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Love Me Always: A Romance Anthology

Page 60

by Peyton Banks


  “Miss Castillo, I’m Officer Derrick Brandon. We’ve just taken Mr. Smythe into custody and an ambulance is on its way.”

  Her breathing is shallow and wheezy, and she doesn’t respond. I don’t move her. I’m not sure as to the extent of her injuries, and I don’t want to risk harming her even more. While I’m sitting there, her breathing weakens and I start to worry. It’s been several minutes since I called, and the hospital is a little over two miles away. The ambulance crew should be arriving any moment now.

  “Stay with me, girl,” I mumble under my breath, but when hers stops, I don’t pause to think about my actions.

  As safely and efficiently as I can, I roll her onto her back, tilt her head back, and kneel down beside her. I can hear the sirens of the approaching ambulance, but she doesn’t have any time left. I immediately begin chest compressions, and just as I finish giving her a couple of rescue breaths, two paramedics enter the room and rush toward us to take over from me as a ragged gasp bursts from her chest.

  “Stand aside, Officer. You need to let us take her now,” the young man instructs.

  I move away from her, so he can fit the oxygen mask over her mouth and nose, and check her vital signs. They carefully lift her onto the stretcher and strap her down before wheeling her from the apartment with me following after them.

  “I’d like to ride with her to the hospital,” I tell the young medic, and he nods. I climb in the back of the ambulance and sit on one of the seats fitted along one side.

  “I need to take a few details. Is there anything you can tell me?” he questions after he shuts the door and we begin to move.

  I run through everything I’m able to tell him about the victim, which isn’t much beyond her name, approximate age, and the probable cause of her injuries.

  “There’s no way to know the full extent of the damage until the doctors assess her, but she’s safe and we’ll do what we can,” he reassures me, and I nod, my eyes not leaving her.

  2

  Derrick

  It’s been nearly a week since Aura Castillo was admitted to hospital after being attacked and severely beaten by her boyfriend, David Smythe, who is being detained for suspected rape, and aggravated assault and battery. Given the extent and severity of Miss Castillo’s injuries, the charges will stick; I’ll make sure of it. If I can get him for attempted murder rather than assault, then I will. The haunting sight of her broken and bloodied body has yet to leave my nightmares.

  Yesterday we received the hospital report along with the rape kit to send to the lab for processing. Thankfully she woke up this morning and gave her consent to press charges. I nearly tore the medical report in two when I saw the detailed list from her doctor. Aura has bruising from the application of CPR, but the list extends beyond that to include several broken fingers, a sprained wrist, concussion, cracked ribs, severe bruising around her eyes, internal bleeding, and scattered across her body are healing minor burns as well as fresh cuts and grazes. The notes also state there are signs of sexual assault which were confirmed by Miss Castillo when she awoke.

  Aura Castillo is lucky to be alive after what that bastard did to her. I recall the moment she stopped breathing, and it reminds me how close she came to death at her boyfriend’s hands. If it were up to me, I’d give him a taste of what he did to her. However, anger will get me nowhere, and a lack of professionalism on my part might make it more likely he’ll walk free and could go on to attack and harm someone else.

  As I log all the new details into my report, anger continues to brew deep within me, but more prominent still is my relief that Miss Castillo will recover and wants to press charges. I’ve seen too many men and women in front of me, beaten and broken, begging me not to investigate or take it any further than my preliminary report.

  I understand their reasons only too well, but it pains me to see them unable to escape the shadows of abuse. Too often these same victims end up in the morgue and the case files change from domestic violence to murder. It needs to stop happening, and I’m doing everything in my power to be that beacon of light for those in the darkness. If I can save Aura, I know I’ll have made the kind of difference I’d hoped to achieve when I first took this job.

  I may not be the one responsible for putting her in here, but I still feel a sense of responsibility for Aura I can’t seem to shake. I’ve been back to see her every day so far, and I’m not entirely sure it’s because of the investigation or whether there’s something more drawing me to her. I’ve not approached her yet, only stood or sat outside her room on the ward. Her doctor informed her of my presence so she wouldn’t feel alarmed, but now she’s awake, I can’t put off introducing myself any longer.

  Her eyes meet mine through the window, and the gorgeous, soulful brown depths hold so much pain in them, it momentarily robs me of breath. I knock on her door and wait for an invitation to enter.

  “Come in.” Her voice is soft and quiet, and if I hadn’t been listening intently for her response, I might not have heard her speak at all.

  Grasping the door handle, I twist it firmly and push the door open, bringing me face to face with Aura for the first time since I saved her life almost a week ago. The swelling on her face has reduced; however, the bruising is still visible on her honey-colored skin.

  In the years I’ve been working closely on cases such as hers, I’ve never felt the distinction between my professional and personal life blur as much as it seems to be with Aura. I care too much, and I know this means I should probably back away and let Nicholas take the lead on this one, and I will, but I’m not going to be able to completely dissociate from it…or her.

  “Miss Castillo, it’s good to see you awake. I’m Officer Derrick Brandon, one of the officers who has been assigned to your case. The doctors tell me you’re healing well, and I can ask you a few questions about what happened the night we arrested your partner Mr. Smythe and brought you to the hospital.”

