Unchained Memories

by Karen D. Badger

  “But you didn’t.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  Art took a deep breath. “Tell me to mind my own business if you want, but that son of a bitch you were married to beat you, didn’t he?”

  Billie made eye contact with him. “More times than I can count.”

  “You want to talk about it?”

  “Those pictures you saw—the ones Cat was so upset over—were taken several years ago by my ex-husband. He had just beaten me for asking for a divorce. The other woman in the picture was some whore he hired to do just what the pictures accomplished with Cat. They contaminated the minds of the people I love.”

  “I don’t understand,” Art said.

  Billie stopped pacing and walked back to her chair. She took her coffee from Art’s desk and savored the rich, dark liquid before returning to the discussion at hand. “My parents were still alive when I came out to Brian. They had no idea about my sexual orientation, and I didn’t want them to know. I made the fatal mistake of begging Brian not to tell them. Knowing he was about to lose me and Seth, he beat me senseless then staged those photographs to use against me. To force me to stay with him. He lost leverage a year later when my parents died in a car accident.”

  “So, Cat somehow found the photographs and assumed they were current. No wonder she was pissed.”

  Billie stared at a spot on the floor in front of her. “Actually, someone sent them to us in the mail. She wouldn’t listen to me. She automatically assumed I was guilty. You both did.”

  Art placed his hand on her shoulder. “You have my deepest apology for that, but even you have to admit the evidence was pretty damning.”

  “On the surface it was, but this is me we’re talking about. You should have trusted me. Cat should have trusted me as well.”

  “So, did she finally listen?”

  Billie’s head bobbed up and down. “Yes, she did.”

  “And?”

  “And things are fine now. She feels awful about accusing me now that she knows the whole story.”

  “Who on earth would have sent the photographs?”

  “Brian, of course. As far as I know, he’s the only one who had them.”

  “Damn.” Art sat on the edge of his desk facing Billie. “How’s Cat feeling about all of this?”

  “Cat’s fine. She’s a little scared, but she’s okay.”

  “How’s Billie?” he asked.

  Tears rolled down her cheeks. “Billie’s not so fine.”

  Art stood and reached out his hand. “Come here,” he said.

  Billie put her coffee on the desk, rose to her feet, and walked into the circle of her friend’s strong arms. He held her close.

  “Let it go,” he said. “Let it out. I’ve got you.”

  After a time, Billie regained control of her emotions and broke free of Art’s embrace. She walked over to the Kleenex box on the credenza and grabbed a handful of tissues to wipe her tears and blow her nose. After regaining her composure, she faced Art.

  “The first thing I did when I got here this morning was go through the McBride file. I read the report and came across the pictures.” She stifled a sob and tried to regain her composure. “When I saw the pictures, I realized they could have just as easily been pictures of Cat.”

  Art crossed his arms in front of him. “As of right now, you’re off the McBride case.”

  Billie’s eyes grew wide. “No. Don’t you dare do that to me!” She grabbed his arm as he tried to walk away from her.

  Art swung back around to face her. “You’re too close to this. You can’t detach yourself from this one. Emotional involvement leads to carelessness. You’re off the case.”

  “I won’t let you do this. My personal experience will help this case. Please don’t do this.”

  “And what will your personal experience do to you and Cat?”

  “If this case adversely affects Cat, or the kids, then I’ll voluntarily pull out. I promise.”

  Art ran his hand through his hair. “This is against my better judgment. I’m warning you, Charland, any indication at all that Cat or the kids are suffering, and I’ll pull you off this case and beat the shit out of you myself. Understand?”

  Billie smiled through her tears and offered her hand to him. “Understood,” she said as her hand was enveloped in his.

  * * *

  Billie returned to her desk and contemplated her conversation with Art. Deep down, she knew he was right about her level of personal involvement in this case. The case photos alone brought back horrible nightmares of her own abuse. Uncontrollable waves of anger and hatred surfaced with each memory. Near the end, she thought about how she voluntarily lent herself to the abuse to prevent Brian from taking his anger out on Seth. The McBride boy wasn’t so lucky. She promised herself she would do everything in her power to see McBride go down for this.

  Where to start? she thought as she planned her research for this case. She decided she needed help to do a search on Roger McBride’s history, so she picked up the phone and called Jimmy in Criminal Law. Jimmy was the firm’s Internet expert, with access to state and national criminal records. In his younger years, he had quite a reputation as a beat cop. Although he moved to a desk job when his age made it difficult to maintain his daily beat, he still had connections all over the city. If there was information to be found, Jimmy would find it.

  “James Callahan,” the voice on the other end of the line said.

  “Jimmy. This is Billie Charland.”

  “Hey there, missy. What can I do for you?”

  “I’ve got a challenge for you. I need a background check on one Roger McBride, including the details on any criminal activities he may have been involved in over the past, say… ten years.”

  “Is he a local fellow?”

  “Yes.”

  “Piece of cake. I’ll have the information for you lickity-split.”

  “Thanks. I knew I could count on you.”

  “Anytime. Say hello to the missus for me, would you?”

