Authors: Elizabeth Moynihan
“How did you bump your head, Chloe?” Sergei asked softly, his tone steely.
“I fell.”
“I know you
fell
, Chloe, I want to know how you fell,”
Chloe gave a little shrug, her eyes leaving his to suddenly study the ceiling, “I don’t know. I don’t remember,” she finally answered weakly.
“Don’t remember or won’t say? Chloe, did Manning do this to you?” Sergei asked darkly, his patience wearing thin as his desire to confront Chloe’s partner grew.
Chloe’s gaze returned to his abruptly, her eyes wide with fear, her pupils dilated and blown wide, “No, of course not. Why would you even think such a thing? You’ve seen how Andrew treats me,” she said, her voice quivering with emotion; fear the most prevalent.
“Yeah, I’ve seen how Manning treats you, and that’s why I’m asking.
Chloe shook her head vigorously back and forth, trying to ignore the explosions of pain in her head at the movement. “No, Sergei, you’re wrong. You’ve misinterpreted things. Andrew’s a perfectionist and he has a right to expect the same from me. When I screw up, he has a right to get upset with me; it’s understandable, expected even. If I was a better skater, he wouldn’t behave this way,” she explained, her voice rising in pitch as panic began to set in, her hands releasing their hold on the blanket and pushing herself up to a sitting position.
The sudden motion made her sway toward Sergei and he quickly rose, grabbing her by her upper arms to steady her. Chloe’s sudden cry of pain made Sergei release her and she fell back against the pillows, turning on her side to face away from him, wrapping her arms around her knees and curling into as small a ball as her body could make. The hospital gown she wore separated down the back and all Sergei could do was stare at the myriad of colors that scattered over her the pale skin of her narrow back; old and new bruises blending to make an ugly abstract design on the palette of her body.
“Sweet Jesus!” Sergei managed on a strangled gasp, wanting to take Chloe in his arms and tell her everything would be okay, yet afraid to touch her for fear of hurting her more. All the rumors he’d heard about Manning’s abusive behavior were obviously true, and yet everyone had turned a deaf ear to them. Apparently Andrew Manning’s father, the most prominent attorney in the state, carried enough weight and power to keep his son’s dirty little secret safe.
Briefly the thought crossed his mind as to how Chloe’s mother couldn’t know of the injuries her daughter had suffered at the hands of her partner and then everything clicked together; Chloe’s mother worked for the partnership that was owned by Andrew’s father. A nice, neat little package to say the least. Sergei wondered how much money the elder Manning had paid Chloe’s mother to keep from pressing charges against his son.
Chloe’s heart wrenching sobbing brought Sergei’s attention back to her and he circled the bed, kneeling on the floor in front of her, resting his forearms on the bed, his chin on his hands. His position put him eye level with Chloe and he called her name softly until she finally returned her watery gaze to his steady one. “Chloe, none of this is your fault,” he began only to stop her with an abrupt shake of his head when she started to object, “Listen to me–this is not your fault! Manning has a problem–more severe than anyone realizes–and he’s obviously not been held responsible for his actions. I somehow have the feeling his father’s known about this and kept it quiet. Am I right?”
Chloe remained motionless, staring into Sergei’s dark eyes, wanting to disappear into their mysterious depths to float and fly and feel no fear or pain; she just knew it would be like soaring through midnight on velvet wings. Sergei asked her the question again, his eyebrows raising slightly in the same silent question.
Chloe’s affirmative nod was barely perceptible but spoke volumes, as if she’d screamed it from the top of a mountain. Yes!
Sergei dropped his head against his folded hands and fought to control the rage that again swept through him at the thought of all Chloe had endured at Andrew’s hands. He’d heard of things like this happening but had never witnessed anything first hand. He prayed to God he never had to be witness to any such thing ever again and wondered how cowardly a person had to be to beat on someone smaller than himself. Granted, he’d threatened to pound his sister more times than he could count, not that he ever really would have.
