A Life Less Broken (17 page)

I notice
that distinct tang in his voice, almost like a country singer. He rolls the N
in his word, like his tongue stays connected with the roof of his mouth for a
moment too long. I know that voice; I hear it in my nightmares.

I freeze,
completely unable to move.

Cold washes
over me.

My throat
closes and my stomach spasms, wanting to expel everything inside it.

“Allyn,
you’re trembling.”

I can’t
breathe.

My panic
button, where’s my panic button?
Where the fuck is my panic button?!

I feel
something wet run down my leg. I look down, horrified, at the puddle beneath me
on the hardwood floor. I’ve wet myself.

My body
begins to shut down.

Black spots
cloud my eyes.

It’s him.

He’s found me.

He’ll
kill me.

I collapse.

Dominic

What the
fuck
?

Allyn
collapses. Luckily, I’m standing next to her and I instinctively reach out to catch
her in my arms before she hits the floor.

“Allyn,” I
say loudly, trying to rouse her from her unconscious state.

What the hell
just happened?

I replay the
last few seconds in my head as I lift her and take her to the sofa. Her skirt
is drenched and I look down to see she’s lost control of her bladder.

I take a few
steps and stop.

“Mom,” I
yell urgently. She comes running out to the foyer and looks around frantically.
“Take care of Allyn.”

I know
what’s happened. There’s only one thing that could frighten her badly enough to
wet herself and pass out.

Part of my
education taught me to understand how a victim of abuse reacts when confronted
by an abuser.

I place
Allyn on the sofa and don’t stop to worry about her wet clothes. There’s a
throw on the back of the sofa and I cover her with it.

Fuck. Now I
know Oscar had a part in Allyn’s attack.

Oscar’s
standing in the hallway, at the edge of the family room. He’s still talking on
the phone as I lunge for him. He doesn’t see the punch coming before my fist
makes contact with his goddamn chin.

“What the
fuck did you do?” I shout at him.

“Nothing. What
the fuck’s wrong with you?” he says as he stumbles back. Understanding starts
to dawn in his eyes. His phone is still in his hand. “Wait, let me make a
call.” I grab the phone and throw it against the wall. It smashes and pieces fly
in all different directions.

I don’t give
him a chance to say another fucking word, I grab him by the collar and start smashing
his face, not holding anything back.

He hits me
with an uppercut, causing me to stumble back and lose my hold on him.

“I didn’t do
anything,” he screams, holding his hands up in a defensive stance.

“It was you,”
I yell and charge at him again.

I pin him
against the wall and keep punching him until I can feel the fight leaving his
body.

“What are
you talking about?” he chokes out between punches to the face and abdomen. His
face is bloodied. His eye is quickly swelling, and my knuckles have split. They
hurt like I’ve broken my hand.

I don’t care
about the pain. I push past it and pummel him repeatedly until I feel someone
pulling me off of him.

I turn to attack
the motherfucker tugging me away from Oscar and I see my father’s face. He’s shocked,
but I see guilt and something like regret flash through his eyes before he lets
me go and backs away with his palms up. He’s terrified. But I don’t think it’s
me he’s afraid of.

I’m
petrified that I wouldn’t have stopped if he hadn’t intervened.

I look over
my shoulder at Oscar; he’s slumped on the floor and twisting around, cradling
his stomach. After a sharp moment of silence, sounds erupt in the room all at
once. I can hear my mother sobbing and crying. My father keeps repeating, “Calm
down, Dominic.” And my brother is whimpering.

My blood is
beyond boiling, and my heart’s racing. Anger and fury pump through me, wanting
me to tear Oscar apart.

“We called
911,” my father says in a calmer tone.

Allyn.

I see her on
the sofa, and my heart breaks. She looks so small and helpless lying still, and
I go to her.

“Sweetheart,”
I say but my tone comes out quite hoarse and angry.

I need to
calm myself down.

I kneel
beside her and stroke her hair and kiss her forehead.

