Damaged (7 page)

Chapter Twelve

I was pulled slowly from the darkness by sensations. Pain first, then thirst and the need to pee. The memories of what caused me to lose consciousness had me jerking my eyes open and searching frantically to figure out where I was. I looked to my left and saw monitors and to my right was my IV stand. Hospital, I thought. But the bed I was in was so nice and the room looked more like a hotel. Something about it seemed familiar but I knew one thing, Brett wasn’t here. This was Jackson’s doing. The expense and opulence was completely his style.

I noticed that there was a call button on the remote next to me. I pressed it and waited. I didn’t have to wait long, the door opened and in walked Jackson. He was dressed as casually as I’d ever seen him (except for when he wasn’t wearing any clothes) in a pair of lounge pants and a t-shirt. His eyes trailed over my body, making sure that everything was in place.

“Hey baby, how are you feeling?” He asked me coming around to take one of my hands.

“I’m OK, I guess.” I said. “Everything hurts.”

“You’ve been out for about 12 hours. I brought in a doctor to check out your arm and check for other broken bones. You’re ribs are bruised and your arm doesn’t require surgery. He put a cast on and it will come off in about 8 weeks. You were lucky. You’re pretty banged up but there isn’t any damage that won’t heal over time.”

“I called you?” I asked him. “I just pressed buttons on my phone hoping to reach someone.”

“Yes. We got lucky. I was so scared when I heard him over the phone. I rounded up as many guys as I could and got over here. He would have killed you, Lily, and if he did I would have killed him.”

“Where is he?” I asked, almost afraid to know the answer. Jackson was a dangerous man to cross and I knew that there was a good chance that the gunshot I think I remember hearing, was aimed at Brett.

“He’s with some of my guys. If it was up to me, he’d be dead and buried, but I knew that you might not want that. If he goes back to jail there’s always going to be a chance that he could get out and come after you. What do you want to do with him?”

I had to think about it. I was grateful to Jackson for not taking the situation into his own hands, but I wasn’t sure I wanted the pressure of deciding what happened to a mans life. Brett didn’t care what happened to me, but I didn’t want to think of Brett as the guy I had killed. I didn’t want to think of him at all. If I let Brett do whatever he wanted, would I regret it? Was I capable of murder?

What would happen if I did have him killed? He’d never come after me again. I’d never have to see him or go to a parole hearing to make sure he was denied. I wouldn’t have to sit through a trial.

“If you don’t kill him, would we take him back to the police?” I asked him wondering what his plan was.

“If you don’t want to kill him, I’ll send him to some guys I know overseas. You’ll never see him again, but he will still be alive. There will always be a remote possibility that he could get away and come back for you. Are you willing to live with that risk?”

Was I willing to risk it? Did I want to go through this again? I didn’t know. I’d always thought that I was incapable of hating someone. I’d proved myself wrong on that one, I hated Brett with every fiber of my being, but could I sentence him to death?

“I don’t know, Jack. I don’t think I want the responsibility of deciding what happens to him. I don’t want to know. I want to forget he ever existed. I want to forget I was ever married.”

“OK, baby. I’ll take care of it.” He kissed my forehead and pressed a button on the IV. “Get some more rest. I’ll be right back to sit with you. When you’re ready we’ll talk about where we want to go from here.”

I closed my eyes and let the pain medicine pull me away from decisions and pain. I’d have to deal with what happened eventually but I didn’t want to think about it today. It hurt too much to think.

The healing process was a long one. Physically it took a couple of months for the aches and pains to ease and my body to heal. I felt so old when my body ached when rain was coming. I knew that was just one of the things that I had to deal with as a result of the beating I took. It was still raw and painful to think about that night, so I tried really hard to block it.

Unfortunately it wasn’t as easy to forget as I’d hoped it would be. Jackson had been great, he’d given me space to heal physically and emotionally. He didn’t push me about our relationship or where we were going. I still hadn’t asked what happened to Brett. I didn’t think I wanted to know. Someday I’d ask him, but for now I wanted to move on.

