by Rebecca Shea
“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers into my ear. His voice is quiet but shaky. I can tell he’s crying by the sniffles I hear between the words he’s whispering. “We will get through this, together. You and I. Nothing will break us, ever. Not this. Do you hear me, Jess? Nothing. We’re unbreakable.”
God I hope he is right.
Holding her in my arms while she cries herself to sleep breaks my heart. I can feel her body trembling, and I’m helpless to all of it. All I can do is hold her and reassure her that she’ll be, that we’ll be fine. I want to believe that. I watch her as she sleeps in my arms, finally resting my head next to hers, and I breathe her in.
Lying here, I listen to her soft breaths, holding her, feeling her body continue to shake in her sleep. I am certain that even though she is sleeping she is not at peace. Who the fuck could hurt her like this? I will do everything in my power to find this sick fuck and make him pay. Sliding my arm out from underneath her, I try to move as quietly as possible so that she will not wake, knowing she needs the rest for her body to heal.
Sliding out of the bed, I can’t help but stare at her, curled into a protective ball on this stiff hospital bed. Her beautiful olive skin has lost all semblance of its color and is pale. Her face is marked purple and pink with large bruises, and is slightly swollen under her eyes. My beautiful girl looks like a small child, scared and helpless. I quietly leave her room to go home, shower, and change quickly.
Chief is still sitting in the waiting room sitting in the same chair he’s been in for the last six hours. He still hasn’t spoken to her but has sat vigil outside her door. We came here together when we got the call. It was the paramedics from our station that responded, and one of the most difficult calls I’ve ever received. While little was communicated, other than her initial injuries, we all knew what had likely happened.
While I was the one who flipped my shit, punching water coolers and kicking trashcans across the emergency room and eventually the waiting room, Chief sat stoic and quiet. At times, I’d find his face buried in his hands, whispering quiet prayers.
Chief listened quietly and let me ask questions when the doctors would update us on her condition, only nodding his head when the facts were spoken. Closing the door to her room behind me, I try not to startle him.
“Chief, I need to run home quickly. I’ll be back in about an hour. She’s asleep, but I don’t want her to wake up alone. Will you go sit with her?”
With a single nod, he pushes himself up from the stiff chair. While he’s only in his late forties, he looks as if he’s aged since last night. His face is somber and ashen and his hair a mess. Quietly moving past me, he stops, meeting my eyes for the first time since we arrived.
“How is she?”
“Hurting.” It’s the only word that comes to mind. Physical, emotional, and mental pain is all I see when I look at her.
Chief nods his head and enters her room. I watch him as he slowly makes his way to the foot of her bed, standing over her. For the first time ever, I see emotion from Chief. A single tear rolls down his cheek as he watches her sleep. Moving to the side of her bed, I see him plant a soft kiss to the top of her head before sitting down to take watch over her.
I notice that Ava’s car is parked in the driveway when I get home. She must have left school early when I texted her to tell her Jess was attacked on her run. Entering through the side door of our house that opens into the kitchen, everyone is sitting around the dining room table in silence, cups of coffee littering the table. Mom, Dad, Luke, Ava, and Adrian all sit quietly, looking at me for any updates.
I glance around the table not knowing what to tell them or what Jess would want me to tell them. I politely nod at all of them but feel the lump forming in my throat, so I retreat and move through the living room and up the stairs to my bedroom. I can’t talk about this right now as I’m still trying to process everything myself.
Taking the steps two at the time, I slam the bedroom door behind me. Kicking off my shoes, I throw myself onto my bed and bury my face in my pillow. Willing myself to breathe deeply, I try to calm myself down when all I feel is anger and rage roiling through me. I hear a light knock on my door, and I know its Ava.
“Go away,” I mutter into my pillow.
Tap Tap Tap
Finally, the door squeaks open and I feel the side of my bed sink.
“Please tell me what happened.” Ava’s voice is soft and quiet as she sets her hand on my back. “Please,” she begs.
