Haven's Knight

by Regan Ure

  He’d left me alone for the moment, but it wouldn’t last.

  I didn’t sleep much that night. Every time I closed my eyes I would think about my mom. I felt guilty because I knew I should feel some grief, or shed a tear.

  The next day I decided to go to school because the only alternative was to stay home with Grant. He’d be busy organizing funeral arrangements for my mom. My mom had lost both her parents at a young age. She been an only child. There was no family to mourn her.

  I had no idea where my father’s family was. After my father’s death my mother had pulled away from them and within a few months we’d lost touch totally with them. I wasn’t sure why. I always thought perhaps it was that it hurt too much to be reminded daily of what she’d lost that had made her cut them out of our lives.

  When I got to school, I was still in a daze. The numbness that had crept over me the day before when I’d found out my mom had died had settled into my body. I walked into school, my eyes on the floor as I walked to my locker. Voices continued to echo around me. It was like I were in my own bubble, and I wasn’t paying attention to anything going on around me.

  “Haven,” I heard a voice behind me through the echo.

  I didn’t stop. I kept walking. I felt someone reach for my wrist and I turned to see Damien looking at me with concern.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. His eyes scanned my face.

  I nodded my head at him and then pulled my arm out of his hand. He let me go but I could see from his expression that he didn’t believe me.

  “You seem out of it,” he said as he lifted my chin with his finger and took a closer look at me. I pulled away from him.

  “I’m fine,” I said, this time with more conviction, before I walked away from him while he stood watching me.

  The guilt I’d been wrestling with grew with every passing moment. How was I supposed to tell someone my life-changing news and explain why I wasn’t upset? I tried to carry on as usual and pretend nothing was wrong, but by lunchtime I was exhausted. My back still hurt.

  Chris gave me the same concerned look Damien had given me this morning when I sat down next to him on the grass. He put a bag of lunch down in front of me. Even the sight of what he’d packed me for lunch wasn’t enough to make me smile like it usually did. He waited patiently, watching me as I opened the sandwich he’d packed for me. Today he didn’t talk or babble on like he normally did. I ignored him and ate the sandwich. I opened the soda and sipped it quietly.

  Once I’d finished eating he looked at me and asked, “Are you going to talk about it?”

  He could tell that something had happened. I just looked at him and his eyes softened.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” I whispered. I was scared that if I told him what had happened and I didn’t react the way I was supposed to, it would raise more questions that I couldn’t answer. What kind of girl didn’t cry for her dead mother? I knew why I didn’t feel anything, but I couldn’t explain that to Chris or Damien without revealing my secret.

  “If you change your mind, you let me know,” he said softly to me. I looked at him and nodded my head. There was no way I was going to change my mind.

  I still had to keep my secret otherwise Grant would make sure I wouldn’t live to see another day. Some days I wanted to give up, it would just be easier, but the tiny bit of hope that one day I would be free kept me going.

  The rest of the school day passed and I kept to myself. I breathed a sigh of relief when the bell rang for the end of day. At least I wouldn’t have people watching me and trying to pretend everything was all right when it wasn’t. I just wanted to be on my own away from everyone.

  Damien stepped into my path as I walked toward the bus stop.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, when I stopped in front of him. Couldn’t he just leave me alone?

  “I’m fine,” I said, trying not to make eye contact with him.

  I was scared he would see the truth in my eyes. He would see that I was lying. I felt the heat of his gaze on me.

  “I’ve got to go,” I insisted when I saw the bus arrive at the bus stop.

  “I’ll give you a lift home,” he offered as he stuffed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.

  There was no way I could let that happen. Grant had warned me that he would kill Damien if he saw him with me again.

  “I can’t,” I answered as I tried to walk around him, but he grabbed my wrist. I stopped but I kept my eyes glued to the ground, unable to look him in the eye.

  “I know what happened,” he whispered.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Haven

  My eyes shot to his.

  What did he mean, he knew what happened? There was no way he could know that my mom had died, I hadn’t told anyone.

  I stood silently in front of him with my eyes wide, waiting for him to tell me what he knew. He still held my wrist gently in his hand—maybe he thought I was still going to try and make a run for it. I felt my heart race with the fear that he would discover what an unfeeling monster I was.

  “I heard the ladies in reception talking about it,” he said softly. He watched me closely for a reaction. The school would have been notified. Damn the gossiping ladies in the office.

  It was like lifting the lid to the bottle of my secrets. If there weren’t a lid to keep my secrets firmly bottled up, they would escape one by one before they would all come out. To stay alive, I had to keep my secret.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” I whispered to him as I pulled my wrist from his hand.

  “You can’t keep it bottled up,” he said, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “If you don’t find a way to deal with it it’ll fester inside and tear you apart.”

  His eyes looked haunted.

  Why did it sound like he was talking from experience? He didn’t know my history or why I felt no grief for my mother dying. He would never understand why there was no grief to deal with.

  “I’m not going to talk about it,” I told him, with a determined look.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push. I’m just trying to help,” he said with a shrug. His gaze dropped to the floor.

