by Kylie Walker
She slipped on her shoes and said, “Okay, I’m ready.”
She got out of the car and Derek picked up her wrap and got out his side. He was going to drape it over her shoulders but thought better of it. He held it out to her and she thanked him and took it. When they reached the door of the diner Derek pulled it open. Bells announced their arrival and every head in the place turned to look at them. There were three men at the counter that looked every bit the part of a long-haul truck driver in their jeans and flannel shirts. A haggard looking man sat in one of the pink booths with a teenaged girl that looked pissed at the world and an elderly couple sat two booths away from them, eating their senior special and talking in hushed tones. Derek led Chloe to a booth near the window as far away from the others as they could get. The waitress in her pink uniform and white shoes came over right away with two glasses of ice water and the coffee pot.
“Hey you two sure do brighten this drab old place up,” she said with a smile. Derek smiled back at her. Chloe was staring at a spot on the Formica table. “Y’all want coffee?”
“Yes, please,” Derek told her. She flipped over their cups and filled them and then Derek told her, “That’ll be it for now, thank you.” She smiled and went back behind the counter. When she was gone Derek said, “Now, can we talk?”
Chloe pulled her head up and looked at him. She seemed to be searching his eyes or his face, trying to see something there that convinced her she could trust him. He didn’t know if she found it or if she just resigned herself to the fact that he wasn’t going to let this go, but she started talking.
“I do know Vince Donovan,” she said. Her voice was so low that Derek had to lean in to hear her. “I did, anyways, in my former life.” She paused there and Derek waited a bit before saying, “What do you mean...your former life?”
She brought her blue eyes up to meet his and said, “Chloe Green is not the name I was given at birth. It’s the name that I chose...when I changed my identity. My name is Chloe now, she’s who I am now, but it used to be Kelly Ward. Does that sound familiar to you at all?”
She watched his face closely as he said, “No, not at all.” He was trying to wrap his head around the fact that she’d changed her identity. Why? Was she running from the law? He didn’t want to ask any questions yet. He was afraid that if he did, she would stop talking. He waited for her to go on. When she did she asked, “Do you really not know where Jesse Donovan is right now?”
“I really don’t,” he said, honestly.
He had heard something about him getting into some trouble with the law. His father mentioned how embarrassed Jesse’s father had been by the whole ordeal...but Sarah died right around the same time and Derek was plunged headlong into a world of pain and grief that he truly believed he wasn’t going to survive. He was concerned for Sarah’s parents and himself. He had no room in his head at the time for thoughts of anyone else, or what they might be going through.
“He’s in prison,” she said, flatly. Derek wanted to ask how she knew that and why. He wanted to hurry her up...but again, he kept it in check. He took a sip of his coffee and watched as she poured creamer into hers and stirred it for way too long and then she finally said, “He will be getting out this week.”
“Oh,” he said, not knowing what else to say. She kept stirring her coffee. He wanted to reach over and take the spoon out of her hand but he resisted.
After what seemed like an hour she said, “His father knew who I was tonight; I could see it in his eyes. He recognized me and that’s why I panicked.”
Panicked? Why would seeing the D.A. of New York City cause her to panic? Again, he held back his questions and waited.
“He’s going to tell Jesse where I am. He’s going to tell him that I’m with you and Jesse is going to come looking for me. When he finds me...heaven help us all.”
Derek finally had to ask, “Why, Chloe? Why are you hiding from Jesse Donovan? What was he in prison for?”
She looked at him hard again, like she was trying to read his mind. At last she said, “You really don’t know?”
He told her then that he’d heard Jesse got into some trouble, but because of troubles of his own, he hadn’t really cared to hear the details. Now that he knew it had something to do with her, he wanted to know, “Why are you so afraid of them? What did they do to you?”
Derek felt like he’d had the wind knocked out of him when she said, “Jesse tried to kill me.”
Chapter 3
“He tried to kill you?”
