by Ellie Jean
“Baby, it’s all going to be alright. Whatever has you spooked, I can deal with it.” Leaving my fingers on her chin for a second more, I feel her gulp then nod. I replace my hand on her thigh to reassure her.
“I’d locked up the shop for the af-afternoon and was doing my last delivery of f-flowers.” Her voice wavers and her struggle to get the words out is visible but I squeeze her leg to encourage her to continue.
“They were f-for an elderly man on the second floor.”
Tears start to form and trail down her cheeks. Using my thumb, I wipe one away. She stares at me.
“I opened the d-door and my eyes fell to a man s-standing next to the bed, pillow in one hand, gun in the other.” Bouncing her legs on the bar stool, her breath catches and she coughs. Taking her hand, I lead her over to the sofa.
“This is better.” I hope my voice soothes her.
Drawing in some air, I get where this is headed and it’s not sounding good for Bluebell. She did the right thing running. “Can you keep going?”
“There was red. Red blood c-coming from his face. My eyes raised to the man and I shouldn’t have looked but… but why would something like this happen here, in a hospital? Why?”
“Unfortunately, baby, there are bad elements everywhere, just most of the population live in oblivion. Never exposed to the underworld and danger associated with it. This life doesn’t touch many but the few it does, it’s ruthless, manic, and at times savage. I’d say you’ve stumbled head-on into a murder, Bluebell.” Tears continue to fall down her silky skin, and her body shakes. “I’m lucky I found you when I did.”
I’ve never spoken truer words in my life.
Sniffling in, trying to hide her distress, she murmurs, “They’ll try and k-kill me, won’t they?”
“They won’t be getting near you. It won’t come to that ‘cause my guys and I won’t allow it. We will work out who the hell they are, who the dead guy is and why he was killed. But because you saw the face of the man, they will want you dead. No witness, no repercussions.”
Her chin falls down to her chest and she breathes out, “I thought so.”
“But we can kill them first.” Unsure if that’s the right thing to say, I need her to know we will keep her unharmed.
Clouded blue eyes strike mine, littered with pain and turmoil and instantly I’m reminded of another time.
Fuck. This girl is not her… internally I try and black my past out.
Heat flows through me, anger starts to brew and full-blown protection mode kicks in. My voice gruffer than I intend, I need her to understand. “I swear you won’t be hurt.”
The earlier connection between us intensifies. Both of us studying the other.
Our eyes meet and stay locked.
Silence envelops us but a calmness flows between us.
Intimate but comfortable.
Friendly and easy.
Bluebell gives her head a tiny shake.
“There’s a major p-problem.” Trying to straighten her body and adjust her breaths so she appears composed, Bluebell closes her lids slowly.
Gathering courage?
Praying to a god?
Unsure if speaking will make it a reality that she isn’t ready to accept?
Sighing, indicating her resignation of trying to hold it in, she spears me with sad eyes. “It was m-my b-brother holding the g-gun.”
Numbness. A crippling sensation which torments the body.
You can get accustomed to living day in, day out being numb. It’s easier than trying to deal with the whys, what-ifs and could-have-beens.
It’s been part of my life now for twenty-plus years. When you find out the person who gave life to you, who is eternally bonded to you by blood chooses a life without you then there’s a coldness that inches through your body, freezing you from outside until it whittles its way completely toward your heart, numbing you completely. Each day for months I would wake thinking today would be the day my mother would realize she was missing a part of her, but she never came looking for me or my brother.
Small things were eliminated first. I gave up smiling and looking at the photos on the wall. I refused to go to the park and play with my friends down the road. I didn’t want to do schoolwork and my love of creating ceased and before I knew it and as I grew older, nothing seemed to engage me or at the same time worry me because I was oblivious to what was happening around me. My body and mind found a way to cope with the rejection.