  I felt bad that I was pushing him away but it was for the best. He looked over his shoulder and toward the bus stop. My eyes followed his. The bus had left already. I could feel the anxiety clenching at my stomach. I’d have to walk home because I couldn’t let Grant see me with Damien again.

  “Can I at least give you a lift home?” he asked when he turned back to me.

  “No,” I said as I walked around him. I had to fight the urge to look back over my shoulder at him.

  It was one thing for Grant to hurt me, I’d been handling it for years, but I couldn’t stomach the thought of Grant hurting Damien. I’d only gotten a few minutes away from the school before I heard a car pull up next to me. I didn’t have to look to know it was Damien.

  “Get in the car,” he ordered through the window of his car. I ignored him and continued to walk.

  I had to keep him away from me but he was making it nearly impossible. Why did he have to be so stubborn? I heard a car door slam and I turned to see him walk around the front of his car.

  “Don’t make me put you in the car,” he warned with a steely edge in his voice. Why was he making it so hard? I knew from the determined look on his face that he would put me in the car if I didn’t get in on my own.

  I held his gaze for a minute and then his features softened.

  “Please, it’s my fault you missed the bus,” he pleaded. He was just trying to help, but he was making things worse.

  Why couldn’t he just leave me alone? He took a step toward me and I held my hands up.

  “Okay.” I finally gave in, knowing I had no choice. I walked to the passenger side as he opened the door for me. Once I was inside he walked around the front of the car and got in.

  I didn’t look at him as he started up the car. I felt like I was watching an accident happen in slow m
otion and there was nothing I could do to stop it. He had no way of knowing that by trying to help me he was putting us both in danger.

  “Please, could you just drop me off at the bus stop instead of my apartment?” I suggested nervously. If he dropped me off at the bus stop around the corner from my house, he would be safe in case Grant was at home.

  He glanced in my direction and noted my nervousness. He looked at me thoughtfully for a moment as if he was trying to figure out why I suddenly didn’t want him to drop me off at my apartment.

  “Okay,” he relented, looking back at the road.

  I began to relax a little.

  It wasn’t long before he pulled up by the bus stop and he switched the car off. Even though we were around the corner from my apartment block, I still looked around nervously, hoping not to spot Grant.

  “Thanks,” I muttered. I reached for my bag and opened the passenger door, but before I could get out he reached for my wrist to keep me from leaving the car.

  “I don’t want what happened to me to happen to you,” he revealed softly. His eyes had that haunted look again.

  He was definitely talking from experience. I couldn’t help but wonder who he’d lost. Was it a close family member or a friend?

  “I know,” I said. I still couldn’t stop the nervous fear that somehow Grant would see us somehow.

  “If you need anything, just call me,” he murmured, and he released my wrist. He gave me one last look before he started his car. I got out and shut the door.

  No matter how hard I’d tried to keep away from people, Damien and Chris had gotten too close. Now everything around me felt like it was starting to unravel.

  I hurried home. While I walked around the corner and then up the stairs toward the apartment, I started to think of something I could tell Damien to keep him away from me.

  He’d seen that I was damaged like he was and that was why he’d made it his mission to watch out for me. Somehow I had to come up with a way to keep him away. The abuse had escalated and I knew without a doubt that Grant was capable of murder. I hesitated for a while outside the apartment door. I couldn’t help the nervous fear that settled over me as I reached for the door handle.

  Now that my mom wasn’t around anymore I knew the abuse would get even worse, and I just needed that moment to build up enough courage to open the door and step inside.

  I stepped inside the apartment and I closed the door behind me. I took a few steps toward the living room and I was about to peer into the kitchen to see if Grant was there when he stepped through the doorway. He glared at me and I took a step backward. I wasn’t sure what had set him off but he was going to give me a beating. There was no doubt about that. I could see it in his eyes.

  He took a step closer to me and then I watched in horror as his right hand curled into a fist. I felt the pain explode in my head when his fist hit the side of my face. I dropped my schoolbag and it landed with a thud on the floor. It was such a vicious hit that I put my arms up to stop him.

  Everything slowed down while the pain throbbed in my head. I opened and closed my eyes as my eyesight blurred.

  “I fucking told you!” he yelled at me and I flinched. I watched as he pulled his fist back and he hit me again. This time my left arm took the brunt of the hit while I cowered away from him. I felt the snap before I felt the pain. He’d broken my arm. I cried out in pain.

  It was excruciating. It was worse than when he’d broken my arm when I was twelve. I cradled my broken arm close to my chest while I closed my eyes to try and block out the pain.

  He wasn’t finished with me yet.

  “I told you to stay away from him. You think you’re so clever, getting him to drop you off at the bus stop,” he sneered at me. “I fucking saw you!”

  How on earth had Grant seen Damien drop me off at the bus stop? It made no sense. The apartment was around the corner.

  “I went to the shop and I saw the two of you when I walked out,” he revealed when he saw my confusion. His eyes darkened with anger. He’d seen us and then he’d come back to the apartment to ambush me.

