“NO!” he roars and moving with superhuman speed he grabs me around the waist and slams me against the wall. I feel the weight of my body leave the floor and his fingers around my throat, choking me he’s crushing my larynx and I’m unable to make a sound while I struggle desperately to escape. I’m helpless and dangling inches off the floor, clawing at his arms leaving deep bloody gashes from his elbows to his wrists, over and over I claw.
Darkness begins to close in and strangely the smell of homemade bread invades my senses while numbness tingles in my fingers and toes. Without warning he abruptly releases me and staggers back, stumbling over a coffee table, while my frail body slides down the wall and crumples on the floor. I gasp for breath trying to resupply my body with the oxygen it’s been deprived of and I try to focus and make sense of what the fuck has just happened.
Stunned Evan is sprawled on the floor mere feet away from me scanning the room wild eyed and rapidly taking in the situation as if he had just arrived. I’m not waiting to see what comes next, no way, been there done that. As soon as I’m able I crawl a few feet before using the wall to drag myself up and back to the bedroom slamming and locking the door. Not far enough, not secure enough…the window, I can get out through the window! I throw open the heavy grey curtains only to have my heart plummet almost as far as the drop I would have to make if I attempted to escape this way. Fuck me!! I whirl around and do the only thing left to do, I silently scurry across the floor when I hear him coming down the hall. Go, go, go…run, run, run…hide, hide, hide!!
The bathroom is small but the door is sturdy and it locks, I’m in. Weapons, I need to find something to protect myself with, I’m in full on survival mode now. He’s almost here, I hear him rattling the bedroom door, not pounding or yelling just gently rattling off and on. Desperately searching the cabinets and under the sink for anything sharp I come up empty handed armed with only a can of some sort of aerosol cleaning spray.
Not enough to keep a man from attacking, not a man of Evan’s stature, I’m not going through another round of torture. I stare at myself in the huge mirror over the sink and see bruising starting on my neck, finger marks on either side of my throat, petechiae spreading under my eyes and cheeks. He could have killed me.
The realization spurs another round of super self-preservation and I grab a hair dryer and smash the mirror into a million pieces. I whip a towel off the bar next to the tub and wrap the largest piece up half way so I don’t cut myself but I’m able to wield it as an effective weapon. If he makes it through the bedroom door, and then the bathroom door I’ll be ready. Trying and failing miserably to avoid cutting my feet I step into the white tub smearing blood all over the bottom of it. I squat down and wait…and wait…nothing.
Silence, the only sound is my heavy breathing and thumping heart. After what feels like forever my breath begins to catch with every inhalation as quiet sobs begin to escape. I try so fucking hard to keep quiet, I don’t even know why. It’s not like he can’t find me, there was only one place for me to go, but why isn’t he trying? Why isn't he breaking down the doors? What the fuck just happened here?!
I’ve completely worn myself out, with not much reserve to begin with I can hardly keep my eyes open after the adrenalin rush leaves my body drained and exhausted. Being nearly choked to death didn’t help much either. I can’t be sure how long I sat bloody, bruised and exhausted in that tub but it had to be several hours when my head was nodding and my legs had long since gone numb crouched under me. I finally had to sit back on my ass, not the most defensive stance but better to have blood circulation when I needed to move.
The bathroom was dark, earlier the light from the bedroom was visible under the crack of the door. Another way I know I’ve been here a long time, the sun has set. The house is eerily quiet, the sound of my protesting stomach occasionally reminding me that it was way past dinnertime. Will he ever come looking for me? Is he still here? Why is he doing this to me?
I turn my head and rest my cheek on top of my knees that are drawn up and loosen my hold on the shard of mirror. Pain floods my hand and I realize I must have been gripping it so tight that it cut me, even through the towel. I remember Evan saying once that pain was not unfamiliar to him and I’m discovering it’s not for me either. It anchors me, forcing body, spirit and mind to stay connected and to work as a team.
