True Control (10 page)

Chapter 25 HIM

I keep my distance. I can hardly look at Jake. I can feel my blood boiling at just the thought of him being here, with her. Alone. Behind my back. I need to take a moment to get over these thoughts. I need to see past this, somehow. “Jake.” I don’t know where to begin.

He does. “I’m sorry, Max. I messed up. I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for keeping anything from you. I…I only wanted to help.” He’s obviously been waiting to say all this, waiting to be alone with me. It’s an avalanche of apologies.

I know he’s sorry. I know he only thought he was helping. I’ve had enough time to think about this. But I still clench my fists and jaw at the reminder of Lucy keeping a secret from me. I let another deep sigh out.

“I know you did.” His look of relief is almost comical. But I’m not letting him off the hook. “But you interfered in my marriage, Jake. I can’t let that stand. I can’t…” I swallow. Anger peaking. Pain plummeting into my stomach. “I know you were trying to help Lucy. But you only confused her more. You added your own confusion over how we were raised…that wouldn’t have helped her to come to terms with me, with us.”

“I know…I know that now.”

“You may not
like
it, brother. But Lucy
is
mine. And I won’t allow you to interfere again.” I feel better talking about a time when Lucy is with me again. I can almost pretend that she’s in our bedroom, crying after a good beating for her secrets. This is one of the thoughts I’ve been able to hold onto the longest, a fantasy that I can imagine even with a room full of people.

Jake’s eyes spark at this, but his voice remains apologetic, “I won’t try again. I…” He shrugs. “I get it…I guess…I talked to Dad.” I nod. “But I already knew what he’d say. The same thing he’s always said…that it was all for our own good. He talked about loving Mom, us. About how I didn’t remember how…how bad she was to us, to herself before him. The same shit you’ve always said.” He shrugs again and takes a seat. I stay standing, putting my hands in my pockets, fists still. “But then I talked to Mom.”

I’m surprised. He’s always acted so protective of her. We both have. Not wanting to confront her about the past. I never thought he’d talk to her about his feelings over how Dad was with us, with her.

“She said all the same things. She cried.” He runs his hands through his waves, just like mine, “She said she knew that I struggled more than you with how Dad was. But she hoped that I’d figure it out for myself. That tough love is still love. That’s how she put it. The man would slap her right in front of us, and she loved him. He’d treat her like a child, sending her to their room…everything he did.” He looks accusingly at me. “But she loved him. She said she’s grateful that he came along. That she never knew what love and security was before him.”

I want to hit him for making Mom cry, for making her explain this to him. For questioning everything, me, Dad, himself. But I’m fascinated too. I’ve never had the courage to talk to her about it. About her abuse or why she stayed with Dad. I know they love each other. But there were times when I wondered...

“She admitted to all the abuse you told me about…I even remembered a little hearing her talk…” His voice cracks at this admission. He’s never really wanted to remember anything. “She apologized to me. Said that without Dad she doesn’t know what she would’ve done…to us, to herself. That she was suicidal back then. Depressed. On and off using drugs and men to forget about the two boys she had at home who needed her.” He looks at me with watery eyes. I didn’t know this. I vaguely remember a lot of “uncles” and “special friends” but nothing specific.

“That’s how she put it. She didn’t hold anything back…maybe she’s too raw over all this to hold anything back.” He takes a deep breath. “But she told me that I need to stop blaming Dad. That she chose to stay. She chose to live by his rules, his discipline. That she’s never regretted the life she has with him. And he’s never really hurt her…not really. Just like he never really hurt us.” He stands up to be inches from me. “And I know that much is true…I’m a stronger person because of Dad. Because of the love I had from Mom. And I know you protected me when I was a kid, Max. I’ll do the same for you. Anything I can do to help, I will.”

He waits for me to respond, but I only look at him. I can’t bring myself to forgive him.

“I’m sorry, Max. I won’t interfere again. It’s your business. I know you wouldn’t ever really hurt Lucy. You love her. And she loves you.”