My father and brother however managed by showing force, by using punishments and with the use of aggression. Subjected to cruel words, beatings, exhaustion, and depravation of any type of care, numbness wrapped its claws into me and has stayed there permanently. I could escape my family for short periods of time when I went into the garden when they weren’t home, but Colton would always find me.
“What?” The look on Ocean’s face says it all. My stomach plummets and I blink slowly trying to get the courage to talk more.
“My brother killed that m-man.” My hands wring in my lap. “I know you probably th-think this is good n-news. A brother surely wouldn’t kill his younger sister.” I gulp and his large hand covers both of mine to steady the shakes coursing through me.
“But?”
“We have bad, to the point of deadly, h-history.” I’m trying to sound strong and composed but the small tear that escapes my eye tells a different story. Ocean, a stranger, a killer I presume, an imposing male, pulls me into his chest and the steady rhythm of his beating heart, calms me.
I relax into him like I was made to fit his body.
“So, your brother knows where you live?”
My body shudders. “No, I don’t think Colton knew I w-was in LA. B-but he does now.”
“You don’t see him then?”
I shake my head slowly and inhale a large intake of oxygen. “It started when I was young, after M-mom left us. He started calling me names, making me do his jobs, deliberately sticking s-scissors, any sharp objects into my skin if I refused. Later, he’d pull my hair to the point of it c-coming out of my scalp if he was angry enough, broke bones by punching me, bruising me everywhere but never to the p-point where I couldn’t work. My arms and legs were always safe, ‘cause Dad and Colton needed me to work in the shop every day.”
Ocean’s arms press into my body a little lighter tensing with my words. I should stop but I need this out. It’s been bottled inside of me for way too long.
“If I wasn’t getting p-punished in the shop for being an idiot or being too slow, I was at home, trying to keep out of both their ways but Colton always found me. A l-lock couldn’t keep either one of them out when they had lost money, drunk too much or f-fed up with life being abandoned by Mom. It took its toll on all of us.”
A large hand wipes the hair that’s fallen onto my face back and he thumbs away my tears. My head rests on his chest still.
My ear against his chest hearing his rapidly beating heart should concern me but it lulls my fear.
“He put his hands on all of you?” It’s Ocean shaking now.
My body goes rigid. I understand too clearly what this patient man is asking me.
“C-Colton tried when I was s-sixteen, but he smelled of stale beer, his eyes were like red saucers and he could hardly stand up, so I overpowered him, whacking my side table lamp over his head knocking him out cold. I thought he was d-dead.”
“He will be.” Sounding harsh, heat swamps me from the anger radiating off Ocean.
“That’s the same night I left my dysfunctional f-family. I left LA traveling to San Francisco on a bus where I was h-homeless for a while, worked and saved money and finally was able to do a c-course in floristry. I haven’t seen either of them since then. I keep track of them. Dad’s almost dead somewhere and Colton was in jail last I heard. I moved back here about nine months ago ‘cause a job opportunity came up at the florist at the hospital. I couldn’t turn it down. I thought after ten years of being away, I could hide my identity from my family
and start a new life that I have dreamed of.”
“Fuck.”
Looking into his swirling dark eyes, I can see a cyclone brewing in them, and I jump up.
Flight takes over my senses, scared by what I see.
It’s a similar look to what my father and brother would get before they inflicted some sort of torture on me.
I run fast on instinct toward the bedroom, slamming the door behind me, hoping that the small timber wooden door will keep the six-foot-plus man out of the room.
Thud… Whack… Thud… Whack…
I hear the pounding of my organ mixing with a blaring ringing noise in my ears. The breaths escaping my mouth are loud rivaling my other senses as I crouch down in the corner farthest from the door.
Why is this happening to me now?
My life was finally on track and I’d built up a successful business. One I am proud of.
When will I have a normal life?
Closing my eyes with force, my ankle throbs and my shoulder and arms ache being tightly clamped against my drawn knees. Quivering all over, darkness spears through me even though the sun is by now high in the sky.
