Taking Control (The Control Duet Book 2)

by Lindsey Powell

He knows the old Lucy, and the new.

  He might be expecting me to go back to the version that he grew up with.

  But she’s gone.

  She’s not coming back.

  And I have no idea who she is going to be in the future.

  “Lie with me,” I whisper, needing time to process all that he has said.

  He gives me a sad smile as I shift across the bed a little, making room for him beside me, and as he settles down, his arm around me as I lay my head on his chest, I pray that I have the fight inside of me to get through this.

  I pray that I can expel my demons.

  I pray that I can believe Cal’s words.

  And I pray that I can piece myself back together.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Reality Bites

  Lucy

  Did I dream Cal being here?

  Did my brain play a trick on me?

  Would my imagination be so cruel as to do that after what I’ve been through?

  I look around the empty, clinical room that leaves me feeling cold and alone. A room where the man that I thought I loved and who loved me, tried to kill me. I will forever be left with the memory of his hands squeezing the life out of me. I will forever bear the marks of his reign of terror.

  The door opens, and I cower, expecting to see Michael come hurtling towards me, but as my eyes widen and my heart threatens to give out, I see Cal, not Michael.

  Cal with his soft smile and his kind eyes, holding two take-away coffee cups.

  God, why couldn’t I have just told him how I felt all those years ago?

  Why wasn’t I more confident that he would love me back?

  Why was I so afraid of damaging our friendship by wanting more?

  I let out a sigh as he closes the door and makes his way over to me.

  My heart has longed for him, and now it’s too broken to accept another man’s love.

  “Morning,” he says as he stops beside my bed and places the coffee cups on the table.

  “Morning,” I reply quietly, wishing that he could embrace me and make all of this go away.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m okay,” I say with a smile that doesn’t cover up the fact that I am a fucking mess.

  “The doctor will be here to see you shortly,” Cal informs me. “And then hopefully they will let me take you home.”

  Home.

  Where is that?

  I don’t have a home anymore. I haven’t had one for a long time.

  The thought of possibly having to go back to the place that I shared with Michael has bile rising in my throat and dry heaves racking my body. Cal quickly puts his arm around the back of me, moving my hair away from my face and telling me to breath slowly.

  I try to push Michael away as I listen to Cal’s words.

  “Breathe, Lucy, nice and steady.”

  Breathe in.

  Breathe out.

  Cal rubs my back and after a few moments, I begin to calm down and the dry heaves stop.

  “Sorry,” I say to him with a groan.

  Sorry.

  I fucking hate that word.

  It means nothing, it’s just five letters. Five letters that have left my mouth more times than I care to admit, even when I had done nothing wrong.

  “Lucy, please stop apologising,” Cal says, and I move my head to the side to look at him. The sorrow on his face has my heart sinking a little more. I hate him looking at me like that.

  I go to say sorry again but quickly clamp my mouth shut.

  “I can’t go back to that apartment, Cal, I’d rather sleep on the street.” My prison, my hell, my own personal horror movie. I want nothing to do with it. I want nothing in it.

  “When I said home, I meant my place,” Cal says and once again he shocks me. “I only want you to stay if you feel comfortable with the idea,” he adds, and I hate that he shows signs of me doubting him and his intentions.

  Cal is the one man that I have never doubted. He’s had my absolute trust for years. Our bond is strong, and I pray that it will never shatter.

  “I don’t want to put you out,” I say, getting on my own damn nerves with the way that I just can’t believe that I’m not a burden.

  “It’s not putting me out. Fuck, Lucy,” Cal says, running his hands through his hair and pacing up and down the room. I’ve annoyed him, exasperated him. “Our bond goes back years, and goes way deeper than anything else, and you know that you’re not a goddamn burden to me.”

  “Sor––” I clamp my mouth shut before I can finish that dreaded word. “You’re right. Thank you, Cal.” It’s all I can say at this point.

  “Good.” He nods his head at me and then the door opens, Doctor Malone walking in before anything else can be said.

  “Morning,” Cal and I say at the same time. He gives me a smile and even with my heart sliced to pieces, he still gives me a warm, fuzzy feeling. A feeling of being at peace.

  “How are you feeling today, Lucy?” Doctor Malone says as he retrieves a chart from the end of my bed.

  “A little sore, my throat hurts, and I sound like I’m a fifty-cigarettes-a-day-smoker, but apart from that I’m doing okay.” Christ, I’m so far from okay I might as well be in another dimension, but I’m so sick of everyone seeing how weak I am.

  “That’s understandable given what you have been through,” Doctor Malone says as he puts the chart down and comes to the other side of my bed. Cal hasn’t moved from his spot beside me, and I feel his hand gently cover mine. I refrain from closing my eyes at the contact. A gentle touch, full of more warmth than anything Michael ever gave me.

  “Can I take a look at your neck?” Doctor Malone says, and I nod, unable to speak. I tilt my head so that my neck is exposed, my eyes fixated on Cal, his fixated on mine. Silent words pass between us.

  It’s going to be okay.

  I wish I could have done more.

  We are going to get through this, together.

