by Leaona Luxx
“Hadlea?” I close my eyes so I don’t have to look at him. He’s relentless. “Hadlea. Is it true? Did that motherfucker rape you before Thayer arrived? Or was he about to rape you? Did you make a statement you knew would keep him locked away?”
Malone hammers me with questions. I can’t keep up; I’m not trying too. He rounds the room as he continues to fire zinger after zinger. He doesn’t mean to crush me under the scrutiny but accomplishes as much.
“Hadlea, did you or did you not make a false statement? I need to know, now.”
I can’t face him. There is no way I can look him in the eyes. Keeping my head down, I shut down. One thinks I fucked Cole and lied about it to get him arrested.
Malone’s like every other man I know. I am a whore. He’s right. I deserve what Cole does to me. I always have and always will.
I completely turn myself off. I can’t look at him. Talk to him. Nothing. Finally, he’s tired of yelling, and he leaves with a thunderous boom. The windows rattle from the slamming door.
Morning turns into day, day into evening, evening into night. With every chime of the clock to announce each hour, I sit here, crying.
Around two in the morning, I move to lock the doors. Malone’s never coming back, and the thought rips my heart out. He did the same thing to me every other man has done in my life. Proving once again, I don’t deserve love.
My world shatters around me, I let it take me under. Locked in my home for days, I only answer the phone for my children. Pretending I’m fine, never letting them think otherwise.
They ask about the article, Aksel says nothing. No, my name was never mentioned but those who knew what happened, know the sordid details. It was, in fact, me.
Thayer calls. She comes by the house several times, bringing Hardy with her often. I have Lath come get my car at some point so he can hide it.
Malone comes. Every day. At least twice a day, sometimes more. He talks through the door. Even with my car gone and the boys’ deniability, he comes.
He calls continuously. Every hour, on the hour. Every time leaving message after message. He keeps saying it’s all right.
We both know it isn’t, it never will be. My nervous stomach has taken over; I can’t keep a thing down. Especially when Malone keeps making the news with various projects having issues. He’s under investigation for site violations and accidents. It’s for the best I stay away. He doesn’t deserve the mess I’ve created.
Cole is to be sentenced next week, he will receive the maximum. It will never be enough for all the years of heartache. I won’t go. I can’t.
My weight is dropping fast because I can’t keep anything down. I attribute it to my nerves being what they are now, at least that’s what I assume. I have no idea if it’s nerves or the fact I can’t keep food down.
Finally, four weeks in, my body makes the call. Waking up in the ER is quite surprising.
“Hey,” I croak out the word as I look around, my boys each sitting in my room.
“Mom.” Their word practically in unison as they jump to my side.
“Hey, guys, I’m good. Just my nerves, I’m sure. What happened?”
As I look at each one carefully, Aksel starts, “Well, Em called you all day yesterday with no answer. When no one didn’t hear from you, we came to your house. I started to call One but Lath said absolutely not. We found you passed out on the bathroom floor.”
Feeling the tears build, I begin making apologies. They fill me in on the basics and inform me the doctor hasn’t been in today. My weight is down twenty-two pounds from my last trip here.
I assure them I’m good so they can go home and get some rest. I ask them again to not contact Malone or Thayer, to which they agree. Once I’m alone, I fall back asleep for a while. I dream that Malone is by my side. I’m elated so much so, that when ‘Nurse Nosy’ wakes me. I’m irritated.
“Good evening, miss. How are you feeling? You’ve had everyone abuzz. Aren’t you dating Malone Woods? I remember you both from the last time you were here.”
Oh yeah, she’s nosy. Shit, she’s a stalker. “No,” is my one and only response before Malone walks through the door.
Fuck me.
“Hey.” He nods at me, then the nurse as he saunters into the room.
Malone stands slightly off to the side as the nurse finishes her job but not without leering at him, like he is scum of the earth. What the fuck?
“So, Malone Woods in the flesh. Thought you weren’t dating?” She looks at me as if she is about to kick me.
Something is off. In unison, we answer, “We’re not.” Nurse Nosy looks from one to the other, accessing us.
