“He knew I was close to catching him so he caught me first.” Vicky replied calmly. She kept her hands still on the table and stared Kim straight in the face. There was no way she was going to give this bitch anything.
“So you’re saying he kidnapped you?” Kim asked. She pulled a notepad from her pocket and began to write in it, “He must be one kind kidnapper to have packed an overnight bag for you.” Vicky shrugged her shoulders.
“Who am I to say what goes on in a criminal’s mind?” her heart pounded as she wondered how long she was going to have to sit through this. All she wanted to do was get out and go home.
As she thought about going home she realized she couldn’t. Ian would be there. There was no way she was going to go back to him. This was her chance to get a clean break. She’d been gone for two days he wouldn’t expect her to return.
“Look are we done here? I was kidnapped, you found me and rescued me. There’s nothing more to it.” Vicky explained. Kim raised an eyebrow.
“I know your hiding something. Don’t think I can’t see right through you,” Kim assured her, “I will figure out what you’re hiding and when I do you will be sorry.” Ignoring her words Vicky turned to Paul.
“Am I free to go? I really could do with a rest after all the excitement.” She gave him a pleading look; one she knew he would not be able to resist.
“You’ve not been arrested,” Paul explained, “We have no reason to link you to any of this. You’re free to go home and get some rest. I’ve already spoken to boss. He told me to tell you to take a few days off and come back when you’re ready to work.” Kim scowled at Vicky as she stood up and headed toward the door.
“Well Kim I’d love to say this has been a pleasure but I would be lying.” Vicky laughed as she saw the angry expression on Kim’s face.
With that she opened the door and walked out. Paul walked behind her down the corridor. Her spirits were just lifting when she saw someone turn the corner in front of her. It was another cop. He wasn’t the one who made Vicky’s heart sink. It was the man behind him. Ian looked up from his feet as he turned the corner and his eyes fell on Vicky. He scowled and walked quickly toward her.
“Vicky, what the hell is going on?” he demanded.
“I have nothing to say to you.” Vicky replied and she attempted to walk past him. He grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her back to face him. She looked down at his hand on her arm as Paul cleared his throat to show that he had seen everything.
“Vic, do you need a hand?” he asked from behind her. She looked over her shoulder and shook her head.
“Thanks Paul but I’m fine. Don’t you have a criminal to catch?” she forced a smile in his direction. Paul looked reluctant but after another nod from her, he gestured for the other cop to follow him.
“Let’s just go home.” Vicky told Ian. He instantly looked happier as though he thought that she actually wanted to go back with him.
Her heart pounded and she felt hot with adrenaline fever as she followed him down the corridor and out of the station. They climbed into his black ford and before Vicky could even fasten her seat belt they were heading for home.
As soon as the apartment door shut behind them Vicky wished she had asked Paul to arrest Ian. Within moments she felt his fist hit the back of her head. She stumbled forward grabbing hold of the table where the bowl for their front door keys sat. The bowl slipped off the table and clattered to the floor. Vicky was relieved to see that it didn’t shatter. It was the one thing she had left of her mother’s.
As she corrected herself she turned to look at Ian. “What the hell was that for?” she demanded.
“What the hell do you think you were doing running off like that?” he hissed at her as he raised his hand again. This time he back handed her across the face. Her cheek instantly grew red and began to swell. She felt the sting of his attack running through her face. She pressed her cold hand against her cheek, trying to ease the pain.
“I was kidnapped, I didn’t run away, you idiot.” Her ordeal had left her feeling a lot braver. In the few days she’d spent with Tristen she had realized that she was not a punching bag. He hadn’t abused her in the way Ian did. If you didn’t include the rape he had been very kind to her.
“How dare you talk to me like that?” Ian snarled as he reached forward and grabbed hold of her hair. Yanking her head back he slammed his fist into her stomach. The wind was knocked so hard from her that she gasped for air. She doubled forward as he released her hair and she tumbled to the floor.