I welcome it and squeeze the crude homemade weapon again, this time tighter, feeling the glass digging into my flesh I feel more alert, focused. I hear footsteps and movement in the house somewhere and my already screaming muscles stiffen. Heels? Yes, not a man’s steps but a woman in heels is approaching the bedroom. Then the soft click of a lock, oh God she has a key!
Whatever adrenaline that’s left in my fatigued body surges through my blood stream as I hear more steps bringing this woman closer to the only barrier separating me from him, them, whoever! Another soft click and the door is gently and slowly opened, the lights are switched on and when she takes a step in wow does she get an eye full. Crazed Mia crouching in the bathtub ready to kill.
The woman gasps and covers her mouth with one hand, steps back and presses her back to the wall and gestures with the other to stay back, yea no worries lady I’m not moving until you do!
Chapter 6
“The Heart Wants What it Wants”
Imagine Dragons
Everything begins happening in slow motion as I move to exit the bathtub. Shards of glass bite at my feet but I ignore the pain. My goal is clear in my mind but I feel like syrup slowly pouring from a bottle and the sound of this woman's voice is warped, it’s difficult to grasp the meaning of her words. I squint as if my eyesight is somehow going to help me hear her better and of course it doesn’t. Something about her is familiar, like I know her but this is the wrong environment to be seeing her in. I don’t know anyone other than Evan here in Italy so I must be losing it now, finally, about time I cracked.
Maybe now I can go to a nice quiet padded cell in a psych ward where I’m safe from kidnappers, kidnapping ex-boyfriends and knife wielding intruders. No scratch that, psych ward equals psych patients and I’d rather take my chances out here thank you very much. I take a painful step toward the door where the woman is frozen up against the wall just inside. I need to get past her and out of this house, if I can escape I can run like hell until I find someone that will help me call my parents and get the fuck out of this country!
I’ll stab her if I need to, I don’t give two shits. I’ve been sitting for hours locked like an animal in this bathroom. I’m. Getting. Out! The warped voice of the familiar looking woman calls my name and it sounds stretched out like rubber glue. “Miiiaaa?” I shake my head trying to rid myself of this sludge that’s slowing my perception. “Miiaa, it’s meee…Gabrriellllaaa.” Gabri…what the? Did I really hear her right?
I take another step toward her, and she pushes herself off the wall and takes some sort of martial arts stance in front of me. “Doonn’t do it Mia.” Things begin to return to real time and her voice is clearing, yes this is Gabriella I recognize her now, long black silky hair pulled into a ponytail, tall leggy and impeccably dressed with those boots, funny how at a time like this I remember her boots. She wore them to the hospital after Evan’s accident while she held vigil at his bedside.
I stop my advance and stare in disbelief. “Gabriella?” I croak. I haven’t tried to speak since Evan choked me and now I realize it hurts when I do. “Yes Mia, I’ve come to help you, can you please put the glass and hairspray down? I had forgotten I was holding the can in my hand, I turn my head to look at it and while I’m distracted Gabriella swoops in, snatching the glass shard and knocking the spray from my other hand, how the hell did she manage that? Shocked, frozen, defenseless and alone I wait for what comes next.
Is she on his side? Is she going to attack me now too? I don’t get a chance to answer any of my own questions before Gabriella is talking to me, she tosses the glass in the sink beside us and picks up the spray setting i
t on the counter. “Please Mia, you’re in shock and injured, can we look at some of your cuts, maybe bandage them up? And your neck is quite bruised, we need to have a doctor look at you.” She pleads, offering me her outstretched hand, I surprise myself and take it in mine.
I don’t know why or what I was thinking, actually I don’t think I was thinking about anything logical at all. My only real thoughts were about her boots, those soft 4 inch high heeled brown fucking boots! I’m going to keep focusing on the boots, that’s it, just the boots. Gabriella takes advantage of my lapse in judgment and leads me from the room by my elbow cautioning me all the while where not to step so I can avoid any more glass in my feet. “Gabriella, why, I mean how come?” “Mia don’t talk, you sound horrible, and there may be some damage to your throat please just shush.”