With my face still buried in my pillow, I just shake my head back and forth. I can’t talk yet.
“Gabe, I’m going to go see her. Tell me what I can expect, please.”
“No. Don’t go there,” I say, pushing myself up from my pillow. Rolling onto my back I place my hands underneath my head, staring at my ceiling. “It’s bad.” Those are the only words I am able to speak
“How bad?” Ava’s voice breaks. Lying there, I ignore the question because I don’t know if I should tell her. Her voice is firmer with me when she asks again. “How bad is it? Answer me, god dammit.”
Finally making eye contact with her, my eyes are stinging with tears. Blinking to keep them from spilling out, I feel them finally break free of their confines, spilling down and into my hair. I shift to look at Ava who is sniffling, wiping tears from her own face. Looking at her hurting causes me to lose the little bit of control I was holding onto. Jumping from the bed, I am no longer able to control the bile rising from my stomach. Running into the bathroom, I slam the door behind me as I make it just in time to lose everything that was in my stomach.
Showering and changing, I make my way back to the hospital, winding through the hallways to Jess’ room. Chief stops me outside the door, pressing a hand to my chest.
“Can’t go in, she’s being interviewed,” he says so calmly and matter of fact. Peering through the window on the door, I see two detectives, a man, and woman talking to her. Her eyes are downcast as she stares at her fidgeting hands.
“When did she wake up?”
“About ten minutes after you left.”
“How was she?”
“Quiet.”
Taking a seat next to Chief in one of the chairs outside her room, I study the exhausted face of the almost unrecognizable man sitting next to me.
“You should go get some rest.” He shuffles his feet, crossing them underneath his chair and releases a quiet sigh.
“I know I haven’t been the best father to her. I know I haven’t always been there for her like your family has. I just didn’t know what to do with a little girl by myself…” his voice trails off. “…and I know Jess loves me, but she’s going to need you now more than ever. She doesn’t trust or need me like she trusts and needs you.”
I nod in acknowledgement of his words. Swallowing the newly formed lump in my throat, I say, “I know.” My stomach turns and clenches into a knot. I’m so fucking angry that I couldn’t keep her safe. I couldn’t protect her like I’d promised her I always would.
The door to her room opens and the two detectives make their way out. Both nod their heads at us as they pass. I stand to go see Jess, while Chief follows the detectives and stops them down the hall as I enter her room. She’s lying there, all curled up in a ball again, not crying or sleeping, just lying there. Her eyes void of any emotion at all.
“Hey, baby,” I whisper, leaning down to kiss her cheek. She pulls away from my touch, not wanting me to kiss her.
“Baby, look at me,” I tell her gently. “Jess, please,” I beg, her eyes finally shifting to me. “Ava wants to come see you. Would you be okay with that?”
“No,” she replies. Her throat is tight, and her words are barely audible. Her eyes instantly flood with tears, spilling down onto her pillow. Her lips and chin tremble as she closes her eyes, causing more tears to fall. Reaching out to touch her arm, she flinches at my contact.
“Everyone is really concerned about you and wants to see you. Mom hasn’t slept and h
as prayed the rosary about a hundred times.”
Jess knows my mom worries, and when she worries, she prays the rosary in Spanish. The nurse enters the room quietly, making brief eye contact with me before dropping her eyes to Jess’ balled up form on the bed.
“Sweetie, you get to go home in just a bit. We’re just waiting on your discharge papers,” she says quietly. “Do you want me to help you get changed?” she asks.
“I can help her,” I mutter angrily. I’m her fucking boyfriend. I will help her get dressed. Jennifer nods at me, pulling the curtain beside the bed on her way out.
“Let’s sit you up,” I say, pushing the incline button on the remote that’s attached to the bed.
Once sitting, I grab the bag I brought back with me that has clean clothes in it for Jess. Slowly dropping her long legs off the side of the bed, her feet almost touch the floor. She drops her head as her legs hang there with her oversized hospital gown hanging down past her knees.