“I won’t be your punching bag anymore.” Vicky vowed as she forced herself to her feet and squared her shoulders ready to face him. This time when his fist came toward her face she grabbed hold of it and her other hand came forward with a fist of her own. Her knuckles connected to his nose and she heard a loud crack. Ian stumbled backward with a loud caterwaul of pain.
“You bitch!” he shouted as he pressed his hands to his face, “You broke my nose.” blood oozed between his fingers. When he lowered his hands blood was streaming out of his nose, down his face and off his chin onto his tie.
“I’ll show you what you get for fighting back.” he laughed suddenly as he reached for the buckle of his belt. Vicky felt panic rising inside her. She raised for the bedroom door but didn’t reach it in time. He grabbed the back of her shirt and swung her toward the sofa. As she collapsed down onto it he brought the belt down like a whip across her back. She squealed in pure pain as the belt lashed her again and again. It tore her blouse and cut deep into her skin. Blood bubbled from the wounds as again and again more opened up. All she could do was cover her face and attempt to crawl away. She reached out one hand and it connected with the cushion that sat on the sofa. She attempted to place it over her back but he reached forward and grabbed it from her. He stopped whipping her and reached forward. Vicky’s panic increased as she felt the belt wrap around her neck. As she grabbed at the belt trying to pull it away from her throat, she could feel him moving behind her. The panic had set in now. She was panting and breathless as he reached down and unzipped her trousers. She knew what was coming. She was about to become like Tristen’s victims, but worse. The only difference was Tristen would never have beaten his victims to the point of death. He would have caressed their skin and given them the same pleasure he had shown her. Tristen might have hurt his victims physically, but that wasn’t his intent. Ian would be brutal and leave her bleeding when he’d finished with her.
Vicky couldn’t stand the thought. Heart pounding, she reached out again. This time she could see her target. She grabbed hold of the metal ash tray that sat on the coffee table. Reaching behind her she connected the tray with Ian’s temple. He stumbled backward giving her enough time to grab hold of the apartment phone. With shaky fingers she stabbed in the number for emergency services as her feet stumbled toward the bedroom. Ian was on her heels but this time she was fast enough. She slammed the door on his fingers just as he reached the doorway. He yelped in pain and pulled his hand back out of the jam giving Vicky enough time to push it closed and lock it. Ian began to pound like a bear on the door.
Vicky pressed her ear to the phone and listened for the voice on the other end.
“Emergency services, what is your emergency.”
“Please help me. My husband is trying to kill me.” The words tumbled from Vicky’s lips and she gasped as the door was slammed hard against her back. The phone fell from her hand as Ian slammed his way into the bedroom. Vicky found herself weeping as she scrambled away from the door. He grabbed hold of her ankles and pulled her across the floor. Carpet burns stung Vicky’s elbows as she attempted to pull herself away. She kicked out with both feet managing to connect one with his already broken nose. This delayed him but only for a moment. He pressed one hand against his nose reaching out with the other.
“You’re just making things worse for yourself.” He laughed as he grabbed hold of what was left of the back of her top. Her back stung as he pulled her to her fe
et and spun her around to face him. His long fingers wrapped around her throat and he pulled her face close to his. As he breathed on her she recognized the stench of booze all over him. The smell made her nauseous and she struggled not to vomit all over him. She was feeling dizzy and weak with pain. Her eyes flickered and she struggled to hold on to consciousness.
She knew it was all over as the back of his hand came down across her face again and everything went black.
Vicky’s head sung with pain as she blinked open her eyes. The light was too bright and it scorched her eyes. Closing them to slits, she glanced around her. She was surrounded by four white walls. The forth had large glass windows that looked out onto a corridor beyond. Vicky instantly knew where she was as she looked down at her hand where an IV drip had been implanted in her vein. She sighed with relief only to yelp in pain as the breath made her ribs hurt. Every part of her felt swollen. She was lying on her front and as she attempted to move she knew why. She quickly recoiled from moving as her back stung. The wet compresses that covered the whip wounds on her back moved a little and pulled at the open wounds.
