My hand goes to Carter’s cheek, pulling him to me. Kissing him long and ardently, I move with him as he lays us back. A single tear falls down my cheek and Carter wipes it away as he stares into my eyes.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do for a job yet if I can’t walk fully, but I know one thing for sure, I want to stay close to you.”
“This is why I fell in love with you because of the man you are. It’s why I’m falling in love with you all over again.”
With his hand over mine, the slow tenderness of his kiss fills me with an overpowering sensation, a feeling of complete and utter love.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
—
ALEX
Carter holds me in his arms, rubbing along my back like we did before falling asleep. In the warmth of his arms, I feel safe and wish I didn’t have to return home at all. Staring at the clock, I watch the minutes pass. Unable to sleep, he stays awake, caressing me.
“These nightmares you have. They’re from what happened to you?”
“Yes,” I admit uncomfortably.
“Kevin told me. What happened to you is horrible. It upsets me you were hurt like that.”
“It was terrifying and yes, horrible.” My fingers squeeze around his. “He hurt me more than just physically. He broke me.”
“Why you?” Carter’s grip tightens around me protectively.
“I lived alone and fit his preferences and pattern—shorter brown hair, mid to late twenties, one hundred and twenty to one hundred and forty pounds, no pets, no roommates.”
“How’d he find you?”
“I don’t know. I’ll never know. The investigator said he probably saw me somewhere like a coffee shop, at a grocery store, something like that.” A shiver runs over my spine and he goes back to stroking me.
“We don’t have to talk about this.”
“It’s okay. I’ve never talked to anyone about it other than a therapist.”
“You don’t have to share anything with me if it makes you uncomfortable.”
“Talking about it will always make me uncomfortable, but I don’t want him to have that hold over me. I shouldn’t have to feel ashamed.”
His kiss to my head is affectionately placed. “Never feel ashamed.”
Hugging him, I keep my head resting against his chest as I begin, “I was naïve. Didn’t think about how easily someone can attack you. I remember that day as if it was yesterday. The doorbell of my apartment rang, and I opened it wide to see a man standing there with a package. The uniform was the right color even had a name tag. He handed me the package, and I turned and bent down to set it on the floor. He’d walked farther into my apartment and closed the door partially. He smiled and handed me a clipboard. Looking down at it, I was confused. It was a blank sheet of paper. My attention returned to him, and the last thing I remember was dropping the clipboard as I attempted to fight him off and keep him from putting the cloth to my mouth.
“I woke up, handcuffed to my bed, ropes tied to my ankles, keeping my legs spread apart. At the bottom of the bed was the very package he delivered. It had all his tools he needed. The very package I accepted, held in my hands, was his box of torture.” Shivering, Carter squeezes me and continues his caressing, silently listening to all that I have to share.
“He had a knife and was running it across my stomach. Pushing the blade into my skin, he told me if I screamed for help, he’d cut me open, side to side. He blindfolded me so I couldn’t see what he was doing, but I still knew. I still heard and smelled everything. He put a condom on, then lubricant. He tore off my underwear, gripped my legs, and shoved into me. I cried out from the pain and shock of it. He slapped me so hard, it knocked the sound of my scream out of me. Then he shoved into me even harder.”
Tears moisten my eyes, and my chest constricts, but I continue struggling through the words.
“He… raped me more than once. He’d take a break, toy with me, touch me, then when he was ready, he’d rape me again, each time more violent than the last. The more I cried and begged for him to stop, the more it fueled him and his violence.
“What saved me was something so small. One single mistake he made. He’d parked in the wrong spot at my apartment building, an area where cars often got towed. A police officer stopped by with the tow truck. He ran the plates of the truck, and it put up a red flag. He’d been on their radar. He was their lead suspect in similar rape cases. The police and FBI came to my apartment. He pulled a gun, put it to my temple, and told me to stay quiet.
“As soon as he walked away from the bed, I screamed. I screamed so loud my throat was raw. I didn’t care if he shot me. I wasn’t going to go through any more of what he’d done to me. They burst through the door and I heard gunshots. I was terrified. When a man’s hands touched me, I cried. The officer told me it was okay. That it was over. They covered me with a blanket, took the blindfold, cuffs, and ropes off.”
My wrists tingle from the memory. I jerk my hand toward myself instinctively and Carter takes my hand and brings it to his lips and kisses it tenderly before holding it on his chest.
“I was taken to the hospital. They did a rape kit and treated my wounds. Gave me pain medicine. After the reports, I was free to go home.” I laugh, “Home. There was no home after that. It was a prison. A constant reminder of what had been done to me.”
The memories of my old apartment and bed flash through my mind. I grimace at the thought of them.