Chapter Thirteen

I went back to work at the shelter once my bruises healed. I was even more determined than before to help women who were in, or had been in, abusive relationships. I talked a few times to the therapist that worked there. I’m not sure how much talking had helped, but I knew it would be a slow process. Things wouldn’t just immediately snap back into place. I wasn’t the same person I was before the incident with Brett. I wasn’t ever going to be that person again.

I knew that I’d lost that spark and fire I’d had during the trial. I suppose you could say that I was depressed. Everything seemed so dark and serious. Maybe I would never live in that happy care free world again now that I knew what was really out there and what people were capable of doing to each other.

The sadness permeated my world, painting everything in dark shades of gray. I felt like I couldn’t see the world in color anymore. The laughter of children sounded shrill to my ears and the conversations of passersby were all trite. I felt like Ebenezer Scrooge. Bah humbug.

I had a date with Jackson later and I couldn’t seem to work up any excitement for it. Maybe I just needed to end things with him. I’d been thinking a lot over the past few days and this one thought kept popping up. He deserved better than to be with a zombie. He needed someone that would be there for him, that could appreciate him. I was too tired to do anything but go through the motions.

I’ll end it. I decided. I knew that he wouldn’t let go of me without a fight, but I was determined to have my way. I deserved to be alone. I couldn’t bring him down with me. Tonight, I’d let him go, and tomorrow everything would be better. I wouldn’t have the pressure of trying to make him happy or pretend to be happy myself. I wouldn’t have to fake the desire to go out, or to even eat. I never wanted to eat these days.

Without Jackson I could do what I really wanted. I could sit on the couch in my new place and wear the ugliest pajamas I owned. I could drink a bottle of wine and wallow in my misery while watching re-runs. I just needed time to myself. Then I’d be able to find something to be happy about again.

I hoped so, at least.

Chapter Fourteen

It’s a hard thing, learning to love yourself again. I’d been through hell and back over the last year and I was still struggling under the weight I carried daily. I had so much baggage I could open a luggage store. Healing and peace seemed like an impossible goal. There was no light at the end of the tunnel, only endless inky darkness.

I was so pissed at everything. I was mad at Brett for nearly killing me. Some days I wanted to slowly torture him, assuming he was still alive. I didn’t actually know what Jackson did with him. Some days I was consumed with the lack of knowledge and some days I never gave him a thought.

I was pissed at Jackson for letting go so easily. I’d expected him to put up a fight or something but when I told him of my decision he’d just looked at me as if reading my mind, and then he walked away. I hadn’t heard from him in 6 months. My heart was broken. There was a hole in my life and in my being. I hadn’t realized how much he meant to me, and how much I needed him until I told him to get lost. I hated that it was necessary but I couldn’t keep hurting him and asking him to forgive me for being a shell of my former self.

I was pissed at myself most of all. How had I let my life turn into this mess? How had I gone from a normal person with petty, meaningless problems to a train wreck? I was a bomb waiting to explode. I probably spent too much time wallowing and letting myself sink under the weight, but I’d gotten everything I deserved. I’d made this bed and dammit, I was going to lay in it.

I spent my nights staring blankly at the TV or my kindle screen. I’d seen hundreds of movies and TV shows, read a hundred books but I didn’t absorb any of it. I was just going through the motions. I wasn’t living anymore, I was existing. I ate, went to work, went home, ate, then stared at the TV until I fell asleep early in the morning and I woke up screaming as a result of the nightmares that had plagued me since I was attacked the second time. I was haunted by Brett and the last night I saw Jackson. In my dreams Brett came back and killed me while Jackson watched, uncaring.

I walked to work in the misting rain, uncaring that I didn’t have an umbrella. I’d only membered this morning that I’d taken my car to work yesterday but I walked home. By the time I made it to the office my lips were blue and my hair was in wet clumps that dripped water onto the foyer floor. The women clucked their tongues and got me towels and coffee. The women of the shelter were my only comfort in the stream of endless days. They were kind and gentle despite their past experiences. They humbled me and I wanted to help them. They deserved so much better than what they’d been given.