  My worst fears were becoming a reality. Terror gripped me when I realized I’d be lucky if I made it through this beating alive.

  The next fist hit my eye and my head flew back. Pain exploded in my head. I was in agony now. I wanted to touch my eye but I couldn’t stop cradling my injured arm.

  I lay on the floor in a haze of pain as he knelt down next to me. A cold, evil smile spread across his face. He looked like he was enjoying every moment of this.

  The adrenalin pumping through my veins staved off the pain from my wounds. I felt his fist connect with my shoulder. Pain swept through me and I screamed. I couldn’t take much more, I felt like every inch of my body was screaming out in agony.

  “Shut up,” he snarled at me. He stood up and he kicked me in the stomach. I cried for him to stop but he just kept going. Kick after kick, I lost count of how many I endured.

  I struggled to breathe, my chest hurt. My one eye had swollen completely shut and I could barely see out of my other eye.

  “Please, no more,” I whispered, while I hung on desperately to hold onto consciousness, trying to fight the urge to let my body down and give into the darkness. He looked down at me and laughed. I groaned and tried to take a breath, but my lungs wouldn’t work. I could only breathe short and shallow breaths.

  “You’re going to join your mom,” he told me as I watched him turn and disappear into the kitchen. My eye was already starting to swell.

  What did he mean, I was going to join my mom? It took a few seconds for the meaning of what he’d just said to sink in. He’s going to kill me.

  I couldn’t help the sob that welled up inside of me. I felt the sting of tears as I realized I was going to die. I’d always hoped that I would make it out of this alive but that hope had evaporated. He was going to kill me. The sob broke free from my lips as I felt the wet tears begin to slide down my battered face. I struggled to breathe because of the pain and the emotion breaking free from me.

  All through the seven years that this had been happening to me I’d never cried. It was how I’d kept it all together. I’d always feared that if I broke down and cried I would fall apart and I’d just give up. For the first time in seven years, I let the tears free, and a heartbreaking sob racked my broken body as I waited for him to finish me off.

  I heard his footsteps as he re-entered the lounge and knelt down next to me again. I watched in horror as I saw him holding a knife in his hand.

  Oh. My. God.

  He was going to stab me. For a brief moment my eyes connected with his and I saw the evil that lived within him.

  Fear locked the air in my lungs and I lay there unable to get away or fight him off. Another sob tore through me as I realized that these were going to be my final moments.

  “Please,” I whispered as the tears ran down my face. I was pleading for my life.

  He said nothing as he pushed the knife into my stomach. I screamed. The pain was worse than anything I’d ever felt. It felt like a hot, molten lance slicing into my body.

  My body began to shut down as the pain became unbearable. I lay as still as I could to try and ease the pain. I closed my eyes.

  I heard him walk into the kitchen and I heard water running. Then I heard his footsteps closer to me. I held my breath, trying not to move. If he thought I was dead, he might leave me alone.

  A minute passed and then I heard some shuffling and the sound of a door opening and slamming shut. Slowly, I opened my eye and looked around. He’d left the apartment.

  I had no idea how long he would be gone for. I felt the blood oozing onto my hand that held the knife still embedded in my stomach. He probably left hoping that by the time he returned I would have bled out.

  My school bag was within reach. Then I remembered the phone that Damien had given me.

  I bit down on my lip as I tried to reach for the bag with my broken arm. Every slight movement closer to t
he bag was absolute agony but I couldn’t give up. No matter how bad the pain was I was still conscious, and this was my only chance.

  If he came back before I could get help, I was dead. The pain from my stomach reminded me that even if I got help, I might bleed out before they arrived.

  I gasped as I reached my schoolbag and pulled it closer. A wave of pain hit me and I bit down on my lip to keep from screaming.

  When my hand found the phone, I pulled it out of the bag. I wasn’t even sure how to work it. I tried to think back to how Damien had shown me how to dial his number. I pushed the speed dial for Damien and then I put the phone against my ear. The pain was so intense that I bit down on my lip again as I listened to the phone ring.

  First ring, second ring, third ring. With every ring I felt myself lose hope.

  Then he answered.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Damien—“ I gasped against the phone as the pain tore through me again. I groaned. A wave of pain washed over me and left me gasping.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked. I could hear the nervous edge in his voice.

  “I—“

  But I couldn’t finish my sentence. Everything began to blur as I released the phone and I slipped into the darkness, where there was no more pain.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Haven

  I heard his voice. It was desperate.

  “Haven, open your eyes,” he pleaded. I was fighting through the darkness toward his voice. The pain seeped back and I began to whimper. Everything hurt. I could feel the pain radiating from my stomach.

  “Help is on the way,” he soothed hoarsely. I recognized the voice: it was Damien. He’d come to help me.

  “Hurry up,” I heard him yell. He was talking to someone else. I tried to open my eyes but the one was swollen shut. I couldn’t see well through the other eye because everything was blurry.