She raised one finger to her lips while shushing me and leading me slowly and gently to the bedroom where I instinctively scan the room for any signs of Evan. “He’s not here honey, don’t worry, he’s at our parents’ house were I’ve been staying, he can’t hurt you now.” Scooting up onto the edge of the bed I take quick inventory of my injuries, a gash on my right palm throbs and bleeds from holding the glass shard so tightly. I’ve already seen the bruised hand prints on my neck and finally I look at my feet, they’re covered in blood and probably full of tiny pieces of glass.
I’m a hot mess, in so many more ways than one. Gabriella stands before me with one hand on my shoulder steadying me before she leaves the room and returns with a first aid kit and a broom and dustpan. She grabbed a towel and dropped it onto the floor under my feet, sitting cross-legged on the floor before me she opens the kit and begins working on picking each tiny particle of glass from my skin. I just stare down at her in utter disbelief.
I have so many questions first and foremost why was she in Italy? How did she know I was here? And wait a minute…did she say Evan was at their parents’ house? That can’t be right, I must not have heard her correctly but I’m taking her advice and resting my voice because speaking is truly uncomfortable. The glass removal takes a long time and some of the deeper pieces smart coming out but I never flinch or pull away. She looks up at me occasionally to see how I’m doing and I’m a little unnerved looking back into Evans twin sisters face.
They are remarkably similar but where he is chiseled she is soft, where he is stern she is yielding. A knock on the front door of the cottage has me scooting away from Gabriella making a mess of the beautiful white duvet, a trail of blood follows me and I remember not only are my feet bleeding but I’ve been on my period for 2 days now. I’m sure I need to tend to that, I’ve been awake since 10 a.m. most of that time spent hiding in the bathroom. “It’s all right Mia, I called a physician, I know him personally and he does house calls. You need to be examined by a professional.”
I shake my head no vigorously and make my way around to the opposite side of the bed, slide down onto my screaming feet and begin to hobble toward the bathroom again. “No you don’t Mia, get off of those feet, I’m not done yet!” she says sternly but never raising her voice. I stop and plead with my eyes, then I decide we need another way to communicate. I make an imaginary pen motion with one hand and lay my other out flat as if writing hoping she has pen and paper so we can “talk”. “You want to write something down?” she asks and I give her a quick nod yes. “Ok just a sec, I’ll get some paper and tell the doctor to wait in the living room is that ok?” Another quick nod yes and she’s gone.
I hear her letting someone in the front door, they speak a few words back and forth in fluent Italian before she’s clicking her heels back down the hall and into the bedroom. Handing me the pen and paper she tries to get me to move back to the bed but I’m not budging until I write what I have to say. Where is he? Did you say he’s at your parents’ house? I thought that place was sold a long time ago? I don’t want to see a strange doctor and I’m on my period I need to use the bathroom. I hand her the paper and she reads, frowning and then looking up at me she says “Let me sweep the glass up so you can go back in there, ok? I nod once again and she goes to work removing all of the glass from the floor dumping it into a waste paper basket and disappearing to who knows where in the house to dispose of the larger pieces.
When she’s finished she leads me back and rinses the tub, grabs a box of tampons and towels from under the sink and turns to me. “Can you take a bath alone or do you need some help?” I shake my head no, she looks at me hard for a few seconds, narrowing her eyes as if she’s sizing up the situation, weighing her options. She must have come to some conclusion because she finally left me alone.
No mirror to look into, I have no idea if my neck looks worse or not so I decide to run bath water and clean up. Quickly undressing and stepping back into the tub hissing and wincing when my feet hit the water. My throat feels thick and swollen, maybe I should let that doctor look at me. I’m having some serious trust issues right now and Gabriella didn’t answer any of the questions I wrote down. I’ll have to ask again.
I bathe, leaving my hair, its fine no need to wear myself out washing it, drain the tub, tip toe to the toilet seat and sit to dry myself off. Gabriella knocks on the door and without waiting opens it a crack. “You need some clean clothes?” I nod yes and she returns with the matching silk pajama set I’ve been wearing to bed here. I take them and change, she motions for me to stay seated and brings the first aid kit to finish wrapping up my feet. She’s pretty good at this, they feel better when they’re all covered, nothing too deep thankfully. “Will you see Dr. Amato now Mia? Please, I know you’re traumatized and you’ve been through enough but surly as a nurse you know it’s important to be checked out now to rule out any permanent damage?”