  “I sure will. Thanks again, Jimmy.”

  Her next task was to set up interviews with Peggy McBride and the boy, Travis. Dealing with the victims would be the most difficult part of the case. She had seen so many domestic abuse cases ruled in favor of the accused because the victim was too terrified to testify against them or felt some sense of loyalty to the abuser. So many times, the victim went back to the abuser, only to allow the cycle to repeat itself months, weeks, or even days later.

  Billie sat at her desk and stared straight ahead as her mind wandered to events nine years earlier. She was working on her law degree and taking classes at night. One night in particular, she was late getting home. She stopped to have coffee with another woman in her class. Seth was almost a year and a half old.

  When she got home, the first thing she noticed was Seth crying. She found him standing in his crib, sobbing his heart out. Cradling him in her arms, she realized he was soaking wet. Brian had neglected him the entire evening. She cleaned Seth up, changed his diapers, and dressed him in clean pajamas. She got a bottle from the refrigerator, sat down with him in the rocking chair in his bedroom, and sang to him until he fell asleep. After laying him in his crib, she covered him up and went to confront Brian.

  She found him lying on the living room couch, with several empty beer bottles scattered around him and the television remote in his hand. Before she had a chance to say anything, he was off the couch like a shot and grabbed her by the neck.

  “Why are you late, bitch?”

  Billie found it difficult to reply through the stranglehold he had on her throat. “I was hav… having coffee.”

  “You were out fucking around on me, weren’t you? Weren’t you?”

  “No. No, I wasn’t. Please let go.”

  He backed her up against the wall and slammed her head into it over and over. “You belong here with me, taking care of that little bastard in the other room,” he screamed. “Not out screwing everything in sight.�
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  “I… I wasn’t.”

  “Don’t lie to me, you filthy whore.”

  “Brian, stop. Please.”

  “I’ll teach you to run out on me, bitch.” While he reached for his belt buckle, Billie kicked him in the shin. He let out a howl and fell to the floor, releasing the hold he had on her neck only when she fell on top of him. She scrambled away, but he caught her foot and yanked on it as hard as he could. He twisted it and caused an audible snap. Climbing up and sitting across her stomach, he threw blow after close-fisted blow at her face. About half of the blows landed on target, the other half blocked by Billie’s flailing hands. When he stopped, he removed his belt and whaled it across her back until stripes of blood could be seen through her blouse.

  Afterward, he rolled off her, staggered to his feet, and passed out on the couch in the living room. Billie managed to crawl into Seth’s room, where she locked the door and laid on the floor, trembling from anger, pain, and fear through the remainder of the night.

  It wasn’t the first time he’d hit her, but it was one of the most severe. It all went downhill from there. Not long after that, Brian found Billie’s diary and discovered her preference for women. He beat her again, and she couldn’t get out of bed for two days. Next, came the photographs with the prostitute, and the blackmail, vowing to reveal her “dirty little secrets,” as he liked to call them, to her parents. She couldn’t let him break her parents’ hearts, no matter what she had to endure.

  The beatings became more frequent, but he was careful about where he hit her. Having to make up excuses for her injuries had been difficult, so she had learned to hide the abuse. For another full year, she lived in her secret hell, until one fateful day her parents were killed in a car accident and Brian lost his hold over her. In her parents’ death, she found the freedom to divorce him and run away with Seth.

  She reported him for the abuse, but his wealthy parents managed to buy his freedom. He never paid a penalty for his crimes. Not until she met Cat. Not until he made the mistake of hurting his son and raping the woman she loved. It took the pain of others to make her act on years of hate and anger that had built up inside of her.

  And now, that hate was back to haunt her. She found herself on the verge of hurting the one person who gave her life meaning. She found herself falling into Brian’s patterns.

  God, please don’t let me hurt her, or the children, Billie prayed to whatever God was listening. She closed her eyes and allowed the tears to cleanse her memory as they ran down her face.

  Chapter 8

  Billie drew herself out of her self-imposed hellhole of memories and checked her watch. It was only one p.m. She fidgeted, feeling emotionally out of control. She didn’t like who she was becoming. Her anxiety level was very high and caused waves of desperation to run through her. Unable to hold back any longer, she picked up the phone and dialed the hospital. After several minutes, Cat came on the line.

  “This is Cat Charland.”

  “Cat,” Billie said, her voice weak and shaky.

  “Billie? Billie, are you all right?”

  “Can you get out of work? Can you meet me at home?”

  “What’s wrong? You’re scaring me.”

  “I need you.”

  “I’m on my way. I’ll see you at home in a few minutes.”

  Billie grabbed her car keys and headed out the door. She ran to her car. Ten minutes later, she pulled into the driveway of her house. Cat wasn’t there yet. Billie paced the living room for the next five minutes until Cat stepped into the kitchen.

  “Billie, where are you?” Cat called as she walked into the living room.

  Billie ran to her and pulled her close. She couldn’t stop trembling as Cat’s hands ran up and down her back.

  “Shhh. Whatever it is, it’ll be all right. I love you. Shhh.”