‘Boys don’t hit girls!’ It was a litany his parents had drilled into him for as long as he could remember. Obviously, Manning’s father didn’t hold the same belief, and any respect Sergei may have had for the elder Manning vanished like the early morning fog.
Chloe’s tentative, gentle touch as she touched Sergei’s wavy hair made him lift his head and brought their eyes together. “I only wanted to skate,” she stated tearfully, her voice, a heartbreaking whisper, her small, white teeth nervously pulled on her lower lip.
Sergei felt like weeping at Chloe’s words. He knew how she felt, recognized the need as being the same as his own; to skate was to live, to live was to skate. With firm resolve, he smiled into her tear-filled eyes and requested, “I’m looking for a partner, Chloe, come skate with me.”
Chloe’s expression went from surprise, to hopeful, to regret within seconds. “You don’t want to skate with me, Sergei. You want a partner who won’t embarrass you; one who knows what they’re doing. I’m obviously not that person,” she answered sadly.
“If I want a partner that requires I put a pink ribbon on her left ankle so she remembers which foot is which, that’s my decision,” he teased lightly, “You do know your right from your left, don’t you?”
A shy smile turned Chloe’s soft lips upward; “Of course I know my right from my left,”
“Well, then, you’ve already saved me the price of the pink ribbon! Skate with me Chloe. Please?” Sergei asked softly, his voice taking on a huskiness she’d never heard before, the sound sending the nerves at the base of her neck tingling, a not unpleasant sensation. His dark eyes beckoned her to accept.
“I don’t know…”
“You don’t have to answer me this minute; think about it. The decision is entirely yours to make and I won’t push you into anything you don’t feel comfortable doing.” Sergei pushed the soft waves of honey and gold from her cheek, a small frown appearing between his eyes at her slight retreat from his touch. “I’ll be back tomorrow and we’ll talk some more. Okay?” he asked casually.
Chloe nodded affirmatively, a small, shy smile reaching her eyes.
“Sleep well, princess,” Sergei urged, running his fingers gently along the top of her hand where it rested on the light blanket, made his way to the door and with a quick, last smile, left her room.
Sergei wasn’t surprised to find his father outside the exam room, waiting patiently, his look one of concern. “How bad is it?” Aleksei asked his son quietly, his shoulders subtly shifting as he awaited his son’s response, already having gained information he wasn’t officially entitled to have. Whoever said it was impossible to finesse information you had no right to know obviously didn’t know Aleksei Rocmanov.
“Her back looks like an ad for an ugly painting. Manning’s been beating the shit out of her and I didn’t do anything to stop him!” Sergei growled, his fists clenching at his sides, the desire to physically thrash the coward nearly overwhelming.
“You didn’t know,” Aleksei reminded his son.
“There have been rumors for months,” Sergei fired back.
“You can’t believe everything you hear?” Aleksei stated calmly.
“I could have asked!”
“Do you honestly think Chloe would have told you the truth? Do you think it’s easy for anyone to admit something like that is happening to them? If they admit there’s a problem then they have to acknowledge responsibility for staying in an unsafe situation. The longer an abusive relationship goes on, the less likely it is the one being abused is going to leave.”
“Who in there right mind willingly stays in an abusive relationship?” Sergei growled, pacing a small path back and forth across the floor like a caged animal.
“People who abuse have more power than you might imagine. Over time they convince the person they’re abusing it’s all their fault for the way they’re being treated; if they were better, smarter, prettier, tried harder, jumped higher, whatever, they wouldn’t be treated this way. After being told you’re ugly, or stupid, or can’t skate over and over, you begin to believe it and suddenly, in a warped fashion, they begin to understand that the abuse is punishment for their failures. They begin to believe it’s justified, even deserved,” Aleksei explained.
“Bull shit,” Sergei shook his head back and forth vigorously, “Chloe would never believe that. She knows what a wonderful skater she is. Hell, she’s a better skater than I am.”
Aleksei ran his hands through his hair, “How long have Manning and Chloe been partners?”
“I’m not sure. About five years, I guess,” Sergei answered with a shrug. “Why?”