  “The doctor said you saved my life, is that true?” Aura asks, her voice shaking slightly.

  I nod. “My partner Officer Nicholas found you unconscious, but I was the one who performed CPR on you while he took Mr. Smythe into custody. Is there anything you can tell me about that night, Miss Castillo?”

  Aura bites her lip, and her eyes get a faraway look in them. “I was late home from my shift at the nursery. David doesn’t like it when I’m late. If I’m being honest, he doesn’t like much of what I do at all. I’d gotten stuck in traffic on my way home. I don’t like to use my phone when I’m driving, so I couldn’t let him know where I was. He was so angry when I got home, he wouldn’t even let me explain. I can’t remember much of what happened next, he dragged me to our bedroom by my hair and…”

  She pauses and shakes her head before closing her eyes. I give her a moment, silently watching as two tears mark a slow, wet trail down her bruised cheeks. As though of their own accord, my feet take me across the room toward her bed, and I lightly place my hand on top of hers and squeeze gently. Aura gasps, her eyes flying open, and she stares at me for a moment then looks at where our hands are touching.

  Slowly, she slides hers out from underneath mine to grip the white woven hospital blanket covering her lower body and continues, “I told the nurse what he did, and she told me they’d already surmised as much during their examination when I was admitted. I don’t want to relive what happened, but I don’t want him to get away with it either. I’ve been living with him for three years, and even though I’m finally out of that place, the hell still isn’t over.”

  3

  Aura

  I’ve no words to describe the agony David put me through to land me here, but I can still feel every slap, punch, and cruel touch as he tortured and wrecked my body to satisfy his own worthless anger. Every time I move or even breathe, I’m thrown back in time to the bedroom we once loved in before he twisted what we shared with his anger and alcohol.

  To everyone on the outside, we were a perfect picture of happiness, but benea
th this guise and my clothes were the marks of his anger and cruelty. On the inside, I was screaming to be set free. I’ve gotten good at shielding the world from my inner torment, smothering the bruises with make-up or clothing, and masquerading black eyes as being the result of sleepless nights.

  Eventually, I became less than human to David. I was his pet to be played with even when I supported us after he lost his job. I became his punching bag to take out his frustrations on when he’d had a bad day. No matter how much I loved him, no matter how hard I tried to please him, nothing I did was ever good enough. The bruises and burns healed, the fractures mended, and my body recovered, but the deep mental scars he cut into me still bleed.

  I lift my head to face Officer Brandon, and I can see his soul carries the same shadows I’m wearing on my skin. I wonder what happened to him? Did he suffer the same beatings? Did he experience the same horrific loss of freedom, ripped away by someone who supposedly loved him? I want to ask, but my own nightmare is still too fresh in my memory, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to find the words.

  “He’d call me names. He’d dig his claws into my heritage and disrespect everything I ever cared about, making a mockery of me for being who I am,” I whisper, and his eyes flash with understanding.

  Officer Brandon doesn’t ask me any more questions, somehow sensing I’m not ready to discuss anything else right now. But he also understands I don’t want to be alone, and instead of leaving, he takes a seat, pulls out a PDA and starts writing, no doubt recording everything I’ve just said to him.

  He’s got a calming presence, and for the first time since I’ve woken up, I feel safe. David has been locked up. He can’t get to me, and though I’ve just relived some of the memories that have been torturing me for so long, finally there seems to be a light peeking through the darkness that’s been shrouding me.

  It hurts to breathe deeply, but the doctors have told me I need to so my lungs stay clear while my cracked ribs heal from the beating. I struggle to move my left arm, and with my wrist in the cast and my fingers in splints, I fumble around with my thumb to locate the button to adjust the bed, so I can sit upright. I could’ve asked him to do it for me, but for once I want to be in control of my fate. Even such a simple task exhausts me. I can already feel drowsiness taking over me, either as a result of the exertion or in response to the morphine they’ve given me.

  “I’ll come back tomorrow and see you.” Officer Brandon sounds far away, and it’s like listening to him through a static fog. I think I manage to nod my head at him before I feel the drugs sweep me into a medicine-induced darkness.

  When I wake up, the ward is dark, and the only light comes from the nurse’s station just down the hallway from my room. I can see the faint light and heavy shadows being thrown along the corridor. I’m not sure whether I was woken by another one of the nightmares I’m so used to experiencing or the throbbing in my body. I think the only parts of me David didn’t touch were my legs, but even they bear healing marks of the wounds and burns he inflicted previously.

  I tried to leave him once...I didn’t try it again. I couldn’t walk properly for two days, and the bruises covering almost every inch of my body meant I couldn’t leave the house to go to work. We’d only been together six months, but he knew where my family lived, and I’m sure he’d have done everything he could to track me down. When I threatened to call the police, he retaliated by burning me in my sleep with his cigarette, and when I tried to stop him he threatened to hurt my family if I told anyone what was happening. The next morning he apologized and promised not to do it again, but I knew it was a lie. That was the moment I realized how trapped I’d become. No more. I’m finally going to be free of him.