  Billie took Cat’s hand and led her up the stairs and to their bedroom. They lay on the bed, and Billie held Cat close. “Please forgive me,” Billie whispered. “I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you how sorry I am, and I’ll never give you reason to doubt me again. Please believe that.”

  Cat traced her finger across Billie’s brow and down her cheek. “Don’t be afraid. I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you. And as far as forever goes, you’re stuck with me. Yep—stuck like glue.”

  Billie smiled at Cat’s attempted humor. “Thank you.”

  “We’ll get through this. I promise.” Cat pulled the quilt up around them. “Sleep now and know that I’ll be here when you awake.”

  * * *

  Billie only slept an hour. Cat didn’t sleep at all as she stood guard over Billie’s heart. Finally, Billie stirred.

  “Hi,” Cat said.

  Billie just smiled.

  “Are you ready to talk about it?”

  Billie sat up and reclined against the headboard. She pulled the quilt up with her and tucked it around her waist. For several moments, she held Cat’s gaze without speaking a word.

  “Billie?” Cat took Billie’s hand in her own.

  “I need help.”

  “Help? What kind of help?”

  “Professional help.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “There’s so much you don’t know about my past. So much I’ve been holding inside, keeping from you. I need help dealing with it before I end up hurting you or the children. Please try to understand.”

  Cat saw how much this meant to Billie. “Okay. Help is good,” she said. She tucked a few stray locks of strawberry blonde hair behind her ears. “Do you have someone in mind?”

  “I thought we could start with the doctor we saw after the rape.”

  “Dr. Connor. She’s good. Okay, I’ll call to make the appointment.” Cat paused and studied Billie for a long time. “I’ll be right back,” she said. Cat went to the living room to make the call.

  Moments later, she returned. “We’re in luck,” she said. “Dr. Connor has an opening at four this afternoon. That’s just an hour away. Let me give Jen a call to see if she can pick the kids up at daycare.”

  Billie nodded and Cat made the call. “All set. Do you want anything to eat before we leave?” Cat was uncomfortable with the situation. She had never seen Billie in this kind of funk, and she didn’t know how to deal with it.

  Billie shook her head.

  “Is there anything else I can do for you while we wait?”

  “Can you hold me?”

  Cat held her close to her heart and whispered, “I love you.”

  “I’m sorry, Cat.”

  “For what?”

  “I came so close to hurting you the other day.”

  “You wouldn’t have hurt me. I trust you completely.”

  “Don’t be so quick to trust me. You could end up hurt if you do.”

  “Never,” Cat said. “Never.”

  * * *

  Billie and Cat sat side by side in the waiting room of Dr. Connor’s office, hands clasped, neither saying a word. Finally, the door opened and the doctor motioned Billie into the room. Billie rose to her feet and sent a silent plea with her eyes. Cat rose and followed Billie.

  Billie held Cat’s hand as they sat opposite Dr. Connor.

  “It’s been awhile since I’ve seen you,” Dr. Connor said as she read through notes from previous sessions. “Let me see—ah yes, almost five years ago when you were dealing with the rape trauma.” Dr. Connor laid the notes in her lap. “What brings you here today? Billie, let’s start with you.”

  Billie looked at Cat, then back at the doctor. “I... ah... I... Damn, this is hard.”

  “Would it be easier if Cat left the room?” Dr. Connor asked.

  “No,” Billie said vehemently. “This concerns her. She has a right to be here.”

  “Billie, it’s okay. I can wait—”

  “No. I need you here with me. Please don’t go.”

  “Okay.”

  Billie brought Cat’s hand up and kissed her knuckles. “Thank you.” She
directed her attention at Dr. Connor again. “I’m afraid of hurting Cat and the children.”

  Dr. Connor leaned forward. “Why would you be afraid of hurting your wife and children?”

  “Because it’s all I know.”

  “Billie,” Cat said, “we’ve been together for nearly five years, and you’ve never once hurt any of us in anger. How can you say that?”

  “Yes, I have. Two days ago, I yelled at the kids for no reason. I had you pinned against the door. I wanted to hurt you during that argument. I sat at my desk today at work, thinking about that fight. I panicked. The anxiety was overwhelming. That’s why I called you. I needed to feel you, to know you still loved me, even though I treated you like that.”

  Cat opened her arms and took Billie into them. “Of course I still love you. You didn’t hurt me. Please stop beating yourself up for something you didn’t do.”

  Dr. Connor interrupted. “Cat, did Billie pin you against the door?”

  “Yes, she did, but—”

  “And did she threaten you?”

  “Yes, she did, but she didn’t do it. She couldn’t.”

  “Couldn’t she?”

  “No. I don’t believe for one minute she could.” Cat rose to her feet. “I trust her. I may have learned the hard way, but I trust her.”

  Dr. Connor looked at Billie. “Do you believe you could do it?”

  “Sometimes I feel I need to hurt others the way I’ve been hurt.”

  Cat sat down and took Billie’s hands in hers. “I’ve never hurt you. How can you say that?”

  Billie freed one of her hands and cupped the side of Cat’s face. “Not you. Never you.”

  “Brian?” Cat asked.