True Control (13 page)

Chapter 31 HIM

“I wasn’t sure what all to bring, so I grabbed a few things just in case.” Mom hands me a small bag filled with Lucy’s stuff. I’d asked her to pick up some clothes since the doctor said Lucy will be released this morning. I glance down and see sunglasses on top. A good idea.

I’m pretty sure our building is still a zoo of reporters. I’ve seen Eve and Killaney on the news giving reports. I’ve seen coverage of the house in Michigan. I’ve avoided seeing too much of that. I don’t need details in my head to go along with the rage I still feel.

The reporters will go away soon, but they haven’t been able to get near Lucy since she stumbled into the lobby. They want a statement, the details of her horror story. Not gonna happen.

Mom follows me back into Lucy’s room. Liz sits on the bed and nods towards the bathroom. “She’s changing.” I raise an eyebrow to this. She didn’t have anything but that sweatshirt and the police took that as evidence.  “I got her something to wear from the gift shop downstairs…”

I only nod. She should’ve asked me. Lucy opens the door and I frown. She’s wearing an oversized hoody and sweatpants with flip flops. I let it go for now though. She tries to smile at all of us.

“I was finally able to brush my teeth!” Liz and Mom give a small laugh to this, but I can see the pain on Lucy’s face.

“You sure you don’t want a wheelchair for getting out of here, baby?”

“I’m sure. Thanks.” She looks at the bag I’m holding. I pull out the sunglasses and she smiles and says again in her small voice, “Thanks.”

She moves slowly with the rest of us walking near. The two security guards meet us at the elevator. Lucy only frowns at them, but doesn’t say anything.

…..

The mob around the building is as bad I thought it would be. The two guards come in handy, clearing a path for Lucy, getting her safely into the elevator without contact with anyone. Jeff helps too. The guards stay outside our door, but he follows us in.

Killaney already told me that the sad truth about stories like ours is the repeat attacks or attempts. That some freak out there gets it in their head that they know Lucy from the news and would want to get close to her. Not gonna happen.

Lucy won’t be without security ever again. I arranged with Jeff to hire a group of his ex-cop friends, as security and additional drivers. No one’s going to get close to my Lucy unless I say they can.

Lucy stands around the living room, just taking everything in. Mom has the place clean and put together. I try to see what Lucy’s seeing. Her eyes are filled with tears, but she doesn’t move.

“Why don’t you lie down, baby?”

“No. I’m going to take a shower…” She moves quietly towards the bedroom and shuts the door.

“How bout I make us all something to eat for lunch?” Mom is already heading to the kitchen.

But Paul stops her, “Why don’t we four go out and bring something back for the kids?” He smiles sadly at me. I nod.

Dad nods and Mom just quietly grabs her purse. Liz is upset though, “I think we should all be here…just in case.”

She hasn’t spoken to me about her accusations. We haven’t talked about my spanking Lucy or telling her to mind her own business. I know she’s still upset. I don’t say anything. She’s Paul’s wife. Let him handle her. I nod to Jeff and he heads out the door.

Then I turn to follow Lucy into the bedroom. I hear everybody else walk down the hall and close the door. Good.

I didn’t want to be rude, but I’ve had enough of people around. I’m sure Lucy has too. I need some time with my wife. Alone. To straighten her out.

The bathroom door is closed. She knows better. Maybe she closed it because our parents are here? But in the back of mind…she’s been pushing me. Pushing her limits. Why? On purpose or because she’s in this strange shocked-state still?

If it’s on purpose, is it because she can get away with it? Or
thinks
she can anyway? She thinks I won’t do something because her parents are here or because she’s hurt? Because she wants to see how much I’ll let her get away with now? Because she
wants
me to be angry with her? Because
she’s
angry and acting out?

I clench my fists tighter.

If it’s this shocked blank state of mind, how do I get her out of it? Will she come out of it on her own, with time and patience?

Fuck. I don’t know what’s going on in her head. I’ve always been able to tell exactly what Lucy’s thinking. She’s always been so expressive and open to me.

I turn the knob and it’s locked. I can hear the shower running. I don’t pause. I’ve been too on edge, restraining myself for too long. I bust the door open in one strong punch with my shoulder.

Lucy screams and stands. She wasn’t in the shower yet, just sitting next to the tub. And she was crying.

“You know better than to lock this door, little girl.”

She doesn’t move or speak. Her face moves quickly from fear and guilt to freeze into that same blank look she’s been wearing. Her eyes still red from crying, but no tears now.

“Answer me, Lucy.”

Her breathing labors, her whole body shaking with the effort to breathe and swallow. When she finally speaks, it’s a tiny sound, but it echoes in my head, “Please…get out.”