“Looks as if there’s something; care to reconsider?”
Malone’s fucking pissed. Looking at the nurse, I let her know the shit storm is about to commence. “We’re friends. It’s not your business, now get the fuck out.”
Nurse Nosy turns red, begins to reply but stops. As if rethinking her position, she leaves. Once the door shuts, I turn my venom on Malone.
“Now. What the fuck are you doing here? Better yet, you can get the fuck out, too.”
Malone stands over me. “What is wrong with you? Why will you not answer me? Why didn’t the boys call me? You know it took my bitch of an ex-wife, Monty to tell me she saw them bring you in and assumed I knew. What the fuck, Hadlea? I fucked up, I know. But damn, don’t write me off. Please?” His last words are a whisper, a plea. They get him nowhere because I’m not hearing it.
“It’s never going to work. I want you to leave. We’ve done enough damage to each other.” Never meeting his eyes. I wonder if they have a storm brewing deep within like when we first met? I push the thoughts aside. “Leave now, please. Or I’ll call security.”
As I speak, my voice waivers. Before he can respond, the door opens and the Doctor strolls in.
“Hello, Miss Lloyd. How are you this evening? This is?” Looking at Malone, which has him extending his hand to answer.
“I’m Hadlea’s boyfriend.”
With an exaggerated huff, I jump in. “No, he isn’t. And I’ve asked him to leave. Please, have him leave.” The doctor pauses but goes on to ask Malone to leave. He’s crushed.
“I’m sorry, Doc, that was ugly. Thank you for your help, now please go on.”
In the meantime, he opens my chart and begins going over it. He frowns as he reads report after report looking up once in a while to access me.
“How long have you been vomiting?”
I really can’t remember, so I come up with the only answer I have. “A while.”
He acknowledges my response to pen something in the chart. “Since your last visit?”
What the hell? “I’m not sure. I’ve had a few things going on. I attributed it to that— the weight loss to my nerves.”
“Miss Lloyd, I’m asking because your blood work isn’t good. You’re anemic, the weight loss alone sends signals in every direction. Now, if the man that just left is, in fact, your boyfriend, you might want to reconsider having him here. Unless, you plan to have this baby on your own. I see you’ve had three successful pregnancies, so there’s no reason to think with proper care and diet, this baby can’t be born healthy. Of course, you’re high risk with your age so I’ll give you a referral to a specialist. Now, I’d like to send you home with bedrest, some prescriptions, and the advice of eliminating stress.”
What. The. Fuck. Did. He. Just. Say?
“What?”
Pausing from his writing, he looks at me. “Excuse me?”
Sitting ramrod straight, I ask again. “What did you just say?”
He steps back and decides to repeat himself, “You’re pregnant.”
He’s a quack. Shaking my head almost violently, I answer, “No, I am not. I had a tubal ligation after my last son.”
A wry grin stretches across his features. “I don’t know what to say; sometimes after a few years, it no longer works. So, the referral? Go ahead with it?” I sit there. No words, just a
nod. “All right then, Miss Lloyd, I’ll get those together. Call someone to come get you.” Pausing at the door he adds, “Maybe the nice man who just left without a fight?”
Meeting his eyes, I let him know, “Maybe he should have.”
Making it home before seven that evening, the boys each beg me for one to stay but I refuse. I have too much to contemplate to have them acting like mother hens, so I send them home.
After showering, I curl up in my favorite chair while searching the OB/GYN the Emergency Room doctor referred me to. Maybe he was wrong and the tests will be different. As I sit researching the possibilities of a late in life pregnancy, my phone buzzes with a text.
Malone: Hey
Malone: Hadlea.
I know if I don’t respond, he’ll never stop.
Me: Hey.
Malone: You home?
Me: Yeah.
Malone: Can we talk?
Me: Nothing to say.
Malone: I have plenty to say.
Malone: I’m sorry.
How is it possible that I have more tears? Shouldn’t they be dried up? I’m dehydrated for the love of all that’s holy.
Me: Okay.
Malone: Fuck, Hadlea. Come on. Talk to me. Please.