“Chloe’s eighteen now. You know how temperamental Dani gets about her looks or her weight or what she’s wearing; Christ, look at what she did to her hair and that was her idea! When was the last time you heard Chloe express a complaint or an opinion to her partner?”
Sergei searched his mind, trying to remember the last time Chloe even uttered a sound when she was with her partner. In fact, the more he thought about it, he couldn’t even remember her lifting her eyes to meet his when he said hello to her when she was with Manning. Sergei’s eyes darkened in pain and sorrow as it suddenly dawned on him that it had to have been at least two years since he’d seen Chloe act like the carefree girl he remembered her to be when she was with her partner. The thought she’d spent the last two years in an abusive partnership made his heart ache and stole his breath away. “Two years,” he whispered, raising tear filled ebony eyes to his father, his breath catching as he struggled to maintain his emotions. “Could this have been going on for two years?”
Aleksei’s broad shoulders lifted in shrug, “I don’t know, Sergei, I hope to God not. But even if it has, there was no way you could have known. Abusers are sly and manipulative and dangerous in more ways than you or I could ever imagine. I can’t imagine Manning’s father didn’t know about this, but considering his high position in the legal field, I can’t imagine it was too tough for him to keep it covered up.”
“Yeah, but it’s out in the open now. Manning’s got questions to answer,” Sergei vowed.
“Not unless Chloe presses charges against him, and in her present state, I don’t see that happening,” Aleksei stated, holding up one hand to stop his son’s impending protest. “Chloe’s on the brink of collapse; pressing her to charge Manning is liable to do her more harm than good. Our first concern should be to see that she’s comfortable and safe. Has she contacted her mother?”
“She doesn’t want to cause her mom problems with the elder Manning. Apparently Mrs. Spenser’s been given a chance to oversee a large merger and if she blows it, she’s out of a job. Chloe insisted I not contact her mother. I’m not sure whether to listen to her or not.”
“I don’t agree with Chloe’s decision, but I understand her motivation behind it. Obviously both Spenser women have lost control to the Manning’s and I won’t add to their dilemma by pressing the issue. For now, Chloe stays with us, it’ll keep Dani occupied so I don’t have to worry about her piercing a body part or coming home with a tattoo.”
Sergei nodded in agreement, a small smile graced his lips as the image of his sister with a tattoo came to mind and he slipped the bag that held his skating gear from his father’s shoulder to his own. “I think that’s a good idea. If anybody can help Chloe find herself again, Dani can,” Sergei said quietly, falling into step with his father as they made their way toward the parking lot.
“So, any word from Whittaker as far as a partner for you?” Aleksei asked his son casually, stepping aside as paramedics arrived and pushed their way through the corridor with another patient.
“I don’t know if he has or not; we never hooked up. Not that it makes a difference; I found a partner myself,” Aleksei stated without hesitation.
Aleksei looked at his son and knew his answer before he asked the question. “Please tell me it’s not Chloe,”
“No can do, Dad,”
“Sergei, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into with Chloe. Not only are you going to be dealing with someone who’s got more baggage than she knows what to do with, but there’s also the added problem of Manning. You can’t believe he’s going to just let her go without a fight; she has information that can damage his reputation and future skating career if she chooses to disclose it,” Aleksei argued, hoping his words would at least make Sergei rethink his decision.
“That’s the operative word, Dad–if. And what if she decides to just pretend this never happened and doesn’t press charges? Does that make what she experienced any less real? Dad, I’ve–we’ve–known Chloe for thirteen years; you don’t turn your back on a friend when they’re backed into a corner. I’m going to help her in any way I can and if that means kicking the crap out of Manning, oh well!”
“Your mother would have a fit if she knew you were talking like this; we didn’t raise you to run toward fights,”
“No you didn’t, but you also taught me to stand up for what I believe in and to face a problem head on. That’s what I intend to do. Chloe can’t stand up to that scumbag, but I sure as hell can! Her days of having to fight alone are done!”