t want you carrying all that shit around with you anymore. I know it’s not going to simply disappear. But we’re going to make it a small and manageable parcel.”
He didn’t understand. “It won’t go away. The memories aren’t going to swirl down a drain and vanish just because I’ve told you.”
“I would never suggest that. But do understand that telling me was the first step. From now on, any time you’re afraid or you want to talk about it, I’m here and I’ll listen, and I’ll help. If I can’t, we’ll find somebody who can.”
Except she knew that wasn’t true, because soon he’d leave. He’d return to New Zealand, and she’d be alone. The thought of that frightened her, because for once being alone would make her feel lonely. She rested back against him and started when her cheek touched the cold wet patch on his shirt. “I’m sorry, I’ve made your shirt wet.”
His arms snaked back around her. “That’s nothing,” he whispered. “Relax.”
Relax. Such a simple word for such a difficult thing to do, yet she could feel herself returning to a calmer state. She let her head move with the rise and fall of his chest, forced herself not to pull away as Adam circled his fingers on her back. As the minutes passed, it became more than nice.
She wanted more from him, something else he could do to help her heal, but she was afraid to ask. Afraid that she couldn’t endure the rejection if he didn’t agree because after all she’d told him tonight, she was no longer confident that he’d still be attracted to her.
She’d never been so exposed. Baring her shame—well, some of it anyway—with a counselor was one thing. Telling the person you’d let yourself start to believe might have a place in your life was definitely another.
“I’ve carried all that crap around with me for so many years. But what they did…it didn’t only mess with my head, it got into every fiber of my body until it crept through my veins and dug in like a parasite and stayed there.” His breathing hitched, no longer slow and deep.
“The horror gets life with every breath I take. That’s still there.”
He shook his head. “Marlo, I can’t even begin to imagine what it’s been like for you.”
She didn’t want his pity. Pity would make her weak. Damaged. “I want to feel normal.”
“Sure you do.”
“I’m asking you to help me feel normal.”
“I’ll do anything I can.”
His fingers continued to trace up and down her spine. She drew a full breath, held it and braced herself. “Adam…please, I want you to make love to me.”
His hand stopped. She waited. Oh, God, say something. Stop this knot of unworthiness from uncoiling in my stomach.
He eased her away from him, sitting her up on her own. Panic moved in with humiliation, and their cohabitation threatened to choke her as she watched him put his hands on top of his head, fingers laced, and elbows wide.
He leaned back, putting distance between them. Removed from her ugly scene. “This is so fraught with bad things, Marlo.” His eyes were searching and harsh.
“I knew I shouldn’t have told you. You’re repulsed by me, by what I’ve done. All you can see is a victim.”
“No, Marlo, no. Stop thinking like that. You’re so vulnerable right now. After all that you have been through tonight, you don’t want this. It’s the aftermath of adrenaline—it makes you do things, need things. I don’t want my name on your trunk of regret tomorrow morning.”
She sprang to her feet, needing to be mobile, pacing. At the end of the room she turned. “Don’t presume to know what I want and what I don’t want. Jesus, Adam, do you have any idea what it took for me to ask you that?”
He reached out a hand and spoke gently, “Come here, to me, please. Come and sit.”
She took a step back and leaned against the arm of a chair.
“Come o
n. Don’t do this. We are not going to have an argument after all that’s gone down tonight. Don’t pace. Come back to me.” He waited. “I need you to,” he added softly.
His arms were spread. His hands beckoned. Such a small but commanding gesture. “Here, to me. Come on, please?”
She crossed the room slowly and let herself settle in the retreat of his arms. She buried her head into his chest. “I simply wanted you to replace something ugly with something good.” Her voice was hoarse and muffled against him. “Carl and Barrett…I want them extinguished. I want what they make me feel to be wiped out. It takes so much energy to keep those feelings locked down, and now they’re free and they’re tearing about…shredding me. Please, make them go away.” Fresh tears burned her eyes as she drew away from him to look at his face, because she needed that to change. She needed the pity to be gone. “You can do that for me,” she whispered.
He kissed the top of her head. “With all my heart and soul, I would make love to you.”
“But?”
“But not tonight.”
“I don’t want to be alone.”
Oh, honey, I’d never leave you in this state.
“I’ll stay here with you. You need to sleep, and you need to feel safe.” She might think having finally told her story that this was over. She didn’t realize it had only just begun. You let those memories out, and it’s like breaching the levee. Other memories that had been dammed-up for years slip through, too, because thought censorship leaves when you sleep.
There was that give in her body, the extra weight of her that said she was letting go of some of the stress. He let his hand glide across her forehead. It would be wonderful to put her to sleep right now, then carry her to bed so that she had no more connection with her memories or with the night’s events, until morning. He continued to stroke as her breathing eased.
He stayed still and silent, hoping to keep her calm. When he shifted his arm, she mumbled and nestled right back into him. This was good, having her quiet and in his arms. It allowed him time to process what had gone on tonight and reclaim some control so that he could be strong for her in the morning.