I have to swallow to stop the tears I feel burning behind my lids. I can’t say anything. I don’t want to lose it one way or another. I don’t trust that I’ll be able to stop myself from either beating the shit out of him or breaking down into a blubbering idiot. I can’t do either right now. I have to keep my shit together.

Jake finally gets that I won’t respond to him. He takes a step towards the door only adding, “Lucy never would’ve left you. I know that now.” I only nod.

I finally sit when he walks down the hall to the front door.

I can’t focus my thoughts for a moment. Too many conflicting emotions. Anger being top on the list. I imagine beating the crap out of Jake. My rage over his betrayal almost suffocates me. I can’t breathe for a moment. I have to stand, to pace.

I take my time fantasizing about having Lucy here now. What I would do to her for her betrayals. I smile at the image of her on her knees, begging me with tears. But the beating I gave her once would be nothing in comparison to this amount of rage. It wouldn’t just be once. I’d have her black and blue for weeks for what she’s done.

I stop pacing though. It’s no use to imagine. She’s not here. God help me, she may never be here again.

This thought is more than I can take. With one small shudder, every tear I’ve held back is shaken loose. I stand in the cold with my hands at my sides, open, my head back, the tears not stopping. I can’t control the emptiness I feel.

I’d give anything to be able to hold onto the rage. To not feel this helplessness. But it’s all I have. I’m lost without her.

Chapter 25 HER

Even driving like a madwoman, it’s taken a long time to get back. My limbs are stiff and heavy. My lids are hard to keep up. But there’s my home. My city. My skyline.

The drive has given me time to think. Sort of. My mind keeps fragmenting.

Pictures pop of Max. Me. Us. But I can’t put them in order. Today, tomorrow, yesterday, last week?

The fragment that won’t stop flying across the windshield, my wicked witch on a broomstick…I’ll get you and your snarling dog too…

Max’s look of anger. That night. His angriest face. The night I always go back to.

It’s filled my nightmares, my dreams, my days.

All because a man I barely knew touched my hand. That sparked Max’s rage. A rule broken. And I had to pay the price for that.

Even in a cage. I woke with that night in my head. Even with Ben’s fists on me. I pictured that face.

I haven’t admitted this to myself…until I was free, there was no point in thinking about…

Max. My beautiful angry husband.

How can I face you now?!

I didn’t let this happen…not like that night…I could’ve done something to stop Rich that night…should’ve done something…

But this…this is so much more, so much worse…Ben beat me, fucked me. Max will know this. I laugh. Everyone will know this. Just look at me…but Max won’t be able to deal with this…he won’t be able to control his anger...he won’t be able to look at me the same way.

He’s a man who has to be in control. I’ve known this…almost since the beginning. I’ve given him everything…but now. Now.

I have to stop thinking for a minute, concentrate on the sound of the road, the lights and signs passing me. I have to blink away tears and swallow more air.

Now. I’ll never be the same again. Not to Max. Not to myself.

And…the part I’ve only let myself whisper, trapped in bed next to a monster…

I blame him. I blame Max.

I blame myself.

I blame Ben of course…but I ran
him
over. I feel a strange smile on my lips at this thought. I touch my lips and it goes away.

I’m free. And trapped in a nightmare still.

I blink through the tears, not stopping them, just need to see dammit.

A homeless man crosses out of nowhere in front of me. I have to slam on the brakes to avoid him. My forearms hitting against the steering wheel. I don’t feel the pain shooting up my arms. He curses at me, but keeps shuffling across the headlights with his cart of belongings.

I laugh. An awful sound. Harsh. High. Ugly. Glass breaking in my throat laugh. I don’t move. I just lower my head onto the steering wheel. And I cry. I’m almost home and I cry finally.

I shake, cry, and sob. God…another song of misery of crazy fucked up crazy ass shit goddamn and fuck! More laughing.

But that helped. I look around again. Not a good place to stop. Lakeshore Drive. I can see a cop moving in my direction already. Even this late at night, it’s still the tourist area.