“Sweetheart,”
I repeat in a much calmer voice. “You can come back now, I won’t let him hurt
you again.” She doesn’t stir. “Open your eyes and look at me. I need you to
tell me that you love me.” I keep my eyes steady on her face. Not a damn
flicker, not a twitch, nothing. She doesn’t move. “I need you in my life,
Allyn. You’re my rare beauty, the precious gem that stole my heart and you
can’t ever give it back to me, because I won’t take it. We brought color back
into each other’s lives the moment we met. I can’t be without you.” I stroke the
soft skin on her face as I hover over her, and keep talking. “You have all of
me, Allyn, and you have to come back to me.” I kiss her cheek.

“Dominic, the
ambulance and police should be here soon.” Mom places a hand on my shoulder,
and I nod my head, acknowledging her words. “What happened?” she asks, but I
ignore her, focusing on Allyn.

“I only just
found you, please don’t go away. I couldn’t breathe without you by my side. I need
you with me.” I gently lift my fingers to stroke her face softly and catch
sight of my bloody hand.

I try and
wipe the blood on my shirt. Allyn has had enough blood in her life without me
adding to it.

“Dominic,”
my mother says as she moves next to me. I look at Mom, who’s got tears
trickling down her cheeks. “What happened, son?”

“He raped
her three years ago. And she recognized his voice and collapsed.”

“Your
brother is a lawyer, Dominic. He took an oath to uphold the law. Why would he have
done that to Allyn?” she asks.

I remember
something that Lauren told me when I first asked to get me information on
Allyn. There were so many girls and only two survived, one of whom took her
life shortly after she was found.

“She’s not
the only one, Mom. There were a lot of others. Allyn is the only survivor
though.” I look down at Allyn and lift her hand against my face and run her
palm along my cheek, comforted by the feel of her soft, pale skin.

“Wait, this
was a few years back if I remember correctly.” Mom’s eyebrows furrow together
and she bites her lip in frustration as she looks like she’s trying to remember
something.

“Three
years.” I look around the room and don’t see Dad. “Where’s Dad?” I ask Mom.

“He’s looking
after your brother.”

Every hair follicle
stands on end when Mom relates me to Oscar. “He’s no brother of mine.”

“Dominic, this
might all be a misunderstanding. It might not have been him. You can’t come to such
a drastic conclusion without even giving him the benefit of explaining.”

“I don’t
have to give him anything. Allyn’s body told me all I need to know. Mom, she
heard his voice and lost control of her bladder.”

“Is she
wet?” Mom asks and pulls the covers back.

“Yeah she
is.”

“I’ve got some
new panties, still in the plastic, and some sleep pants that will fit her. I’ll
go get them.” Mom rushes out of the room.

I turn back
to Allyn.

“Come on,
sweetheart. We have a lifetime of memories to make, and we can’t do that if you
won’t open your eyes.” I drop my voice and whisper in her ear, “I’ll always
protect you. You’ll never feel pain again as long as I’m close to you.”

“Dominic,” Mom
says, taking my attention away from my girl.

“I love you
more than my own life,” I whisper as I kiss her on the cheek and run my hand up
and down her arm.

“I’ll get
her cleaned up and changed, son. Go and see to your hand.”

“No, Mom, I’ll
take care of her.”

Mom bites on
her lip and turns to leave.

I undress Allyn,
wiping her with the dry part of the skirt I just took off her. I take the
panties out of the packaging and slip them on her, then get her legs into the
sleep pants and pull them up over her hips. I pick her up and move her to the
other sofa, wrapping her up in the blanket. I don’t want her waking and
becoming embarrassed when the police and paramedics arrive. She needs to retain
as much dignity as she can during this very difficult time for her.

“Mom,” I
call.

“Do you need
help, Dominic?”

“No it’s
done. But I need you to take her clothes and put them in a bag in case the
police need them. I don’t think she’ll ever want to see them again. If the
police don’t need them, throw them away, or destroy them, I don’t care.”

“Alright,
I’ll wait for them to tell me what to do with them. Look, if your brother…”

“He’s not my
brother. He did this.”

“If he did,
then he’ll be dealt with by the law.”