“Todd came over the next day and I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t bear to be touched. He wanted to console me, but I couldn’t stand the contact. I slid into a deep depression. Lost my job, but I didn’t care. I was broken, ashamed, disgusted. I wanted to die. I was so far gone, I took a bath and laid there staring at the bottle of pain pills. All I had to do was take them all and go to sleep, and it would be over, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t let him win. I’d fought to survive his torture, I had to fight to survive for myself.
“Shortly after that, Todd left me. He couldn’t take my constant state of misery. It broke me, but I didn’t blame him. I was a walking corpse. My first step forward was moving out of the apartment. I moved in with Jane and Kyle while I sought therapy and a new job. Once I was hired at Kevlar and Kline, I got a new apartment. Gradually, I rebuilt my life, learned to live as the scarred woman I am now.”
Pulling out of Carter’s arms, I sit up, a frown etched into my expression.
“Do you feel differently about me knowing what happened?”
Sitting up, he takes my face in his hands. “Yes, you’re even stronger and more beautiful than before. Your body isn’t tainted if that’s what you think. Your body is stunning, and when I look at you, I only see you, an amazing woman I care for deeply.”
My fingers wrap around his wrists and rub affectionately as he pulls me in for a kiss. As we lay back down, I turn, and Carter wraps an arm around me, tucking my back to his front. Gentle kisses are placed on my cheek and behind my ear. The pleasurable tingling sensation sweeps over my neck and shoulder.
“I love that.”
“Good to know your soft spot.”
Nuzzling closer to him, I pull the blanket up over us and link my fingers with his.
“Thank you for listening and not making me feel like something is wrong with me.”
“That took a lot of courage to share your story with me. I understand it was difficult, but I want you to know, you never have to feel ashamed or embarrassed with me.”
I love you, Carter. So much.
“Thank you.”
“I’m here for you, always,” he whispers.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
—
CARTER
Dr. Keller’s white coat shifts as he takes a seat in the black chair across from the one I’m occupying. Setting a folder on the sterile, silver counter in front of him, he opens it, then switches his attention to me.
“I’ll have the results of your CT myelography in twenty-four hours. Until then, let’s go
over what we know. You’ve gained sensation in your right hip and upper leg and you’ve had two memories come back to you.”
Rubbing my thumb over the top of my cane, I nod. “Correct, I had another memory come to me this morning. It was a memory of me training for a fight.”
“This is good news. Your body is healing. I had hopes after the interlaminar implant, the pressure would be taken off your spinal cord and nerves. When I discovered your loss of leg mobility, I hoped it was temporary. As for these two memories, this means your memory loss is likely not permanent.”
“I’ll get all my memories back?” My enthusiasm is difficult to suppress.
“I can’t guarantee it, but usually with retrograde amnesia, as patients heal from their injury, long-term memories tend to return. They return in bits and pieces and in random order. Because of the head trauma and swelling, your brain suffered a chemical imbalance. As brain chemistry normalizes and brain systems begin working normally again, the memories start to return. I don’t know how quickly this will happen or if you’ll remember the same things you did before the accident, but these two memories are a start.”
Dr. Keller smiles at my expression. No doubt I look happy with the news. I’m thrilled with the possibility that all my memories might come back to me. I feel lost, without a purpose, or a place I belong, and those memories can fill the deep void.
“How are the sessions going with Dr. May?”
My thoughts disperse, and I return my gaze to him. “Good. During the sessions, we work on memory exercises, and she’s helping me cope with my disability and memory loss.”
“That’s good to hear.” Head lowered, his pen moves along the paperwork in his file. “Are you feeling depressed at all or struggling to remember new things?”
“Sometimes names, where I left something. There are brief moments where I feel overwhelmed, lost, but when I’m around my girlfriend, I don’t.”
“And she was your first memory?” Intelligent brown eyes study me.
“Yes.”
“What was the memory of? Were you with her when this memory occurred?”
“The memory was of us being intimate. No, she wasn’t with me when I remembered it.”
Pen moving swiftly, he adds to my file. “Are you having any difficulty gaining an erection during arousal?”
I chuckle, and Dr. Keller smiles, clearly humored by my laugh. “I know it’s an invasive question, but it lets me know you don’t have any nerve damage correlating with sexual function.”
“I’m not having any trouble getting an erection.”
“And ejaculation is normal?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He scribbles some more, then places the pen in his coat pocket.
“I want you to continue your rehabilitation program—physical therapy twice a week and sessions with Dr. May once a week. In your file, Jeff reported you are working on walking on your own.” He points to the cane resting across my knee. “By the looks of it, you’re walking, but with assistance.”
“Yes, I practice walking every day. I force my mind to accept my leg is there and is able to receive my weight. I work on lightweight resistance to keep the muscles strong, that way my leg can hold my weight, but because of the numbness, it’s easy for me to lose my balance. I feel with practice, strengthening my muscles, and working on balance, I have the potential to walk without a cane.”