Chloe could see in Derek’s eyes that he was genuinely shocked. He really didn’t know. If he didn’t know that, then maybe he was telling the truth and he wasn’t really involved with Jesse and his father. Maybe it was a horrible, twisted coincidence that she had ended up falling for a man who knew them so well. It was some kind of cosmic joke. She wished that it was funny.
“Yes. I’m sorry,” she said. She was suddenly having a hard time breathing. It was stuffy in the diner and the smell of grease hung heavy in the air. “Can we go outside?”
“Of course,” he said. He left a twenty on the table and by the time he stood up, she was halfway to the door. She went through the door and hit the fresh air. She stood there for a few minutes just drinking it in. She needed to walk. She wasn’t going to be able to sit still while she was talking about this. She wasn’t even convinced she’d be able to get through talking about it at all.
“Can we walk and talk?” she said. Derek nodded and she started walking.
The diner was located on a small frontage road. It was dark, but the moon was almost full and the stars were out in force, so as they walked along the side of the road, their way was somewhat lit.
“I’m going to start at the very beginning,” she said. “I can explain it all better that way, I think.”
“Sure, whatever is best for you,” he said. God, she wanted so badly for this man to be everything he seemed to be...but she had been so wrong before.
“I was adopted as a baby, I’ve told you that. My adoptive parent’s names are Tom and Marg Ward. They had another daughter, Daphne. She was a year older than me.
Tom worked in the city as a contractor. He had his own business and we were pretty well off financially...I guess. I didn’t reap many benefits of that, but we lived in a nice house and in a nice neighborhood. My first real, clear memory is of the day Daphne started kindergarten. I remember being sad and wanting to go with her. I don’t remember why but I remember being afraid of being alone at the house. My father was a drunk. I didn’t really know that until later either. Some days were good...normal, I guess is the word. I never felt like I fit in, or that any of them even particularly liked me...but some days he was sober, and he left me alone.”
They came to the end of the frontage road. It was a dead end and blocked off with a white fence and orange reflectors. There was a dirt road that stretched along behind it. Chloe barely paused before going around it and continuing on her way. Derek followed her. When she hadn’t spoken for a long time he said, “He left you alone? Was he abusive, Chloe?”
“To say the least,” she said. “I’ve thought a lot about why they even bothered adopting me in the first place and the only thing I’ve ever been able to come up with is that Marg wouldn’t let him hurt Daphne. I was his whipping girl...and then later on, a lot more disgusting things.”
She looked at Derek’s face. She’d never told another living soul about the sexual abuse. It made her sick and ashamed to think about it. She wondered if it was going to make him sick too. She wondered if it would make him so sick that he’d never want to touch her again. She took another deep breath and told herself there was no going back now and she pushed on.
“The first real beating I remember was when I was about five. It may have happened before that, but I was too young to remember, or I blocked it out. I was always afraid of him, so he was probably hurting me all along. Anyways, the first time I remember...my mother and Daphne had gone to Daphne’s school f
or an open house or something. My “father” was already drinking and I was scared to death to be alone with him. I remember begging her to take me with her. I cried and clutched onto her leg. She peeled me off and told me to “be a good girl.” She said “Daddy” had a bad day and I should do whatever he needed me to do to make it better. When they left, I went to my room. I hoped that I could hide in there...but he followed me....” Chloe was suddenly thrust back into the past. Her eyes lost all focus and she was once again that scared little girl...She was Kelly Ward...
“Come out and watch TV with your daddy,” he said. His face was too close to hers and the smell of alcohol and cigarettes made her sick to her stomach.
“I’m just going to listen to the radio,” Kelly told him.