I drive slowly away, not stopping when he waves me down. I have to get home. My husband is waiting for me. God, help me…

Chapter 26 HIM

“Max!” Dad is yelling from the guest room. “Max! Get in here!” I’ve only just thrown my running shoes into the closet.

Since the crowd of reporters has been staying longer again, I’ve been running in the middle of the night. There’s only a small group now that waits for me to return before giving up for good for the night. But avoiding the vultures isn’t the real reason. I can’t sleep and it’s an excuse to work out my anger. I felt empty after crying, but it wasn’t enough to exhaust me. Wasn’t enough to stop my thoughts.

I throw my shirt into the closet too and start to walk out my room. But the phone is ringing. Shit. I stop and grab the bedside phone. It’s the lobby. “Mr. Traeger? I…I think…you should come down here, Sir. It’s your wife…”

Dad is in my doorway. “The news! …I think Lucy’s downstairs!”

My mind blanks for a second, piecing together what he means, what the call meant.

I don’t bother with a shirt or shoes. I run out of the apartment. Dad’s right behind me in his pajamas.

The elevator takes too long. We stare with open mouths at each other, both breathing hard, not speaking, frowning.

I take everything in in one blink. A small crowd of lights and cameras in the lobby. In the middle is my Lucy. Or what looks like my Lucy. She’s trying to move through them towards the elevator, but I can see they’re blocking the way. Asking their questions, pushing their mikes, cameras at her. Her hands are up and she looks frightened.

All my anger, fear, and pain tears out of me. I shove two cameras out of the way and punch another guy too close to her. She falls into my arms. Her lips barely breathing my name.

My Lucy.

Chapter 26 HER

I don’t need to open my eyes to know that I’m in a hospital room. The smell. The sounds. Beeps, hisses, muffled voices and footsteps, metal on metal clangs in a distance.

Or am I back in the cage?

I want to drift back to sleep. I don’t want to open my eyes. I don’t want to see his face. Max. Ben.

A single tear escapes my left eye, but I don’t feel it until it drops onto my shoulder.

I drift. Thankfully, I drift.

Chapter 27 HIM

“She has a cracked rib, sprained wrist, fractured cheek, ruptured ear drum and a lot of cuts and bruises. She still has a low temp from an infection probably from the dog bites on her arm. She was severely dehydrated and in shock when I brought her in last night.” It’s barely 9:00 a.m., but time has slowed down. To the pace of doctors and nurses, coming and going. Police coming and going.

And this is about the fifth time I’ve had to say all this. To spell out the injuries my wife has. From another man.

Laura has her hand to her mouth. Tears in her eyes. She saw the early morning news. She’s been calling me ever since. The reporters have swarmed the hospital, but we’re able to keep Lucy’s room private for now. I told Laura how to get up here without anyone noticing.

Dad, Mom, Liz, Paul, Jake, PJ…all are waiting in the family waiting room down the hall. So far, Lucy’s been sleeping. She has tubes and monitors all over her. My Lucy.

“Can I see her?”

“Sure. But she hasn’t been awake yet…”

“Of course.” I push the door open to Lucy’s room and let Laura go in alone. I can see Lucy’s still body under the covers. Propped up on the pillows. Her face pale, bruises vivid.

I walk away before the door closes.

In the waiting room, all eyes turn to me. I only shake my head.

No one’s talked to her. She passed out in my arms in the lobby and didn’t regain consciousness even when the ambulance came. The doctors said she was in shock.

So was I!

She was a mess. Bruised, bleeding, swollen. Naked. Fucking naked under that dirty sweatshirt. With a fucking dog collar on. Cuts up and down her legs, stomach, tits. Blood between her legs. My Lucy.

I didn’t have to tell Dad what I wanted. He was on the phone arranging everything before I even had her on the bed. The rushed ambulance, private room for exam and care. Security against reporters and…whatever.

Now all I can do is wait. For her to open her eyes again. My Lucy.

And for the police to tell me who did this to her…so I can kill them.