  Our happy ending is waiting, it’s just going to take some time to get there.

  Our.

  Us.

  Together.

  “You’re going to be left with bruises, but they will fade in time, and I can tell you that no other permanent damage was done,” Doctor Malone says, dragging my eyes from Cal and to him. “The pain when you try to speak will fade, but it will take time, so try to whisper and don’t strain your voice-box.”

  No other damage?

  Who is he kidding?

  I’m beyond fucking damaged.

  But the damage is invisible, it all exists in my head. The one place that will be the hardest to remove it from, if I ever can.

  “Lucy, there are two police officers outside, waiting to speak to you,” Doctor Malone says, and I feel the anxiety creep its way up my chest. I knew this was coming, but it doesn’t mean that I am prepared for it. “I’ve told them that they can only enter when you feel ready to talk to them, and if that isn’t today, then I will tell them to leave.”

  Even Doctor Malone is giving me a fucking pity-look.

  God.

  What has my life come to?

  “I’ll see them,” I say, a ferocious determination running through me to get this done, start the process of eradicating the poison from within.

  “Are you sure?” Cal says, and I whip my head to look at him, groaning a little as I do from the ache that surges through my neck with the movement.

  “I’m sure.”

  Cal squeezes my hand and I squeeze his back. More silent words.

  I’ll be here with you.

  I’m strong enough to do this.

  Together.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Inner torment

  Cal

  I sit and listen to the police officers ask question after question after question.

  Some of her answers make my insides boil with rage.

  Some of her answers break me.

  Some of her answers make me want to throw up and expel the utter disgu
st that I feel towards Michael.

  What he did to her.

  How he made her feel.

  I fucking despise him.

  If he were in this room right now, there would be nothing stopping me from tearing him limb from fucking limb.

  His abuse.

  His reign.

  His hatred.

  A monster.

  “Are there anymore incidents?” The police woman asks, her face stoic, her eyes guarding anything she is thinking.

  I want to stop her, tell her to take a fucking break and give Lucy some space, but Lucy seems determined to keep going. To pour everything out. Relieve herself of some of the pain of carrying this alone.

  “Yes,” Lucy whispers as she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. She hasn’t shed any tears yet, but I can feel them coming. Fuck, I want to cry for her. Her story would bring anyone to their fucking knees. Not in sympathy, but from feeling a slice of the pain that she describes piercing their heart.

  “Whenever you’re ready,” the police woman says, a smile on her face that doesn’t quite reach her beady, dark eyes. I don’t know what to make of her, but if she is going to help my girl get that bastard locked away, then I don’t need to make anything of her. All that matters here is Lucy.

  “The moment it started to get worse was when I was taking a bath. I was exhausted from the constant back and forth of Michael’s emotions. I couldn’t keep up. I wanted some peace, away from him, away from the hell that was my life. He was there as I got into the tub and closed my eyes, wishing that things could have been different, telling myself that I had to do better.

  “It can’t have been more than a minute before I felt my head being pushed down, beneath the water. I hadn’t been prepared, I hadn’t taken a deep breath. I frantically tried to get him off me, my arms flailing, my legs kicking out. I remember thinking that it must have been my fault… I angered him, I wasn’t a good enough girlfriend, I kept doing things wrong… Until I stopped thinking, I stopped flailing and kicking, and I just lay still, waiting for death to rescue me.

  “When I stopped, I guess Michael panicked and he pulled my head from under the water. I gasped for breath as he towered over me, and I remember thinking that I had been so close to being free from him, only for him to snatch it all away and bring me back to the nightmare that I was living in.

  “He fell to his knees, told me he loved me, told me that he didn’t mean it before I told him to go away, and he left the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. I left the apartment shortly after and went to Cal’s.”

  She stops talking and looks at me, my brave soldier. Fuck is she brave. I’ve never witnessed anything like it.

  I already knew about the bath tub incident, but it still pains me to hear it again. But nothing prepared me for the next revelation as she detailed Michael handcuffing her to the bed.

  My teeth grit together so hard that I’m surprised they don’t crack from the force.

  Motherfucker.

  “Do you have any evidence of these incidents?” the police woman says.

  “There are some photos,” Lucy answers.

  “Are we able to see them?”

  Lucy looks to me. I have the photos, including the ones that Kim took. I’ve tortured myself by looking at them, knowing she was living in hell whilst trying to get as much evidence as she could to lock the monster in a cage.

  “I’ve got them,” I say, and the police officer narrows her eyes my way.

  “Where are they now?”

  “At my house.”

  “Which is where?” she asks.

  I rattle off my address and she says that she would like me to accompany them, so that they can take the photos to the station.

  “It’s okay, Cal, you go, I need to get some sleep anyway,” Lucy says, sensing my struggle to go and give the police what they need but at the same time battling my urge to stay here with her.

  “I’ll come straight back,” I tell her.

  “There’s no need. You go, get some rest, and I’ll call if the doctor says that I can leave.”

  With a resigned sigh and a heavy heart, I stand up, waiting for the police officers to escort me out of here, like I’m the fucking criminal.