“You’re awake.” A familiar voice spoke from across the room. She turned her eyes and could just see Paul stood looking at her. in his hands he held a bright vase of flowers which he placed on the table beside her bed as he moved forward to sit in the chair at her bedside, “How are you feeling?” he asked as he turned to look at her.
“Like death.” Was all she could say as she tried not to move.
“What happened, Vicky? Did Tristen come back?” he asked. His voice was full of sympathy and she could feel him gawking at the wounds on her back as though they were about to jump off her and bite him. Vicky attempted to shake her head but quickly stopped herself as pain shot down her spine.
“Don’t try to move.” Paul told her as he gently touched her shoulder, “You need to rest.”
“You’re right Mr. Kilmartin. She should be resting and I should be asking you what you’re doing in here?” Although Vicky couldn’t see her she recognized the voice of Paul’s wife. She was a nurse at the hospital and had clearly jumped at the opportunity to care for one of her husband’s friends. She walked into Vicky’s view and asked,
“How are you feeling, Vicky?”
“I’ve felt better. Do you have anything a little stronger for the pain?” Vicky asked, trying to laugh a little. Joan shook her head and began to apologize,
“I’m sorry. We pumped you full an hour again. We can’t give you anything else for another hour.” Vicky sighed and closed her eyes against the light.
“Paul, I have to ask you to leave. Vicky won’t heal if you sit here questioning her. She needs peace and quiet,” Joan explained as she took hold of her husband’s arm and hoisted him up out of the chair, “Get going.”
“Ok, ok, I’m going.” Paul put up his hands pretending to surrender as he turned toward Joan. He planted a kiss on her lips before adding, “I’ll see you at home. You make sure you look after my girl.” He pointed at Vicky.
“I will. Now go.” Joan repeated. Paul nodded quickly and swept himself from the room like a scolded child.
I had been a week and Vicky was finally allowed to move from her bed. Her wounds were still sore but they had almost completely sealed over. Every time she moved she was terrified of opening them up again. She was exhausted. Every time she closed her eyes or tried to sleep all she could feel was the belt around her throat and the pain as it had been lashed across her back. If it was just a nightmare she may have been able to handle it. The fact that it had really happened made the nightmares all the worse and before long she was forcing herself not to sleep.
She sat upon the window seat looking out of the park across the street when she heard the door open. She didn’t turn to look who it was as she guessed it was probably a nurse or Paul come to check on how she was. She was utterly shocked when she heard his voice,
“Hey gorgeous. How are you feeling?”
Vicky turned her head slowly, avoiding the pain in her back and saw Tristen stood closing the door quietly behind him. She knew she should have been scared. She knew she should have grabbed the alarm that hung by her bed and rang it as quickly as she could but she didn’t. Instead she felt relief and happiness at seeing him. The fact that he was stood before her meant that the police hadn’t caught him yet. As she thought about it she began to panic.
“Tristen you can’t be here. There are cops everything.” She hissed in a whisper as she swept herself from the seat into his arms. He looked surprised and held back for a moment before wrapping his arms around her. Vicky winced in pain as his arms brushed her wounded back and he pulled himself back as though he knew he’d hurt her.
“I’m sorry,” he sighed as he lifted her head to make her look at him and began to stroke her cheek, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“Believe me that’s nothing.” Vicky replied.
“Vicky you look awful.” Tristen examined the bruised cheeking and receding swelling that was her face.
“Again that’s nothing.” Vicky told him. She turned and lifted the top of the pyjamas Paul had gotten from her place. Tristen gasped in shock horror as he saw the lash marks on her back. When she turned back to him, putting her top down, she saw that his face was flaring with anger.
“Your husband did this didn’t he?” Tristen demanded. Vicky didn’t need to answer. Her facial expression was enough for him to read as clearly as a book.
