Bent not Broken (104 page)

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Authors: Lisa de Jong

BOOK: Bent not Broken
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Jess

As I jog down our street, I see Gabe getting in his truck to leave. My breathing is fast and ragged because I’m pissed off that he keeps putting his job before me. I understand that he’s still new and he’s learning, but he picks up every extra shift that he can. This is exactly what my dad did while I was growing up, although he did it as a way of burying his feelings and keeping himself busy after my mom died. My insecurities are telling me Gabe would rather be at work than spend time with me.

Running down Main Street past the little Italian restaurant we went to, I plan to run another mile down to Washington Park. This park holds many fond memories for me, and it’s absolutely beautiful this time of year. There is a small creek that winds through the park with a paved running path that follows the banks of the creek. I turn up the volume on my iPhone music just slightly as I let the burn of my lungs wash away the anger that I had when Gabe left me at the house.

Running faster than I normally do, I push myself harder so that I can get a good workout, but also, to get home quickly. My legs are stiffening a bit from starting out so hard. I make it down Main Street and into the park entrance in a little less than twelve minutes; that’s fast for me. I’m pleasantly surprised and happy with my time.

The park is absolutely stunning. There are spring flowers and cattails growing around the banks of the creek. With a light breeze, you can smell the fragrance from the flowers. It’s almost a citrusy smell, very calming. The grass is bright green and has been recently cut, and the trees are mature with full, large leaves. I notice several other runners coming out of the park in the direction that I’m heading; we wave as we pass each other.

The path curves around the creek and is lined by large oak trees with branches that reach out over the path. The setting sun behind the trees makes the path a bit darker than it actually is this time of day. It’s a gorgeous late spring evening. My earphones are plugged into my iPhone, and when Pink comes on, I turn it up just a bit more. Taking my eyes off the path to look at my phone, I feel myself falling to the ground.

My face hits the grass hard, and I can see my phone slide across the ground and into the tall grass that lines the edge of the creek.
Shit
. Rolling over to see what has knocked me over, or what I tripped over, I see a fist coming straight at my face. Trying to block the fist, I’m too late, feeling the excruciating blow to the side of my head. Hearing myself gasp, I see white stars before everything goes black.

****

Beep… Beep… Beep…

Hearing the beeping of machines, I can feel the heaviness of my eyes. Struggling to open them, I can see the darkness through the blinds covering the only window in the small room. Slowly lifting my head, I am overcome with nausea, and I can tell that I have been medicated.

I have the worst headache I’ve ever had, and with each beat of my heart, I can feel my head pound. Raising my arm to feel my face, I can feel the slight pull of the IV that is placed in my hand. I can hear hushed voices, one of them Gabe’s, coming from just outside my room. I need to find the call button, knowing there is one here somewhere. I’ve never been hospitalized before, but I spent a good portion of my toddler years lying in a hospital bed with my mom and remember her pushing that button when she needed a nurse.

Trying to sit up, every muscle in my body aches. What the hell happened to me? I feel like I’ve been hit by a car. Lying back down, I close my eyes, trying to remember anything. I remember running, and falling, and that’s where my memory stops.

Hearing the quiet squeak of my door, I slowly open my eyes and turn my head towards the door. Gabe walks in, making eye contact with me. Rushing to the bed, he presses a kiss to my forehead before he sits on the edge of the bed and holds my hand.

“When did you wake up?” he whispers, pulling my hand to his lips and kissing my knuckles gently. My mouth is so dry when I try to speak that nothing comes out. Closing my mouth, I swallow a couple of times, and I’m able to squeak out a few words with my voice breaking.

“Just a minute ago. Why am I here? What happened?” He squeezes my hand, but hesitates to say anything.

“You’re okay, Jess. You’re going to be okay,” he says, his eyes bloodshot and full of unshed tears, sounding more like he’s convincing himself. I haven’t seen him cry since he was eight years old and broke his arm after he fell off his bike. He is the strongest person physically and emotionally that I know.

“Why are you crying?” I ask him. Without answering, he stands up and leans over me, pressing a gentle kiss to lips. Dropping my hand, he reaches his arms underneath my shoulders, pulling me into a hug, his shoulders shaking gently as he squeezes me a bit harder. Reaching my arms up and around his broad shoulders, I squeeze him back as best I can. I’m weak, and I don’t have the strength to squeeze him harder.

“What happened?” I ask him again.

Pulling back from me, he kisses my forehead again and then my cheek. Running his thumb over my left cheekbone, I feel pain and the pressure, even though his touch is gentle and caring.