“I’ll find you, there’s no point running,” Dad bellows from the kitchen where I made spaghetti for them, cleaning as I went. Sitting down eating dinner fast, I didn’t want to hang around afterward. It’s expected that I stay at the table until my father and brother are finished but with their last mouthful, I got up on shaky legs and made my way from the table. Quickly…
I’m out of breath hiding between the bed and the cupboard. My ears ring and I try to stop a cough from escaping as I crouch down. I knew it wouldn’t be long before he came looking for me. I’d left the shop once again in a flurry, finishing my jobs so I could get home to get dinner ready. But Dad had caught me again ogling the teenage boy who comes in every day, buying the same thing every day too. I learned my lesson the first time. Bruises decorating my skin for days after. I am careful now, but today obviously not careful enough.
“Get your ass out here. Don’t make me find you or it will be worse.”
Could it get worse?
Should I go to him?
“You little slut.” His voice is getting louder, and I want the earth to swallow me up. “No daughter of mine is going to be a tramp like her mother.”
Piercing through my skull is the creak of my bedroom door. I squeeze my lids tighter and pray that he won’t hurt me as bad as last week’s beating that should have seen me go to the hospital but instead, I was laid up for two days in my bed. Of course, I still had to get up to attend to them with a black eye and the sorest ribs.
“Please Daddy. No… I won’t do it again. I promise you. I won’t.”
Hands touch my arms.
I scream…
I’m no counselor or expert on human reactions, but Bluebell had been damaged. Perhaps not sexually but physically and mentally she was scarred.
The biggest woman problems I’ve had to deal with are coaxing my mother away from her alcohol for a few hours so we could have a family dinner resembling some kind of normal family or when Melody needed to get rid of a guy who wouldn’t take no for an answer.
My heart thumps in my head, the pulse in my neck vying for my attention. An overwhelming urge to touch Bluebell takes hold.
Like it did with Phoebe.
Fuck, I haven’t said that name in such a long time. But her story is so fucking similar.
She looked petrified when she flew to the room.
“Baby, how do I help you?” Crouching down beside her hunched over body, my arms instantly wrap themselves around her without a second thought. Her screaming should make me reel back but I can’t, a ripple of pain flutters through my chest hearing her devastation. Broken and hurting, I want to erase what is hiding in her shadows.
My fingers stroke her head gently. “Bluebell, it’s Ocean. I’m here for you.”
Her piercing cry subsides but her breathing is still escalated. How do I fix this? My body is flooded with warmth touching Bluebell in such a vulnerable state, my lips moisten and my fingers ache to run over her body to stop her trembling. My mind is in overdrive going through scenarios to take this pain away permanently from Bluebell.
“Sshh… no one’s going to hurt you again, baby.” Her body exhales but her eyes don’t open although the wrinkles around them ease up with her body relaxing a little bit. “I’ve got you now. I won’t let them near you.”
The guys say I speak shit all the time. Trying to maintain some fun in our deadly lives, I take it upon myself to be the joker of us all but in contrast, when I mean business, nothing gets away from me. No one escapes their punishment, and I don’t usually ask twice before issuing it. I need no more words from Bluebell about her sadistic brother or father. They come within a mile of her, and they won’t be alive long enough to say sorry to her.
“Ocean?” Her voice is tiny and hesitant making me squeeze her a bit more. I try to work on evening out my breathing so I am calm when she is fully coherent. I can’t scare her again.
“Yeah.” Moving her body slightly, my arms loosen, and I watch her carefully as her eyes regain focus. “How do you feel?”
“Embarrassed and scared.”
Cupping her chin and at the same time keeping her next to me, I stare at her. “That’s something you never have to be around me. You’ve been hurt, baby. Your body is protecting you but now you don’t have to do it alone. I’m going to be right by your side.”
“The look you got in your e-eyes was the same look my brother would give me before he b-beat me.” Wet lashes draw up revealing eyes that have seen too much havoc.