I close my eyes and sigh. When I open them I make my pen and paper gesture again, she scurries off and brings them back. I tap the pen on the page where I wrote questions earlier and she looks away so I tap harder, more insistent to have my questions answered. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know if you will please let Dr. Amato look at your neck.” Oh man…seriously? Manipulation courses through the Lawson blood, amazing how similarly they make it sound like compromise. Ok, I write and she helps me into bed, time to meet Dr. Amato.
Chapter 7
“Everybody Hurts”
R.E.M.
A surprisingly handsome, middle aged Italian man with salt and pepper hair enters the room with Gabriella. They exchange a few words in Italian but the only thing I’m able to understand is my own name and Evans, why were they talking about him? Is she telling him what happened? Yes that must be it, he needs to know what he is examining me for after all. “Mia I’m Dr. Amato, is it ok if I come closer to you?” he speaks perfect English, thank God.
Appreciative of his caution I nod and he advances holding a small bag like physicians in old movies carry for house calls. Pausing, he looks down at me on the bed lifting his eyebrows and tucking his chin as if to ask if he can proceed and I nod yes. “Does your throat hurt? Is it difficult to speak?” he asked and once again I nod yes. “You’re an ICU nurse so you must know that the first 36 hours following a strangling injury are the most dangerous. You need a CT scan to make sure we aren’t dealing with something more serious than the external bruising and swelling.” I pick up the pen and paper from my lap and write, I understand, no CT.
He looks back at me with a scowl. “Why?” “What’s she saying?” Gabriella interrupts. “She doesn’t want the CT.” “Mia why not? You know this could be very serious, you should see yourself. I’m very worried about you.” I don’t want a CT scan and I have very good reasons, starting with I don’t want to go to a hospital in a foreign country. I don’t want to be vulnerable to whoever may still be after Evan. And really I’m not having a very good track record with kidnapping so I’d like to stay right here in bed. I know the risks and for now I’m willing to take them. As insane as it sounds, after all that’s happened I’m not worried about me, I’m worried about Evan.
Yes, the
lunatic who drugged and kidnapped me, flew me out of the country and today nearly choked me to death…I was worried about him. I saw, or more like I felt the change in him before he attacked me, the complete confusion when he fell into the coffee table, he clearly wasn’t in his right mind. That tumor must be growing, shifting, cutting off blood supply…killing him. As scared as I was during the attack I always knew it wasn’t my Evan I was scared of, it was the other part of him, the dark, damaged and maybe even evil side of him.
I’m snapped back from my thoughts by Dr. Amato and Gabriella arguing quietly in Italian. I write Speak English or go away and tap my pen on the pad of paper to get their attention. The good Dr. looks over my shoulder at my message and nods in agreement. “She wants us to speak in English.” he says to Gabriella. “Ok, Mia you really need the CT, please.” she pleads placing her hand over mine and squeezing it tight. I remove it and write. Is he ok? I hold up the paper and she inhales a stunned breath.
“You want to know if he’s ok?” she says and I nod in the affirmative. “Uh…well...no actually he’s not. He’s locked in his old bedroom, from the outside, just like when we were little. He’s a mess, he keeps repeating “I don’t know what happened” and “She’s scared of me” “I’ve ruined it.” My heart clenches in my chest, constricted by his turmoil, it actually hurts.
I thought I’d experienced a broken heart when I left Evan, but this…this was different, intense, physical and emotional pain like nothing I’ve ever felt before, or want to feel again. Progressively building inside of me, threatening to explode and destroy like a Molotov cocktail. My heart has been through a lot, but feeling the pain of someone you love so deeply, so completely, it’s staggering. Balancing all of this fear and trauma with the love and devotion I have for him is making me weak.
Dark Thief (The Two Sides of Me Book 2) Page 4