“I’m going to kill the bastard.” Tristen hissed as his nostrils flared with anger. Vicky grabbed hold of his arms and tried to calm him.
“First will you stay with me a while?” she asked him in a soft tender voice. Tristen’s face softened as he looked down at her.
No matter what his crimes had been in the past he was nothing compared to the man she has been living with. There had been no tender looks, no loving kisses. It had been one slap after another as soon as the ring was on her finger. It was as though as soon as the gold touched her skin she was an object that was Ian’s to own, to do with as he pleased. Vicky looked down at the ring that still banded her finger.
“I won’t let him hurt you again, I promise.” Tristen said as he pulled her closer to him.
“I want him to pay for what he’s done to me.” Vicky whispered.
Tristen wrapped his arms around her and looked deep into her eyes.
“I’ll do whatever it takes.” He promised. Then he added, “You look tired. Are you not sleeping?”
“I’ve been having nightmares.” Vicky admitted as she shrugged her shoulders.
“I have nightmares all the time.” Tristen told her. Vicky remembered the morning when he’d woken up screaming and nodded her agreement.
“I remember.” She told him.
“Let’s get you settled,” Tristen told her as he swept her toward the bed. Vicky settled in and tried to get as comfortable as possible on her side. To her surprise Tristen removed his shoes and climbed in beside her. He wrapped his arms gently around her so not to hurt her.
“Try and sleep now and I’ll tell you a story.” He whispered softly to her.
“What story?” Vicky asked pulling her head up to look at him. There were many things she wanted to hear about but they definitely weren’t fairy tales and she wanted to let him know that.
“What would you like to hear?” Tristen asked.
“Tell me about your childhood.” Vicky whispered as she lowered her head back down onto his chest. She felt him tense suddenly as she spoke.
“I’m not sure I…” he stammered and Vicky pressed herself against him, trying to comfort him.
“Please, I want to know more about you.” Vicky pleaded. Tristen sighed out a long breath before finally beginning,
“When I was five my mum left my father and I. My dad was so depressed and just buried himself in his work, leaving me to do everything on my own. He met a woman who brought him out of it but unlucky for me she saw the scum of the earth,” Tristen’s body shook a
s he spoke and Vicky pressed herself close to him and wrapped her arm around his waist, “She beat me night and day. She ordered me around making me open her wine bottles for her. Because I was so young I had trouble opening them and if I didn’t open them quick enough she’d beat me harder.”
“Didn’t your dad stop her?” Vicky couldn’t help but ask. She felt Tristen shake his head.
“He refused to see any of it. Besides he was too busy working all the time. You see he was a doctor. He was always being called out and whenever he wasn’t around she’d beat me. She’d make sure that she was the only one to bathe or dress me and she’d mark me only where people couldn’t see; where my clothes hid the marks.” Vicky felt herself shudder.
“What happened to your dad?” Vicky asked.
“When I was sixteen they were both killed in a car crash. Shelley had been drinking as usual but she insisted on driving and my dad wasn’t one to deny her anything so they went for a drive and never came home.” Vicky gasped in shock.
“I’m so sorry Tristen.” She looked up at him and saw the pain in his face. He shook his head then.
“Don’t be sorry for me. That day was the best and worst of my life. I may have lost my father but I gained my freedom and the control over my own life.”
Tristen forced her head down onto his chest with his chin. “Now that’s enough story time. It’s time for sleep.” Vicky didn’t object. She was too tired. Her eyes were already fluttering shut and it wasn’t long before she finally dropped off with her head resting lightly on his chest. She breathed in a soft sigh as she took in the feeling of him beside her. For the first time since she’d arrived in the hospital she felt safe.
Chapter Nine
When she woke Vicky found that she had not dreamed at all. She woke feeling well rested but was dismayed as she realized that Tristen was no longer beside her. Fresh morning light filtered through the blinds of the window and she could just see the back of a police officer parked at her door. Climbing carefully out of bed she headed over to the door and the officer turned to look at her.
Taken: Against My Will Page 6