“Stand up,” I whisper as she pushes herself off the bed, balancing herself on wobbly feet.
“Turn around.” I place my hands on her arms and guide her to turn around. I reach for the ties on her pale blue hospital gown, gripping the top tie. I gently pull it and watch the top of the gown fall off her shoulders. Pulling the second tie, the gown falls open further. As I grasp the third and final tie, she presses her hands to the front of the gown, over her chest, holding it in place so that it won’t fall to the ground.
Urging her to turn around again so that she’s now facing me, her head is bowed, and her arms are tightly crossed across the front of her body, still holding her gown. Opening the bag on the bed, I pull out a pair of panties and a bra. Lowering myself down in front of her, I hold each side of the panties, and she slowly steps into them one leg at a time. Raising them slowly, my arms reaching under her gown, I pull them onto her hips.
Reaching for the bra, Jess stops me. She takes the bra from my hands and turns around so her back is facing me. The hospital gown drops to the floor as Jess reaches through each arm of her bra and fastens it behind her back. Handing her, her favorite pair of worn blue jeans, she takes them from me. Before I’m able to do anything else, she has grabbed her navy blue tank top, and is pulling it on over her head. I hand her a khaki light-weight jacket to put on over her tank top and drop a pair of black flip-flops on the floor for her. I even remembered to pack some make-up and accessories in case she wanted to wear them.
She looks in the bag and sees the gold bangle bracelets and gold earrings and shoots me a small, stiff smile. Grabbing her make-up bag, she moves towards the small bathroom. Shuffling her feet slowly, she winces slightly as she moves. She flips the light on in the small bathroom and sets her make-up bag in the sink. Her long brown, wavy hair hangs loose down the middle of her back. I stand, watching her move slowly, methodically, and with little emotion.
Raising her head for the first time, she looks into the mirror, and a loud gasp escapes her mouth. Her hands fly up to her face, and she starts touching her cheeks and her eyes. Quickly, I move in behind her, holding her shuddering shoulders.
“It’s just bruises,” I remind her. “They’ll heal quickly.”
She runs her fingers over her cheek, and then under her eyes. Turning her around, I try to pull her into a hug but she wiggles out of it.
“Why won’t you let me touch you? Please, let me hug you,” I plead with her. Pushing around me, she walks back toward the bed when the nurse appears again.
“Ready to go?” she asks, waving Jess’ discharge papers. Jess nods her head and grabs her bag. I reach to take the bag from her shoulder, and she quickly shifts her shoulder so that I can’t take it, scooting past me again as she heads for the door.
“Is my dad out here?” she asks me without turning around.
“Yes, but I’m taking you home,” I snap at her, not meaning too. Stopping dead in her tracks, her back still to me, I move up to her. I don’t touch her as I stand just inches behind her.
“Why won’t you talk to me? Why won’t you let me help you or touch you?” I beg her for answers. Without turning around, I get my answer in the coldest tone I’ve ever heard.
“I need my dad to take me home.” My heart breaks.
Dad is rearranging clutter in his pick-up as I sit on the front bench seat leaning my head against the window. I watch Gabe standing outside the entrance to the hospital, his hands stuffed into the front pockets of his jeans, his shoulders hung in defeat, as he just stares at us. I think he mouths the words ‘I love you’ to me, but I lower my eyes and pretend to not see him. I don’t know why I’m pushing him away. He is and has always been everything I have ever wanted or needed.
“Hungry kiddo?” my dad asks. “You need to eat something,” he says, seemingly concerned for the first time in his life. Funny that it’s food and eating that he’s concerned with. I shrug my shoulders, knowing that nothing will help the sick feeling in my stomach. Today is a gloomy, overcast day. The sky is full of dark, ominous clouds, much like my mood.
“Can we just go home? You can pick up food later, okay? I’m just really tired.”
“Sure thing, sweetheart.”