I run my
bloodied hands through my hair then over my face. “Not if I get to him first.”

“Dominic,”
my father calls from his position next to Oscar.

I get up and
walk out to find my father opening the door to four policemen.

They flash a
glance at Oscar laying bloodied on the floor, then to me. They see my cracked, blood-covered
hands. Immediately one draws his gun and yells at me to lie face down on the
floor with my arms outstretched and palms facing down.

I comply
with their demands and one approaches and cuffs me.

“I’m gonna
help you up,” he says as he tugs on my arms as I lift myself.

Another
police officer stands in front of me.

“I’m Officer
Sweeney.  What happened to him?” he asks me.

“I beat the
shit out of him,” I answer.

“Looks that
way. Now why did you do that?”

“Because he
raped my girlfriend.” Sweeney’s eyebrows rise in surprise.

The
paramedics arrive and see Oscar on the floor, moaning in pain.

Fucker, I
should’ve killed him.

He turns and
gives Sweeney a small nod.

“Don’t worry
about him, get my girlfriend to the hospital. She’s over there.” I jut my chin
toward the family room. “She passed out and I can’t wake her up.”

One of the
paramedics goes to her and I’m relieved to know she’s being cared for.

“Make sure
he’s cuffed,” Sweeney instructs one of the other police officers as he’s
looking at Oscar.

“Mom, go
with Allyn. If she wakes up before I’m released, tell her I’ll be there the
moment I can.”

“Of course,”
she says as she kisses my cheek.

 “Let’s take
this back to the station and get it sorted,” Sweeney says and leads me out the
door.

Sandwiched
between two police officers, I’m pushed and pulled out the front door.

Getting
further and further away from my beautiful, courageous Allyn.

Dominic

“Mr. Shriver,
your father is here to see you,” a young female police officer announces as Dad
walks in behind her.

I’ve been
sitting in this cold, sterile room for the better part of an hour. The
handcuffs are off, but I still feel caged in here.

No one’s
taken my statement yet. I have no idea what’s happening beyond this room. No
one has told me anything about Allyn’s condition, or Oscar’s.
Not that I
care about him.

“Dad,” I say
as I stand and walk toward him. “What’s happened to Allyn?”

“Thank you.”
My father graciously thanks the police officer and she steps out, closing the
door behind her.

“Dad?”

“Son, we’ve
got a few things to talk about.” Dad sits down in the chair opposite to the one
I was sitting in. He leans his elbows on the table and hangs his head, as if
he’s dreading this conversation.

I catch another
glimpse of some unknown emotion in his eyes, something I’ve never seen him
express before. Suddenly, I know what he’s feeling.

Shame.

“What’s
going on?” I sit down and lean across to Dad to touch his hand.

“Don’t,” he
says, pulling his hand away. His voice loaded with so much remorse and sorrow.

“Is Allyn
alright? Has something happened to her? I swear, if something’s happened I will
end him,” I spit through a tightly clenched jaw as I get up and start pacing,
unable to remain still. “I will fucking kill him if…if…
fuck!
” I turn
and punch the wall out of anger and frustration. That sick fuck.

“Calm down,
Dominic. It’s nothing like that. I talked to your mother before I came in here.
We got her a private room at the hospital, and Allyn’s comfortable, but she’s
not awake yet. Your mother and I are taking care of all her medical costs.”

My fist already
hurts from laying into Oscar, but now, thanks to my outburst, the pain has
intensified. I think I may have broken a knuckle. But I don’t care about that;
I just have a raw and uncontrollable need to hurt the man who’s hurt Allyn.

Then I
reconsider my father’s words. “Hang on. Why did you set her up in a private
room?” I ask, curious. They only met Allyn tonight. They aren’t any more
responsible for Oscar’s actions then I am. Why are they suddenly so concerned
about her?

Unless…

Dad’s
ashamed.

My parents have
accepted her medical expenses.

My father
has something to tell me.

Their
reaction when I beat Oscar, and told them what he did to Allyn was, for the
lack of a better word,
calm
. Accepting.