I turn my phone off; Malone shows up within minutes. Knowing he would, I turned the lights off and pretended to be gone.
I am really. He took everything, demolished it. I know I keep things from him, but what does he expect? He’s treated me exactly how he said he wouldn’t. How I knew he would. Maybe I’ll tell him, maybe not, he’s crushed me.
Malone stands there seething, hurling insult after insult. Initially, I keep quite while waiting for him to stop. Once it’s obvious that he’ll never forgive me, I become numb. No emotion.
I learned long ago, the more you act as if you care, the more they hurt you. Malone told me about his ex-wife, how she’d cheated. Now I’d be deemed a cheater. I never wanted Cole. Above all, Malone should know I love him. He’s thinking of my past, how I’d been before, used.
I know without a doubt, I lost Malone because of who I am. I never deserved him and I never will.
Realization must hit Malone when it does me because he turns and leaves. Malone finally understands I don’t deserve him. I knew better than to allow myself to hope.
Why did I let him get so close? How could I be so stupid? Allowing the darkness to take me, I find it a means to an end. The same words on repeat, “how the hell did I get here?”
One
What have I done? I just walked out on her. Fuck. Hadlea just sat there, not answering me as I asked her question after question, infuriating me more. Waking up with her in my arms, started the day perfectly. A quick trip out to get the newspaper changed all of that. In that very moment, my world spun out of control.
On the front page was the plea agreement of Cole Perry in his case which included: rape, assault/battery, and stalking. An article on the fact the charges of arson were dropped ran along the side. All I could see was his plea on rape charges. Who was raped? The same woman he assaulted, battered, and stalked. The woman he had beaten and raped and attempted to rape again until he was abruptly stopped. My woman. My Hadlea.
Rage fills me. Hadlea kept this from me; she lied to me. Why would she cover this up for him? What the fuck? Does she love him? It’s obvious she doesn’t trust me or she would have told me.
The air around me feels so thick, I struggle to breathe. Hadlea’s never trusted me, never talked to me. She keeps her secrets close, never giving a clue. I knew for a long time she gave exactly what she wanted me to know and not a word more. But this is bullshit.
Cole fucking raped her before Thayer got there, and he was attempting to for a second time. She hasn’t told me. She refuses to tell me anything. When will she ever comprehend, how much I love her? I want to protect her, never allow another person to harm her. I knew whatever the ADA said to her when she went to see Cole, had to have been something big or the arson charges wouldn’t have been dropped. Rape, with the other charges, would put him away much longer than the arson, although restitution would’ve taken a lifetime.
Choosing to read the complete article before I woke her wasn’t my wisest decision. I was seething by the time I finished it. I was on my feet, careening toward the bedroom before I could get myself under control. Hell bent for leather and out of control, I foamed at the mouth thinking about his hands on her. Him possessing her, forcing her to touch him. Hitting her and calling her vulgar names. I’m going to kill him, not a doubt.
When I confronted her about it, she recoiled. She sat there, stone-faced as if I was Cole himself. It felt as if she was trying to protect him, talk to him, give all her secrets to him.
What the fuck? I want to love her, that’s all I want. I need to love her. Why the fuck would she keep this from me, to protect him? Is this why the ADA called her down there? Was it to force her to admit Cole raped her?
I couldn’t stand there another minute, so I walked out. This was the biggest fucking mistake of my life. Involving the only true love of my life.
Fuck.
As soon as I walked through my door, I called Thayer. Shortly after she stopped screaming at me, she was out her door. Hadlea wouldn’t answer her. After a while, Thayer gave up.
I went by at least twice a day, called continuously. When Hadlea thought I’d given up for the day, she would move around her home. Keeping it dark inside until the late hours of the night, I knew she was avoiding me. In the meantime, I kept an eye on her, sleeping in my truck every night. I needed to be close to her.
When Monty called me, all hell broke loose.
“One, it's Monty. How are you, darling? I hate I missed you today at the hospital but I did have the pleasure of speaking to your lady friend’s son, one of fifteen apparently. Tsk, tsk. Never would have figured you for ‘The old Lady in the Shoe’ type, nor did I think you a ‘Florence Nightingale’. Again, the offer stands. Call me.”