It takes me a second to realize what she’s said. It halts me for a moment, staring at her. Taking in her blank look, her hard breathing, her shaking body. Her broken body and face.

Fuck. I can’t. I can’t do this. Not now.

But I take a step towards her anyway. I’m running on emotions and instinct. My brain is telling me to turn away and give her space, but my heart won’t listen. My body won’t listen.

She takes a step back and stops at the tub’s edge. But she meets my eyes. She crosses her arms and tries to look strong. But she’s still blank. Her eyes are blank.

“What did you say to me?” I put everything into this simple question. All my anger, my fear, my pain. I tremble with each word. My voice bounces off the marble, hurting my own ears. I didn’t yell, but it fills the room.

And something flashes in her eyes. Something like my Lucy. A hint that she’s still in there somewhere. She lowers her eyes, but keeps her arms crossed.

“I’m sorry…can I have some privacy? I don’t want you to see me…” A blank tone. To match her blank eyes, turned back up to meet mine again.

“Keep the door open.” I turn and leave. But I only sit on the bed, rubbing my hands through my hair.

Fuck!

Chapter 31 HER

I have an entourage. That’s what it feels like. A full brigade of people. Mom, Dad, Ron, Alex. Max. And his henchmen. I didn’t expect to see bodyguards. Or Jeff.

I listen to the sounds around me. Mom keeps trying to get me to talk, but I can’t. I’m numb. I only smile slightly at her. Please, shut up, Mom. When we get to our building, I’m grateful for the bodyguards. They keep the reporters and cameras out of my way.

Thank God. I didn’t even think about them being here.

When I got here in the middle of the night…it seems a dream, a nightmare…I hardly remember anything. The lights, the questions, the people pushing and pulling. And then Max. His strong arms, his shocked face.

Today, the people are kept back. I can breathe. No swarm.

And I’m almost happy. Numb and relieved.

Until we get inside. The two bodyguards stay outside the door. Are you kidding me…are they here to keep me in?! What do they need to keep out? I killed him.

I shudder thinking of this. Mom is oblivious. She’s trying to touch me and I keep moving away, further into the apartment.

But I can’t help thinking…nothing’s changed, but everything’s changed!

I look around and I can tell that it’s been cleaned and straightened. Probably Alex. But it no longer feels safe. No longer feels like home.

I head into the bedroom, closing the door against all the people. My family. My husband. I don’t want to be near any of them right now.

I want to break down. I want to have a breakdown, quietly, by myself.

I close the bathroom door and without thinking, lock it. But I keep my hand on the door. Max won’t like this if he finds out. I hesitate, should I unlock it?

No. I need to be alone. He can wait to say whatever he wants to say to me. He’s been trying to be alone with me, to talk to me. I don’t know what I should say, what I want to say. I’m too tired to form anything coherent right now.

I turn on the shower. I really need one. I start to take off the bandages and wraps. I stop when I take off the first bandage on my left arm. Bitch’s teeth marks are inflamed, white and red, puffy and sore.

I have to sit down. No tears fall, but I just stare at my arm through a watery film. I’ll always remember this. I’ll never be able to put it completely behind me, because I’ll always see these scars and I’ll always remember the feeling of her mouth cracking on the skillet. The feel of Ben on me. I may someday get over it, but I’ll never completely forget.

I hear the doorknob turn and wait for Max to demand that I open the door. But I jump up and scream when he bangs in. He’s furious. But he stops. Looking at me. I know what he sees. I’m broken, not his wife.

I almost respond automatically to angry voice. But my brain and heart are at war. Brain wins; I ask him to leave. I know I’m in trouble, but I can’t stop my brain train on its tracks to self-destruction now. And amazingly, he leaves.

I start to shake and cry. I almost wanted him to hit me. I’m not sure I could hurt any more than I do right now. But he only walked away… I was right. He doesn’t feel the same about me. He only sees a broken girl. He knows I’m not his anymore…that I can’t be.

I said I didn’t want him to see me and that’s true. I don’t think I can stand naked in front of him, not with all this. I look at my arm again and rip off the rest of the bandages. Up and down my arm are the same red angry teeth scratches and tears. My right wrist is looking less swollen, but it’s almost black with bruises. I yank off the hoodie and sweatpants. I tear off the wrap around my ribs. I’m black and blue all over.

I stare at myself in the mirror. I don’t know this girl. She’s not me. I belong to Max. She doesn’t.

It takes me a long time to pull my eyes away and step into the shower. I don’t move under the water. Just let it run its course over me. When it starts to cool down, I finally wash myself. This doesn’t give me any relief, but I do feel better. Washing away the final remnants of Ben and Bitch.