I flop back
down in the chair, and pray to every God ever known to man that I’m simply over-thinking
this and that they didn’t know about Oscar. About what he did to the woman I
brought to their home.

Because if
they did, they’re just as responsible as he is. Worse. They should be arrested
too. Why, if they knew, did they do nothing about it?

“Dad?” I ask
in a quiet voice, not wanting to ask, but needing to know.

Dad looks
across at me and quickly looks away, unable to hold my gaze.  That fleeting
look of guilt I saw earlier is plastered on his face. It can no longer be
hidden.

His
shoulders slump and his brows knit together as he takes a deep breath.

“Please tell
me you and Mom didn’t know about this,” I plead with him.
Please let me be imagining
this shit.

Dad says
nothing.

Not a
goddamn fucking word.

He’s hiding
his face but his body language is radiating shame and guilt.

“Dad, I need
to know,” I say more forcefully but silently hoping it’s not true.

He nods his
head once, the smallest of nods. No, that’s not good enough. I need to hear the
words.

“Dad, tell
me the truth,” I say still praying that I’ve got it wrong.

“When your
brother…”

“He’s not my
brother,” I cut him off.

He sighs. “When
Oscar was in his last year of high school and you were in the first year of
college, Oscar came home saying that a girl at school was accusing him of rape.
He said that she was going to go to the police and tell them about it unless he
turned himself in.”

What? Why
didn’t she go to the police? Why was she warning him of what she was going to
do? That makes no sense at all.

“So we got
in contact with the girl and paid her off. Quite handsomely, too.”

“So she just
wanted money?” I shake my head in disbelief that anyone could be so callous, to
trade all that pain just for money.

“It appeared
so at the time.”

My eyes fly
to Dad. He’s still not looking at me. He’s staring at a spot on the table that
only he can see.

“What does
that mean?” My knee is bouncing and I’m chewing on the inside of my cheek,
restraining my every unbearable urge to get up and pound into Dad.

“Oscar
denied even being sexually active with her, until she wound up pregnant. That’s
when she came back for money.”

“I don’t
believe a sixteen- or seventeen-year-old girl would have the intelligence to
scheme something like that,” I say. Truly, this shit is unbelievable.

“Her parents
found out about the baby. When she told them what happened, the father came to
the house ready to turn Oscar in. I bought their silence.”

“Just like
that?” I ask shaking my head.

“Yes, just
like that.”

“But that
could’ve been just a stupid decision not use a condom while they were having
sex. That didn’t prove that Oscar raped her,” I say trying against my own
better judgment to find justification for something that had none. Something
convinced my parents that the girl’s accusations were true, and I need to know
what that was.

“You’re
right, it doesn’t. But when I sat down with Oscar and talked to him about it,
he admitted he’d lied to me and that they did have sex. And that the sex was
very rough and that the girl liked to be smacked around.”

My mind is
going around and around in confusion. None of this makes any sense.

“How did I
not know about this?” My hands go up in exasperation.

“Because you
were away at college, and we protected you. We didn’t want you involved in
something so…” he stops talking to think of an appropriate word.
“Inconsequential.”

“A girl
claiming she’s raped is not something that should be bought off or swept under
the rug. Your son was accused of something not only illegal, but also
disgusting and immoral. And you totally disregarded it?”

Dad looks
around the room, still not meeting my angry glare.

Shit.

There’s
more.

I can tell
by his body language that it’s more than just this one event.

“What else?”
I ask coldly.

“It sort of
happened again in college.”

“
Sort of
?
What does sort of mean?”

“Well, in
his third year of college, I got a call from a police officer who wanted to
meet with me in a public place to talk about Oscar. When we met that day, he
told me that he had taken a report from a girl who wanted to press charges
against Oscar for raping her.

“She said
that they were at a party and Oscar slipped her a date rape drug, that he took
her back to his apartment, raped her, and allowed a friend to rape her. She
said she was in and out of consciousness but remembers Oscar and some other guy
she couldn’t describe. When she woke up, she was lying in an alley, partially
clothed. She went home and showered and a few days later a friend showed her
some photos she’d taken on her phone. There was one of her and Oscar, and it
jogged her memory enough that she remembered part of what happened.