A few minutes later, I walked through the ER doors, turning my charm on to find her. Our reunion is short lived as Hadlea made me leave the ER. I wait as Aksel comes to take her home, I need to talk to her.
Moreover, I need to hold her. I need to apologize. I need to love her.
Later at home, she turns down my request to talk. She even hides when I walk to her door. I sleep in my truck, watching over her all night. She doesn’t sleep. Neither do I.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Lea
I can’t believe this. How did my life get to this point? How could I allow this to happen? I sit here in this parking lot, unable to move.
My hands grip the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles begin to turn white. I'm sure my lips are blue; I think I'm hyperventilating.
Shaking my head, I look up at the building sitting in front of me, and a wave of nausea hits me. I can't vomit here, not out front where everyone can see.
Taking a look around, I thank my lucky stars for the rain. There doesn’t seem to be any onlookers. I lay my head back and take slow, deep breaths trying to calm myself. It’s not working, so I slowly unbuckle my seat belt, grab my purse, and push the door open.
Traveling the length of the parking lot, the closer I get to the doors, the faster my feet move. My mind is still trying to decide if I'm going in or going to bolt, hence the up-tempo in my steps. Approaching the door, a hundred thousand thoughts flood my mind, maddening me.
Looking at the directory in the lobby, I see the floor I need. I'm actually late. Pausing, I linger in the corner, pretending to look at my phone. People surround me. If I don’t get my nerves under control and the crazed look out of my eyes, people are going to panic when I step into the elevator.
The ride up is anything but calming. It’s as if everyone around me knows my secret. Once again, my heart starts to race. I finally arrive at the door, now fifteen minutes late and all I can think is…How the hell did I get here? That’s when it hits me: it’s because of him.
Malone t
ook my life by storm, turned it upside down, then left. I let him in… my biggest mistake. I know who I am and what I bring to the table. Never having self-worth, I know Malone’s better than me.
The morning he woke me, seething with contempt, I knew we were done. He wouldn’t even look at me when he left. It finally hit him who I am.
I am a whore, and being here proves that point. I allowed Cole to come in and rip me to shreds. I tried to stop him, to tell him to leave, but he wasn’t having it. Cole’s hands roamed my body, touching me. With every touch, he ripped my skin from me. He defiled me. There were always vile ramifications when I denied him.
I answered the door, thinking it was Malone, but no one was there. Chills ran up my spine. I knew then he’d came through the back door.
I’d promised Malone I would start locking it. Knowing he was coming over, I left it ajar for the breeze. How fucking stupid. Malone warned me no good would come from leaving it open the first time I’d met him; still I didn’t listen. The hair on my body stood up at the sound of his voice.
“Lookie here, Haddie girl is all alone. How fucking lucky am I? How the hell is my favorite fucking cunt?”
I clenched my teeth together and prepared for what I knew would be one hell of a fight. No fucking way would I allow him to just take me as if I was his, never again.
“Get the fuck out of my house.” Turning as I spewed the words, he looked at me as if I was already dead.
“Who the fuck you think you’re talking to, bitch? I fucking own you.” With his words, he landed the first blow. A fist to my jaw. Cole never hit open-handed, he hit to bring blood.
Lying on the floor, I tried to remember how many times Cole hit me. More than any other man. Yes, there’d been others. My ex had beaten me once so badly that I couldn’t see from my left eye for two weeks.
My nose had been broken twice, three concussions, chipped teeth, bloodied lips, ruptured ear drums and cracked ribs. Multiple fractures and contusions. Mostly by Cole, but I was a punching bag and fucked for my brother’s drug debt.
No, I had no idea that was the deal from the beginning. My brother told me Cole liked me and wanted to ask me out. After I had refused his advances, he raped me. I was his from that point; even when he allowed others to do it, I had no idea they were paying him. If I resisted the ‘date’, Cole threatened to kill me, even showed me he would. At fifteen years old, I was used as a pawn. A concubine.