When I finally made it back to my office the voice mail light on my phone was blinking. I listened to the usual messages and I jerked to attention when I heard a woman’s voice telling me that she had a friend who needed help escaping her husband. I called the woman back immediately.

“Hi, This is Lily from the Women’s Center. I just got your voice mail.” I said when she answered.

“Oh! Thank you so much for returning my call so quickly! My best friend Karen is married to a violent man. I’ve been trying to get her to leave him for ages and she finally decided to do it. She’s scared though and doesn’t want to be alone with him when she tells him she is leaving. Do you have someone there that could be there with her to help her get out?”

“I have experience dealing with that kind of situation. I’d be happy to help Karen. If you could give me her phone number I will call her and make arrangements.”

The woman gave me Karen’s phone number and I immediately hung up and dialed Karen’s number. She seemed kind of hesitant at first to confide in a stranger.

“I know that this is uncomfortable for you. I’ve been the one asking for help from a stranger and having to admit the situation I’d gotten myself in. This isn’t your fault. You deserve to live in a peaceful environment. Just give me your address and I will come meet with you right now, if that’s OK.” I didn’t want to give her time to change her mind.

“Uhmm. OK. I guess. Mikey is gone right now. I don’t know when he will be back. I don’t know if I want to tell him I’m leaving. I’m afraid he will freak out.”

“If you want to just pack a bag and then come with me when I get there we can do that. I don’t want to put you in any more danger. We have a place for you here and we can help you get back on your feet and file all the appropriate paper work to make sure he doesn’t come after you.”

“OK. Come right now while he’s gone. Can you do that?” She was sounding more and more nervous by the second. I hung up with her and ran to my car. By the time I got to her apartment twenty minutes had passed since I last spoke to her. I went into the building and frowned. She lived in kind of a sketchy neighborhood. I walked up the flights of stairs and knocked on her door. She immediately opened the door. She was nervous and jittery. Her hands were shaking and her clothes were disheveled like she got dressed in a hurry.

“Are you ready?” I asked her.

“Yes. Let’s go now. I’m worried he’s going to come back and see us. That would be really bad.”

She only had one small back and I picked it up hiding my expression and my thoughts. This poor woman.

We went down the stairs as fast as we could but unfortunately we weren’t fast enough. There was a man on the first landing on his way up and when he saw Karen his expression turned thunderous.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Karen?” He yelled at her blocking our way down the stairs.

“I.. I “ She stuttered, looking at me with wide eyes. “I’m leaving.” She finally said.

“The hell you are! Get your ass back up to the apartment and fix my fucking dinner and maybe we can forget all about this.” His hands were clinched in fists at his sides and his breath was starting to come out in pants. I could tell that he was getting more riled up by the minute, so I tried to diffuse the situation.

“Hi, I’m Lily Wright and I am a counselor. I’m sorry, but Karen has decided that she needs some time to think. I’m taking her with me and if you try to prevent us from leaving I’m going to dial my detective friend I have on speed dial.” I held out my phone to him, showing him that I meant business.

“Fuck the police bitch. We’ve got ‘em all on our payroll. They won’t do shit.”

I was surprised. This man was becoming more and more dangerous by the second. He was a member of a crime family. This was not good. I wish Karen had given me all the details but I knew that she assumed I wouldn’t help her if I knew. There were a lot of people afraid of them or under their thumb. Fortunately for Karen, I wasn’t one of  them. Maybe I should have just walked away and saved myself, but I’d been to hell and back and no mob wanna-be asshole was going to keep me from helping this poor woman.

“The police might not do shit but Jackson Hart sure as hell would. I’ve got his number on speed dial number 2. So get out of the way and let us go.”

He visibly paled at the mention of Jackson. I was really hoping he’d have that reaction. He threatened us some more but the bluster had been knocked right out of him by mentioning Jack. He moved out of the way, glaring, as we walked by him on the way to the door.

“I’m going to get you bitch. You just wait. Jackson Hart can’t protect you from everything.”

Maybe I shouldn’t have told him my name.