  My time in hospital passes in a blur of medication and examinations. A few days after my admission and another round of tests, my doctor walks into my room. Her expression causes me to tense, and I wince at the movement but stare intently at her. I can’t predict what she’s about to tell me, so I brace myself as best I can for her diagnoses.

  “Hello, Aura. I’ve got some news for you. Your prognosis is good. The internal injuries seem to be healing very well, and the various bone injuries you sustained are also making good progress. I’m pleased to say that in the next few days we should be able to discharge you…”

  The way she pauses at the end has my senses on alert, and my heart thumps inside the cracked cage holding it captive as I wait for the next blow I’m about to receive.

  “An internal examination showed extensive vaginal trauma and some scarring on your cervix. I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but the results of your blood-work and the scan also indicated you have polycystic ovarian syndrome. Should you decide to have children, it may lower your chances of conceiving naturally, although it won’t be impossible.”

  My heart stalls, and I’m sure my distress must be written on my face because she smiles sympathetically at me before apologizing again and leaving me alone to process the latest emotional blow. Sometimes I wonder how life could ever get better when all it seems to do is get worse with each day that passes. My body may heal over time, but I’ve doubts in my ability to recover from the emotional trauma I’ve been through.

  4

  Derrick

  That bastard made bail. Nicholas sounded furious when he phoned to let me know before I’d left my house this morning. I told him I wouldn’t be in until later. I need to warn Aura first, and I plan to help her file for a Temporary Restraining Order. It may not help, but at the very least it should give her a sense of protection. I’m half tempted to offer her a place to stay with me until the trial, but I’m sure her family will be more than willing to look after her if she chooses to go back home instead of continuing to stay with her friend.

  Using the address she gave me when she was discharged from the hospital, I drive to her friend’s house and park up out front. I get out of the car and walk purposefully up the driveway to knock on the door, mentally fighting to stay calm and not increase her alarm. The news I’m going to give her is bound to frighten her enough as it is. I’m given an extra few moments to compose myself when Aura’s friend opens the door instead of her.

  “Is Miss Castillo in? I’d like to see her, please.” I ask, flashing my badge when the friend eyes me suspiciously.

  Noticeably relaxing at the sight of my badge, she steps aside and lets me in, “Sure, Aura’s just in the kitchen. Straight down the hall, and the first door on the left. I’ll leave you to find your way, I’ve got to get to work.”

  Her friend gestures where I’m to go and smiles when I thank her and move in the direction indicated. Then, grabbing her coat and purse, she leaves through the still open front door. After she closes it behind her, I move along the hallway to the kitchen to find Aura. She’s sitting at the table with a glass of water in her uninjured hand while the other, still encased in a cast, rests in her lap.

  Hearing me walk through the door, she looks up at me, and a ghost of a smile crosses her face before she takes a mouthful of her drink and sets the glass down on a coaster.

  “Hey, Officer Brandon, have you got an update on my case?”

  I flinch internally at her question, “I do, and you can call me Derrick if you want. I need to talk to you about Mr. Smythe. I’ve got some bad news.”

  Her flinch is perceptible, violently shaking her frame and making the water remaining in the glass ripple when the abrupt movement shakes the table.

  “What’s happened? Isn’t it going to trial?” she asks.

  “It’s still going to trial,” I reassure her, and take a deep, steadying breath before laying the bad news on her. “However, he made bail this morning.”

  Aura’s face pales, and she looks as though she may be sick. “He made bail?” she whispers.

  “I’m sorry, we weren’t expecting anyone to post his bail, but someone did. If you want to, I’ll help you file for a Temporary Restraining Order against him.” I offer, taking a seat next to her.

  “It
won’t make a difference. He’ll still come for me. It was probably his mother who posted bail. Even though they don’t get along, she’s the type who’d still get her son out of jail. He once threatened to hurt my family if I ever told the police about what he did to me. Can you protect them?”

  I wrestle with myself to contain my fury at the horrific control tactic he used to keep her in line, and I nod, “I’ll see what we can do, but it may be best if your family leaves the city for the time being so he can’t use them as leverage against you. Unfortunately, due to the trial, we need you to remain local. I can offer a modicum of protection for you, though. It wouldn’t be anything official, but you’re welcome to stay with me for the time being if you don’t want to remain here.” Aura looks shocked at my proposal, and truthfully, I am too. I never intended to offer it to her even though I’d considered it as an option. “I’ll give you my number in the meantime, and it’s still worth getting a Temporary Restraining Order. If he violates it, then it’ll be another mark against him when we go to court.”

  “Okay, but I want to stay here for now. I don’t think he knows where Hena lives so I should be safe with her.”

  A little while later we’re leaving the courthouse with the restraining order, and even though Aura said it wouldn’t make a difference to him, she still seems lighter like it’s offered her a vague sense of protection. If David Smythe violates the order, I intend to use that as evidence alongside every other piece we’ve gathered. Using everything I have at my disposal that shows what kind of a piece of shit scumbag he is, I intend to make sure he gets put away.

 

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