I take my time drying off. I have to be gentle. I put the wrap around my ribs and wrist back on. My robe isn’t in here. So I put the hoodie and sweatpants back on too.

I stop though, seeing the candle on a side table. The same candle I stared at for ten days. I watch my hands pick it up and throw it into the trash. I don’t shed a tear, but I can feel my heart tearing.

Max looks up when I walk quietly out of the bathroom. He looks like he’s been crying. I want to put my arms around him, tell him it’ll be okay. I want his arms around me, telling me the same.

But we only stare at each other. Finally, his eyes narrow, “You’re not wearing that.”

I look down at myself. The clothes hang on me and the sweatshirt rubs my arm. I don’t say anything, just walk over to the closet and open the door to see what I can put on. I pull a long skirt and long sleeve t-shirt and walk back to the bathroom to change. I leave the door open though.

When I come back out, Max isn’t sitting on the bed anymore. But he returns quickly with the bag from the hospital. He pulls out gauze and bandages. “I’ll help you put these on.”

I only take them quietly, “No…I can do it...thank you.” He can’t see me. I quickly go back into the bathroom and cover my left arm with multiple strips of bandages. The mummy again. The rest of the cuts I think are okay to leave alone. The doctor only gave me instructions for caring for the bite marks and cracked bones.

I avoid looking into my eyes. I know my face is a mess. My left eye feels like it’s swimming and my right ear feels like it’s filled with cotton. I don’t need to see myself anymore.

Max hasn’t left the bedroom. I guess he’s ready to talk. I just wait.

“Come here.” Max has his stern look. The warning look. His voice the beautiful rich deep one I love. I respond without thinking about it. I stand in front of him, my head down, wet hair cooling my face, but my eyes on his. “We need to talk.” I nod slightly. “
I
need to talk and
you
need to listen.”

He hasn’t touched me. I haven’t had a physical connection with him in how long? Too long… But I don’t reach for him. I can’t. I couldn’t take his rejection.

“You’re pushing my limits, Lucy.” His voice takes on the edgier, angrier tone. “Why?”

I open my mouth, but I can’t think of what to say to him. How to explain everything in my head. I’m too afraid that he’ll say out loud that he can’t love me the same. I only close my mouth and shake my head.

“Answer me, little girl.”

I still only shake my head. Two trains on a headlong collision course…touch me, hit me…stop, leave me alone. He doesn’t do anything.

He sighs and puts his hands on his knees. “While you’re healing, I won’t punish you.” I knew he didn’t see me the same. “But that doesn’t mean that I’m not keeping an eye on you. You’ll get the rest you need. But you’ll keep track of the rules you’ve broken.” His look darkens even more, so familiar that I want to cry and beg him to make me his again. “What rules did you break already today, little girl?”

I shake my head, but my voice is automatic. The well-trained puppy in me, I guess. “I didn’t dress like you like. And I locked the door.”

“Good. Get your journal and write those down.” I don’t move. I wait for him to get up, but he doesn’t move either. “Now!” I jump at the roar and move towards my nightstand. I keep my running log in the drawer.

Opening the journal, I look at my handwriting, the numbers and my eyes blur. “I ran.”

Behind me, his voice sounds startled, “What?”

“I ran….I ran fast…because you made me run…all these hours…” I hadn’t thought of this before. I heard his voice in my head telling me to run. I heard his voice in the woods. I heard his voice above the sound of Bitch behind me.

But seeing the times and distances I recorded for him, I know that I wouldn’t have been able to run that fast, I wouldn’t have gotten away…if it weren’t for training to run with Max. If he hadn’t ordered me to start training all those months ago. “I got away from Ben and Bitch…”

“Don’t say those names again, Lucy.” And he gets up and walks out.

I’m left alone. With only my tears and thoughts finally.

I got away because of you, Max. You stayed in my head. Your voice telling me what do, how to survive, how to get home to you. I ran because I could, because of you. And now I’ve lost you anyway.

But I don’t say any of this. I don’t follow him. I only sit down and right the rules on a clean sheet of paper. I ignore the pain in my wrist.

Somewhere…deep…I’m starting to feel something again though.

I blame Max, myself. But without him…I wouldn’t have survived…wouldn’t have escaped. I wouldn’t be able to sit here calmly writing after everything that happened.

Max is my stability. My life. I long for his touch…I don’t care if it’s rough or tender…I am his.

But I know that he doesn’t feel the same…he probably never will.

One tear plops on the page and bleeds the ink. Will he ever see me the same way again?