Thumbs touched together in his lap, his brows furrow, his expression hard pressed as he speaks, “We have to wait and see how you continue to heal. I wish I could say the partial paralysis will heal and muscle mobility and sensation will fully return, but I can’t guarantee it, unfortunately.”
“I understand.”
“On a good note, it appears your experience as a personal trainer is being retrieved from your memory which is surely assisting in your recovery.”
“I think you’re right. This question might be unusual, but I’m curious. If my mind is remembering my personal training experience, do you think a part of my memory remembers my girlfriend? I’m asking because I can’t remember anything we’ve done together or how we met, but she feels familiar to me and so does my brother, Kevin. When I’m with her, I feel… infatuated and I barely know her.”
Closing my file, he sits back in his chair. “Your brain is a complex system—consider it like a library full of storage files. Events go in one file, scents in another, colors in another. When you see your girlfriend, your brain is walking through the library in search of memories and things that are familiar, the storage files for events have been misplaced, but your mind finds the scents and color files. It retrieves those for you and says this woman is familiar, but I can’t provide you with why. As you spend more time with her, I believe she’ll trigger more of your memories.”
My thumb rubs over the head of the cane, the fine wood smooth beneath my skin. “There’s something that’s bothering me.”
“Yes?”
“I’m struggling with the fact I used to be a strong man capable of taking down another man fairly easily, yet now I can’t protect her.”
Dr. Keller’s eyes narrow in curiosity. “What do think she needs protecting from?”
My gaze absently passes over several objects before returning to his. “I’m not sure.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
—
ALEX
My hands tremble as I peel back the envelope. Seeing Todd’s name on it sends a chill over my neck and shoulders. Clammy hands withdraw the letter from inside. Sitting on my couch, I open it and read the contents.
I knew you wouldn’t want to hear from me and would avoid all attempts to reach you, so my only option was to write a letter. I owe you a deep and regretted apology. I’ve hurt you in a way I never thought myself capable of, and because of it, I’ll live with this regret the rest of my life. I never stopped loving you but managed to push you away, time and again, because of my own ego and my own selfish needs. I realize now how many mistakes I’ve made and more than anything I hope you can someday forgive me.
I admit, Carter and I had an altercation. He swung first, and I reacted by doing the same thing and punched him. What I didn’t expect was for him to trip and fall, putting him dangerously in front of a moving vehicle. Whether you believe me or not, this is the truth. I know I’ve made mistakes, but if you know me at all, you know I would never intentionally try to harm someone like that.
Since our argument and the altercation between Carter and me, I’ve seen a therapist who helped me cope with my father’s passing, my guilt of hurting you, and my guilt about Carter’s injury. In my efforts to make peace with my actions, I have anonymously donated a large sum toward Carter’s medical bills. I feel responsible for his suffering and owe him the opportunity to heal from his injury without struggling with overwhelming medical fees.
I miss you, Alexandria, and if we never speak again, I hope you find happiness. All I ever wanted for us was to be happy together. There was a time when the sight of me brought a light to your eyes I’ll never forget. A time when my touch drew the very breath from your lips. A time when I possessed the love from a woman who more than anything wanted to be my wife. I’ll forever miss her.
Folding the letter closed, a single tear cascades down my cheek, his words leaving my gut in a tight knot. Looking back, it pains me to think about how far Todd and I fell from loving one another. So much chaos and heartbreak surround us. It’s pity I feel when thinking about how happy we once were versus where we are now.
My phone dings, and I jump, my thoughts scattering. Swiping the screen, I read the text.
Dinner last night was great. I’m looking forward to seeing you today. :)
Me too. On my way shortly. ♥
Just the thought of Carter washes away all the negative feelings surrounding Todd. Placing the letter back in the envelope, I put it inside a drawer in the kitchen and gather my bag.
***
My gaze sweeps the horizon and watches Marco Island become s
maller in the distance. With my hands wrapped around the white bars of the boat railing, I raise my chin, enjoying the touch of the sun on my skin and the cool, salty breeze sweeping over my face. The familiar touch of Carter’s hands overlaps my fingers as he molds his chest to my back. With a tender kiss, he sends a warming sensation rushing over my skin. His head rests against mine, holding me closely as we both look out at the landscape ahead of us.
“What are you thinking?” he asks, the graze of his lips tickling my ear.
“How glad I am that we’ve taken this weekend to spend together.”
“I am too. It’ll be a struggle to come back.” In his words, I hear a troubled tone.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, a few things on my mind is all.”
Muscles tense, he goes silent. Looking over my shoulder at him, he seems lost in thought. A moment passes, and his escalated breathing worries me.
“Carter?”
At the sound of my voice, he snaps out of his trance. “A fight,” he blurts out, seemingly disoriented.
“Did you have a memory?”
“Yeah, I think it was my first MMA fight.”
Turning in his arms, the boat railing is hard on my back, but I don’t care.
Unbreak This Heart Page 24