“I have to go tell the doctor that you’re awake. I’ll be right back, okay?”

I nod at him in acknowledgement. Turning to walk away, I notice now that he’s wearing his work t-shirt that has “G. Garcia” written across his right chest and on the back it reads “Santa Ruiz Fire Department.” He must have come straight from work. As I still try to piece together what happened and what day it is and what time it is, I hear my door open again. In walk a doctor and a nurse with Gabe and my dad standing behind them.

“Ms. Harper,” the doctor says. “I’m Doctor Lefson. I’m glad to see you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

Shrugging, I look back and forth between him, the nurse, and Gabe.

“This is Jennifer, your nurse. Mr. Garcia, Mr. Harper, we’ll need you to step outside while we talk to Ms. Harper,” he instructs, nodding at the door.

“No, he can stay.” I reach my hand to Gabe. He looks to the doctor for approval before moving over to the side of the bed and pulling my right hand in between both of his. My dad turns and quietly leaves the room. “We’re going to check your vitals and get some blood work first, but we need to talk to you about what you remember.”

“I don’t know why I’m here or what happened,” I say. “I don’t remember anything.” He lowers his eyes, looking to Gabe. Dr. Lefson moves towards me and pulls his stethoscope off of his neck, setting it at the foot of my bed.

The silence in the room is deafening, and Gabe nervously rubs my hand between both of his. “Will someone please tell me why the fuck I’m here?” Hot tears sting my eyes and Dr. Lefson casually sits his right leg on the free space at the end of the bed, looking at me cautiously.

“Jessica, this evening you went running and you were attacked. Upon arrival, you were unconscious, so we performed a CT scan, which showed no internal bleeding or broken bones.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. The way everyone has been avoiding my question, I thought maybe I was dying. “Well, that’s good, right?”

“You have swelling and bruising to your face and eyes, but it appears most of your physical injuries are minor. However, we need your consent to perform an additional examination.” Dr. Lefson’s voice is soft and quiet. Gabe holds my hand tightly offering little reassuring squeezes. “When you were brought in, you were unclothed from the waist down. We have reason to believe you may have been sexually assaulted.”

A heat washes over me like I’ve never felt. My ears burn and my throat constricts.

“We’d like to further examine you and check for additional injuries or evidence.” I can’t think. I can’t feel. I just nod my head in approval.

“Okay, Jenny and my colleague, Dr. Jordan, will perform the examination. We will need you to sign some paperwork allowing us to collect evidence and take pictures if needed. It will be important and needed for prosecution.” He’s so fucking robotic with his words. Like this is shit he says every day. “The exam is very thorough, and can take a couple of hours. Is there someone else,” he looks at Gabe and then back to me, “that you’d like to have here with you?”

Shaking my head no to him, I squeeze Gabe’s hand.

“I need to do this alone,” I whisper and look up at Gabe. His eyes are still full of unshed tears, and he doesn’t immediately move. Squeezing my hand one last time, he releases my hand and walks to the door, pausing before he opens it and then exits.

“Dr. Jordan will be in shortly. Jenny has all the paperwork and will walk through everything with you.” He nods, grabbing his stethoscope and leaves through the same door Gabe just did. For the next two hours, I was swabbed in multiple places, had my fingernails scraped and cut, and had my blood drawn. I waited for them to finish the exam and confirm what my body already knew.

I was given multiple antibiotics and an emergency contraceptive pill since I had missed my birth control pills. The last few hours were like an out of body experience for me. Inside, I wanted to cry, to hurt, but nothing came. After taking their pictures and bags of evidence, I’m finally alone.

Curling into a ball, I lie in this cool hospital room and try to feel something: hate, anger, sadness, but all I am is numb. I hear the door to my room open and the quiet footsteps stop near the edge of my bed. I know it’s him. I don’t need to see him, or hear him. I have always been able to feel his presence.

“Jess?” he asks quietly.

“Go away.” My voice is flat, emotionless.

“No. I need to be here with you.”

“Please, leave.”

“Don’t push me away, please. I love you,” he pleads with me.

“I know you do. I just need some time.” My voice breaks, and finally the tears come. I can’t fight them, and they roll down my cheeks as sobs escape me. The bed shifts and I feel him slide in behind me, his large arms pulling me gently against the front of him. He’s curled around me, spooning me and holding me so tightly, my ribs hurt with the pressure from his arms, but having him next to me is the most comforting feeling in the world.

“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.

Chapter 18

Gabe

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 stoically 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 a 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.

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