He was smiling when he grabbed hold of her long blonde hair. It felt like he was pulling it out by the roots and she screamed as he drug her out of the room and down the hall. He threw her onto the couch and said, “I’m gonna fix another drink. Stay there.” As soon as he turned his back, she tried to run for the door. She was five and they lived in the city. She had no idea where she thought she was going to go. He caught her around the waist. She was grateful it wasn’t her hair until he picked her up and tossed her against the wall. She had a vivid memory of sliding down the wall and before she hit the floor he was standing over her, taking off his belt. “I told you to stay put. You’re a stupid little girl. You’re as stupid as you are ugly.”
“I’m sorry, daddy. I’m sorry! I won’t do it again, I’m sorry!” Kelly screamed and cried and begged and apologized all the way down the hall. All of it only seemed to feed his need to hurt her. She was thrown onto the bed on her face and he pulled up her shirt and whipped her with the belt...over and over again. When he finally ran out of steam he left her there. She was bleeding and she couldn’t move. She was sure she was going to die. She was also sure that when her mom got home that she was going to be so angry. She was right. Her mother was angry...with her.
“I told you to be good. You never listen!”
“I wasn’t bad...”
“Shut-up, Kelly! He’s asleep. You’re going to wake him up. Do you want that? Are you so stupid that you want to get beat again? Jesus, now I’m going to have to spend half the night cleaning you up. Go get in the bathtub!” Little Kelly dragged her battered body up off the bed and started limping towards the bathroom. She heard her mother’s voice behind her say, “Shit! The comforter is ruined. Damn her! Daphne, take this off and put it in the washer and get a clean blanket from the linen closet.”
In what Chloe would come to remember as Daphne’s signature whine, the six year old had said, “Why do I have to do it? Kelly messed it up!”
“Oh my God,” the sound of Derek’s voice brought her back. He was looking at her with tears in his eyes. He looked like he wanted to throw up. “Oh Chloe, baby...God, I’m so sorry. I don’t even know what to say. I want to kill him.”
She tried to form a smile. It was probably more of a grimace in the end. “Me too,” she said. “I learned how to go somewhere else in my head when the beatings were happening. The older I got, the more frequent they became. When I was in those other places I would see that little girl and I would feel bad for her and want to help her...but I didn’t know how. Then when I was ten, the game changed.”
She saw Derek shudder. He knew what was coming and she considered not saying it out loud. The details of what took place for the next eight years were sick and twisted and she was sure that Derek could fill in the blanks himself if she left it at that. But she had opened the gate and the feelings and the memories...no matter how bad they were, no matter how painful and disgusting...they wanted out all of a sudden.
“I got pretty good at avoiding him. He drank so much that I think if I was out of his sight, he would almost forget I existed altogether. I loved school and I threw myself into it. I volunteered to be a tutor my fifth grade year. I would stay after school until six every day and then I would sneak in the house and go straight to my room. Sometimes my so-called mother would remember I existed...usually only when Daphne complained that she had to sit down at the dinner table every night and I didn’t. When that happened, she’d make me come out and then after dinner while she and Daphne made crafts in her sewing room or whatever...I was told to do the dishes and that would leave me passing through the living room when I was finished...where I always knew he would be. One night I was cleaning up and I kept checking to see if he was passed out yet. It was taking him a really long time, but I was determined to stay put until he did. I finally looked out and saw him with his head back on the couch and his mouth open. His eyes were closed and breathing a sigh of relief, I started through the room. I was right in front of him when he opened his eyes and smiled. It was a game to him. He knew I was waiting.”
“Where you going Kelly?”
“To my room,” she’d said, “I have some homework to do.”
“Okay baby, but before you go, come here and give daddy a kiss.”
“He never called me baby and he never kissed me. I was more terrified than I had ever been and the last thing I was going to do was offer myself to him. I was too little to know what he had in mind, but I knew whatever it was, would be bad. I ran for the door but as soon as I did, he got up. I reached the door and even had it flung open before he caught me...but he did catch me. He slammed the door closed and with me kicking and screaming, he carried me downstairs into the basement. What he did to me there was a hundred times worse than the beatings.” She paused and took a breath while wiping away her tears.