  “We’ll be in touch, Lucy,” the police woman says before she walks to the door, the other officer following behind her.

  “I’ll see you soon,” I say as I lean down and place a kiss on the top of Lucy’s head.

  Time to go and make sure that we nail this bastard, and with any luck, they will throw away the fucking key.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The woman that I lost

  Lucy

  Cal helps me out of the car as the aches that consume my body cry for me to just stay still. He guides me to the front door of his house, and I’m so grateful that I didn’t have to return to the apartment and relive every part of the nightmares all over again. They’re going to be hard enough to forget without any in-your-face reminders.

  That is if I ever forget.

  Cal opens the front door and before I can even step inside, a figure comes barreling into the hallway, shouting hello, making me stumble back and cower.

  “What the fuck, man?” Cal shouts as I try to control my trembling body, his arms going around me in comfort, protection, and to make me feel safe.

  “Sorry, bro, I didn’t mean to scare you,” says a deep voice. I haven’t had the courage to look up yet, my mind going from panic to embarrassment at my reaction. “Is she okay?”

  “Lucy, baby, look at me,” Cal says softly, his hands moving from around me and coming to move my hands away from my face. I let him because I know he just wants to be there for me, he doesn’t want to hurt me. “Just breathe, it’s okay, it’s just Sullivan. You remember Sullivan, right? Total dipshit from school?”

  I let out a chuckle at the last part, even if it isn’t genuine.

  “Hey,” Sullivan exclaims to my right, but I don’t look at him yet, I keep my eyes trained on Cal.

  “You’re safe, and I promise that nothing will happen to you,” he whispers quietly, so that this Sullivan guy can’t hear him.

  Breathe in.

  Breathe out.

  My new mantra.

  Come on, Lucy, you’re being silly. Michael isn’t here.

  I allow my head to nod slightly and Cal smiles, placing a kiss on my forehead before letting go and taking my hand in his.

  “Sullivan, what are you doing here?” Cal asks as Sullivan continues to look at the both of us in confusion.

  “You said I could come here if I had an emergency. I had one, and here I am,” Sullivan says before turning his attention to me. “Sorry about scaring you. I guess you don’t remember me, huh?”

  I try to recall him from school, but the only person I can think of is the annoying guy that used to like playing pranks on people but was really shit at them because he always got caught.

  “The shitty prankster?” I say to Cal, using the nick-name that everyone gave Sullivan.

  “That’s the one,” Cal confirms before laughing out loud. I allow the sound to flutter over me, through me, within me. The simple sound of laughter, something I have missed for so long.

  “Oh yeah, you two are hilarious,” Sullivan says sarcastically.

  “Well, you were pretty shit at pranks, to be fair,” Cal says before I can.

  “Okay, okay, can we move past my shitty pranks and start again?” Sullivan says, holding his hand out for me to shake.

  It takes every bit of strength for me to raise my hand and place it in his, but I do because this is normal. The life I have been living isn’t, and I desperately need some form of normalcy.

  Sullivan’s hand shake is gentle, as if he knows I am ready to break apart at any moment. I hate it. I don’t want to be seen that way. So, I hold my head a little higher and squeeze his hand a little harder. He looks so different to when I last saw him in school. His hair is no longer down to his ears, he’s no longer short, and there doesn’t see
m to be anything pudgy about him. No. Instead I am looking at a boy that turned into a man with shorter black locks that have a natural wave to them, he has a couple of inches on Cal, and a lean body that is shown by the tight vest top he’s wearing.

  “Seriously though, Sul, what emergency did you have for you to come here?” Cal says as he puts his arm around my shoulders and walks us through the front door, moving Sullivan to the side.

  “I had a Danielle emergency,” Sullivan replies, closing the door behind us as we move into the hallway.

  “She kick you out?” Cal asks.

  “Yup.”

  “What did you do this time?”

  “Uh… Well… She caught me with my dick in some other chick,” Sullivan says, and I instantly feel pissed off with the guy.

  Why do these men think that they can treat women like shit?

  “You’re an idiot,” Cal says, pulling me a little bit closer to him. I welcome his comfort, his familiarity, and the way he doesn’t judge me for what has happened. “You can stay tonight, but that’s it.”

  “Is this a regular thing? You being kicked out?” I ask Sullivan.

  “Happens once every few weeks and I usually sofa-surf until she forgives me,” Sullivan says with a shrug of his shoulders.

  “Wow.” I can’t help my response, I’m astounded that this guy doesn’t seem to give a shit how his actions have impacted someone else.

  “She’ll have calmed down in a few,” Sullivan says.

  So, he’s gone from a shitty prankster to a shitty all-rounder. Whoever Danielle is, she should stay away from him.

  Some men are just toxic.

  “One night,” Cal says firmly before walking through to his kitchen, leaving Sullivan shouting thanks behind us.

  I sit myself at the kitchen table and take a few deep breaths.

  This is it.

  After today, I need to start piecing myself back together.

  I made a promise to myself when I left the hospital that I would do everything that I could to move past this and learn to live with what Michael has done to me.