“She went to
the police and the case was being handled by this police officer, Michael I
think his name was. Anyway, the cop recognized Oscar’s surname, knew he came from
money, and basically, for seven figures, the case disappeared.”

What the
fuck did I just hear?

 
Is this
a fucking joke?

 “What
happened to the girl?”

“I never
asked, Dominic. I just said that I never wanted to hear about it again.”

Who are
these people that call themselves my family
?

“Did you ask
Oscar about it?” I ask in total disbelief. Really, I’m astonished.

“I did.” He
nods his head but goes on to say, “And he said she liked it rough, too.”

My mouth
falls open, as Dad swipes at a tear.

“Why did you
protect him?”

“I protected
all of us.”

“No fucking
way. I don’t need protection; I’ve never done anything wrong. Does Mom know?”

Please
say no.

“Of course. Your
mother was the one who told me both times to pay them whatever they were
asking.”

Well this
shit’s just gotten unbelievable.

“How can you
sit there and shed a fucking tear when you knew all along what he was capable
of? You knew what he did to those girls, and you paid them off for silence.” I
stand up and ball my already aching hand into fists. I’m so fucking pissed off,
so tense that I can feel the muscles in my arms vibrating with sheer, fucking fury.

“We did it
to protect you.”

“Bullshit!
You did it to protect
yourselves
. You think that because the name Shriver
is attached to bonds and stocks all over the world that it gives your son the
right to do what he wants with girls? How many has he killed because you were
trying to ‘protect’ us?”

“Son,” he
starts saying.

“Don’t call
me that. I’m no longer related to you. This so-called family is completely
devoid of any sense of decency and I don’t want to be associated with any of you.
How do you aim on fixing
this
one? Because guess what, John? I fully
intend to get up in that witness stand and tell the judge and the jury
everything you just said, along with everything I know about that weak,
pathetic excuse for a son you have. And don’t think I’m doing this for Allyn. I’m
doing this for every victim that he raped and broke for his own demonic
enjoyment before he killed them. And I’m doing this because it’s the right
thing to do – something you’re apparently incapable of.”

“Dominic,
you have to think about what you just said. This will affect you too. Your name
will be tarnished and you’ll be investigated.” He’s beginning to panic now,
because he knows I meant every word.

Are you fucking
kidding me?

The only
word I can really use at this instant is, stunned.

Stunned at
his audacity in asking me to remain quiet.

Stunned at
how he would rather his rapist son go free to harm more innocent women.

Stunned at
how little remorse he’s showing.

But mostly,
stunned that he thinks
I’m
that sort of man.

I may have
my flaws, but I won’t hide behind money in fear of retribution.

“They can
investigate anything they like. I have nothing to hide and nothing to be
ashamed of.”

“Really? You’re
screwing one of your head case patients.”

I can’t help
it. I really can’t. I just do it.

I leap over
the table and land a couple of punches to his face.

“You don’t
talk about her,” I yell as someone pulls me off that useless, lying piece of
garbage that I was once proud to call my father.

“Get the
father out of here,” Sweeney yells at one of the other officers.

I sit back
down and try to stretch my right hand out but wince in pain. Nope, something’s
definitely broken.

“What the
hell happened?” Sweeney asks.

“I found out
my so-called family is based on lies,” I grind out between clenched teeth.

“Does this have
anything to do with your brother?” He sits down.

“Yeah, it does,
and you’ll need to record my statement for evidence.”

A paramedic comes
in to look at my hand, wraps it, and says I’ll need to go to the hospital soon
to have it x-rayed. I choose to fight though the pain and give my statement
first. Sweeney leaves the room and a tall, nondescript man enters.

He
introduces himself as Detective Harrison. Harrison turns to look at the one way
glass and gives a small nod that must be their signal to start recording.

The initial
identification questions give me time to calm down and think about what I need
to tell them.

“Tell me
about Oscar,” Detective Harrison starts.

“I just learned
that this all began when he was seventeen years old.”

And now the
world will know, too.