“When he finished, he told me that if I ever told anyone, he would kill me. He said that I was a “slut” and what he’d done to me was what I’d been made for. He finished by telling me that as ugly as I was, I should feel thankful that he wanted me, because no one else ever would. It happened at least once a week from then on for the next eight years. It got weirder and sicker every time and sometimes he would be rough and beat me and other times he would act like I was his lover. I hated those times the worst. I’d rather be beaten than have him believe that I enjoyed any part of being with him. I hated him with a passion and I hated my mother and my sister even more for not saving me.”
Chloe was shaking even harder now and Derek looked like he couldn’t stand it any longer. Tears were rolling down his face and he took a chance and put an arm around her shoulders. It seemed to surprise him when she didn’t pull away...she surprised herself. She didn’t want to pull away. She wanted him to wrap her up and hold her and never let go. She let her head rest on his chest and he pulled her into them and they cried together. They cried for Kelly...the little girl that nobody saved.
Chapter 4
Burning rage hissed through Derek’s body like deathly poison. He knew what Chloe needed right now was for him to be strong and hold her and make her feel safe. But what he wanted to do was release that rage into the kind of wrath that would completely engulf his morality. He wanted to find Tom Ward and kill him with his bare hands...slowly. He wasn’t a violent man, so the intensity of that feeling almost frightened him. It took every ounce of energy he had in his body to keep his focus on Chloe and off of how satisfying that act would be right now.
“Hey,” he said softly after a while. “I don’t think you need to be out here in the cold any longer. Can we go to a hotel? I’ll get you your own room. It’s late and you need some rest.”
“What about the rest of it? I thought you wanted to know about my connection to Jesse?”
When she said Jesse’s name her whole body quivered. Derek had a really bad feeling that what she had to tell him about the other man was as shocking if not more so than what she’d had to say about her childhood.
“That can wait. Let’s get you somewhere warm and at least get a cup of tea in you. Please.”
She nodded and he pulled her in one last time and pressed his lips to the side of her head. He suddenly realized why he wanted so badly to focus on the rage towards her father.
That was because the way he felt when he tried to imagine the pain and agony she had gone through was almost unbearable to him. She had to be the strongest person he’d ever met to be able to handle it herself...alone. He helped her into the car and then he drove them, in complete silence, back towards the city.
When they got there, he found a nice hotel and as she was getting out of the car she said, “Just get one room, please. I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
Derek was relieved. He would have had a really hard time leaving her alone. He registered them and arranged for them to bring up their bags as well as a pot of hot tea.
“Are you hungry?” he asked her. She looked like the very thought of food made her feel nauseous.
“No thank you,” she said.
The elevator ride was silent and while Derek let the bell hop in with their bags and then took care of room service, Chloe sat silently on the balcony and looked out across the city. He poured her a cup of tea and took it out to her. “Thanks,” she said, taking it and wrapping both of her hands around it. He could see the Goosebumps on her arms. She was cold. Likely the myriad of emotions ripping through her at the moment were blocking the receptors in her mind from even realizing it, but he was worried that she was going to get sick.
“How about I start a hot shower for you?” he asked. Chloe actually managed a smile as she looked up at him.
“You don’t have to do that,” she said.
“I know,” he said, “But I need to do something. Let me take care of you tonight, Chloe. I know that you’re more than capable of doing that yourself, but for me...let me help you somehow.”
She reached her hand out and he took it. He felt her squeeze his and she said, “Thank you. I’ve never talked to anyone about all of this...it’s kind of exhausting.”
“I wish I could say that I can imagine,” he said, dropping to his knees next to her. “But I can’t. I can’t even begin to imagine.” He laid his head against her and she put her hands in his hair. He was even more encouraged when he felt her lips brush the top of his head. He let her hold him like that for several minutes before he said, “I’m going to draw the bath.” She smiled again and nodded.