My chest plummets and I want to slam my fist into my own face. I don’t move though, at this stage I think I need her stability to keep me from hunting down her family and shedding my own type of manic onto them. “I know. I am sorry I didn’t control myself better but what they have put you through is inexcusable. But you never have to be frightened around me, Bluebell.”
“It’s s-stupid or maybe I am but somehow I know that. Instinct, flight or fight kicked in and my normal is to run.”
“You’re not stupid, you’re cautious and alert. Always trust your gut reaction. It won’t let you down.” Listening to my own words, my gut tells me that Bluebell has been put in my path to help her.
Lifting my body up, I take her hand in mine and the heat continues to flow through it keeping my heart thawed. “Come and lie down for a bit.” Ushering her toward the bed, she doesn’t rebel, but lays straight down looking at me. I take the quilt from the bottom of the bed and place it over her.
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me. I want to do this.”
“Umm… sure.” I can see the uncertainty in her blue eyes, but she needs to rest and get stronger before we work out what we do about her problem. I know exactly what I want to do but when it’s family, guilt and reasoning plays over and over in your mind.
“I’m going to go down to the market and get some groceries for us. We need food and you need rest.” Going toward the door, my legs move but the pull from my chest to her body is making it difficult for me to leave. If I look down, I swear I would see elastic tied between us, keeping us joined.
“Ocean?”
“Yeah?”
“W-will you l-lay with me ’til I f-fall asleep?” Timid like a mouse, her wide eyes beckon me to stay.
“Are you sure?” I want to jump into the bed and never let her out of my sight, but I scared her less than five minutes ago and she already is asking me to stay close. I won’t say no.
Nodding her head, she moves the blanket back and I slide in next to her and wrap my arms around her slight waist.
“I’ll be here for as long as you need me.”
My nose inhales the scent of her hair and I hold it in committing the lemon scent to my senses. Within minutes, her body unwinds and sags next to mine. I close my eyes briefly.
“Do you have any other jobs going in here?�
�� My fists tighten and I want to knock this dick into next week. The way he speaks to the girl is disgusting. He needs to be taught some respect. If I get close enough, I may be able to stop this jerk from doing any more psychological damage to the young girl.
“No. It’s a family run business. Just me, Dad, and my sister keeping this place alive. No place for guys like you here.”
“What the fuck do you mean by that?” Putting my goods on the counter, I’m about to jump the counter and teach this fucker a lesson when I hear yelling.
“I’ve told you enough times, keep your eyes on your job.”
“Ouch…” A screech erupts. “No, more. The broom handle hurts, Daddy. I’ll stop.”
The boy at the counter jerks his head to the back of the shop and my legs push off the concrete in the direction of the noise forgetting about the scum in front of me that needs a lesson taught.
Another scream rips through the shop and I bang the exit door back in time to see a young girl braced up against a wall, with red welts across the back of her knees. A large man swings a wooden handle back toward her raw flesh. Jumping in the way, the wood slams across my hands as I try and grab it.
“What the hell are you doing back here?” Red-faced and with a psychotic look in his eyes, the older man is about to pull the handle from my grasp, instead I yank it, throwing him off balance. The boy rounds the corner in time for him to hold out his hands, stopping the man from falling on his ass.
“You two are nothing but animals, hitting on a girl, your own fucking daughter.” Standing tall, I’m broad for my sixteen years of age and working out daily, my arms are powerful.
“Get your ass out of here, this has nothing to do with you.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I’ve been watching you now for a year or more degrading her any chance you fuckers get. It stops now.”
A weakened hiccup hits my ears. I watch as the small girl with long black hair trying to go unnoticed. I turn my back on her and scrutinize the bastards in front of me.
“It’s family business, it doesn’t concern you.” The older man steadies himself and the young boy stands next to him flexing his fists, moving from foot to foot trying to intimidate me.