Walking into our house, I drop my bag by the front door and kick off my flip-flops. Walking down the hallway towards my room, I peel off my jacket and toss it on my bedroom floor, kicking my door shut behind me. I toss myself onto my bed, and I gasp, realizing how badly my ribs hurt. I gently pull my chenille blanket over me, and for the first time, I feel like I might be able to sleep.
I jump when I hear the doorbell ring. Forcing myself to sit up, I notice I am drenched in sweat. Slowly shifting to get out of bed, I hear a light knock at my door.
“Can I come in?” Dad says.
“Yes.”
“This was just returned to you,” he says, handing me my phone. “They, ah, had to keep it last night to go through it, check it for evidence.”
I take the phone from his hand and wipe some dirt off the front of it. I push the little round button at the bottom and unlock the screen, seeing that I have multiple notifications for e-mails and text messages. I toss the phone over to my bed, not ready for contact with the outside world just yet.
“I think I’m finally hungry, can you pick up some Chinese?” I ask.
“Of course. Anything in particular you want?”
“I would love some Kung-Pao shrimp.” A small smile crosses my dad’s face.
“Anything you want. Do you want me to invite Gabe over?” I don’t even hesitate when I answer him.
“How about just you and I tonight, Dad?” He nods, but looks at me questioningly.
“Sure thing, sweetheart.”
I hear him grabbing his keys, and locking the front door before I hear the rumble of his truck taking off down the street. Realizing for the first time that I have not showered since yesterday morning, I know I have traces of that man on my body. Stripping myself of all my clothes, I move as quickly as I can into the bathroom turning the water on as hot as it’ll go.
I grab my toothbrush and brush my teeth. I then pull out some mouthwash out from underneath the sink. Swishing a huge mouthful around, I let it sting the insides of my mouth before spitting it into the sink. The bathroom is filling with steam as I step into the shower. Turning it down just a little, it’s to the point where I can just barely tolerate the heat. Letting the water run down my head, my face, and my body, I grab my loofah and pour body wash all over it, frantically washing my body.
I want all traces of last night off of me. I scrub my face, my arms, my legs, and stomach. I drop the loofah to the floor of the shower and grab my body wash, squirting some in my hand. I lower my hand, between my legs and gently rub the scented soap between my legs. I’m sore, and for the first time, I realize how violated my body is. No one other than Gabe has left his mark on me, and here I feel where another man has been, uninvited.
Finishing my shower, I wrap a large bath towel around myself. Walking to my bed, I reach for my di
rt covered cell phone. Opening the main screen, I open my text messages and text Gabe.
I need you. Please come over.
Drying myself, I wait impatiently to see if he’ll respond. It must not have even been a minute that I sent that text message, but I hear Gabe unlock the front door, close it, and re-lock it. The sounds of his heavy footsteps are just outside my door and then there is a soft knock.
“Everything okay?” he asks concerned. His hand is still on the doorknob as he stands in my doorway, looking at me standing in nothing more than a bath towel.
“Close the door,” I say. Following my instructions he slowly moves to close the door yet keeps his distance from me.
“Make love to me,” I tell him.
“Jess,” he sighs, walking towards me with pained eyes.
“Make love to me.” I raise my voice at him. He’s standing in front of me, each of his hands holding both of my arms.
“You’re not ready for that. Your body needs to heal,” he says quietly.
“I need to feel you, please. All I feel is him, and I need to feel you,” I cry.
“I want nothing more than to make love to you, but we have to let your body heal.”
“Screw you!” I lash out, pulling myself out of his hold. “This disgusts you, doesn’t it?” I say, dropping my towel to the floor and pointing to my bruised body. He stands there moving his eyes up and down the front of me, taking in the sight of my bruised and battered flesh. He’s shaking his head no, but I know what he’s thinking.
“Say it!” I yell at him. “I disgust you, don’t I?”
“Stop saying that. You’ll never disgust me.” He’s angry and I can see him shaking slightly.
“Then make love to me. Please,” I beg. My tone has gone from angry to sad. Tears are threatening to spill out of my eyes while he stands looking at me. He has never denied me sexually, until now.
