by Regan Ure
“Damien,” I said as I tried to breathe, but my chest hurt too much. I felt the tears slide down the side of my face.
I was still alive but I was in bad shape. Grant had managed to damage me on the outside as much as he’d damaged me on the inside.
“I’m here. Just hold on, they’re nearly here,” he reassured me. I heard the hitch in his voice. He was scared. And so was I.
“Please stay with me,” he pleaded when I whimpered again. “Keep your eyes open and stay with me.”
I wanted to do as he asked but I felt cold. I think I might have lost too much blood. I heard additional voices.
Voices rattled off vitals and medical jargon. The paramedics were here. I felt a prick in my arm. I couldn’t hold on anymore. I felt the numbness spread through my body and the pain begin to subside. I could feel the touch of the hands of the paramedics as they examined my arm and the knife in my stomach.
Through my haze I heard the paramedic say, “We need to get her to a hospital now!”
“Please don’t let her die,” I heard Damien whisper to them before I passed out.
Beep. Beep.
I felt disoriented and my mouth was dry. The incessant beeping continued. My eyes wouldn’t open—they felt like they’d been glued closed. I tried to move, but my body felt too heavy. Memories of what happened flooded back, and my heart rate increased. The beeping began to speed up.
“It’s okay,” I heard Damien say. “You’re safe.”
Those words broke something inside of me, and I felt the tears escape and slide down my face. And my vision blurred. I hadn’t felt safe in seven years, and I’d nearly died. I didn’t know if I would ever feel safe again.
“Shh, it’s okay. I’m here, I won’t let anything happen to you,” he assured me. I felt his hand wrap around mine. My hand hurt a little and it felt like a drip had been put into my hand.
Then I remembered being stabbed and I moved my free hand, which I could feel was in some sort of cast, to the place in my stomach where Grant had stabbed me. The knife was gone.
More tears slid down my face at the reality of what had happened and how close I’d come to dying.
“I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again,” Damien promised me as I felt him tighten his hold on my hand.
A fresh wave of tears slid down my face at the fear that Grant would find me and finish me off. The fact that I was lying in the hospital with every part of my body battered attested to the fact that Grant had meant every word when he’d told me he would kill me.
“You need to rest,” he told me. “You’re safe. I promise I won’t leave you.”
Memories of what had happened flitted through my mind and I felt my heart begin to pound against my chest as the fear took over. The beeping from the monitor began to speed up again. The air locked in my lungs and I couldn’t breathe. Panic began to rise inside of me.
“Nurse,” I heard Damien yell when the heart monitor began to sound an alarm.
Nurses rushed into the room.
“You need to leave the room,” one nurse said to Damien.
I went into full panic mode and I struggled to draw a breath in, and just when I thought my heart would explode because it felt like it was pounding against my chest, I felt my body begin to relax.
“It’s okay, you’re just having a panic attack,” I heard a female voice say to me. “I’ve given something to calm you down so that you can rest.”
Whatever they’d given me began to ease the panic inside me, and I felt like I was floating in a bubble. My heartbeat returned to normal as I began to breathe easier and I drifted off to sleep.
The next time I woke up I could feel more pain and my body ached. The beeping was still coming from a monitor beside me. I felt someone holding my hand and turned to see Damien sleeping with his head next to my hand.
He looked exhausted and there were dark circles under his eyes. I wanted to reach out and touch his face, but I didn’t want to wake him up. His midnight-black hair fell across his forehead.
It was dark and a soft light illuminated the hospital room. I wondered how long I’d been out of it for.
I looked down to see a drip in my hand that lay beside Damien. A cast encased my other arm from my elbow to my wrist. I remembered how I’d panicked before and I didn’t want that to happen again, so I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself down.
Thoughts began to race through my mind and I couldn’t help but fear what would happen to me. Did they know that Grant had done this to me? But there was no way they could know that, could they?
The only thought that gave me some sort of comfort was the fact that I hadn’t seen Grant since I’d been in the hospital, which meant he wasn’t trying to pretend everything was okay. That either meant that he’d taken off or that the police had him in custody.
With my mother gone and the fact that I still had four months to go before I turned eighteen, I couldn’t help but fear what would happen to me now. I had no other family, so would they put me into foster care? My heart rate began to speed up and I could hear the beeps from the monitor speeding up as well.
I took a breath and released it to calm down.
“You’re awake,” Damien whispered as I felt his hand stroke mine.
I’d been so engrossed in my thoughts that I hadn’t realized he’d woken up. His eyes softened as he gazed at me with a weak smile.
“How are you feeling?” he asked as he shifted closer to me with the chair.
For the first time since the abuse had started, it was out in the open for someone to see, and I felt vulnerable. I’d tried so hard to keep my secret and the fact that it wasn’t a secret anymore was difficult for me to process. The sympathy in his eyes was too much and I felt a pressure build up inside. I swallowed the emotion down, trying to keep from crying, but then I saw the concerned look and it undid me.
“Shh, it’s okay,” he soothed as a tear slipped down my face. I felt his fingers brush the tear from my face gently.
I closed my eyes to try and shut out what I wasn’t ready to face. I wasn’t ready for someone to see the reality of what my life had been like for the last seven years. I took a breath and released it.
“If I keep upsetting you, they’re going to kick me out of your room,” he teased softly. I knew he was trying to lighten the mood but the fear that he would be forced to leave me alone scared me and I tightened my hold on his hand.
"Don't leave," I managed to whisper hoarsely.
He shifted the chair closer to me as he held my hand gently in his.
"I'm not going anywhere," he assured me as his gaze held mine. Believing him, I loosened my hold on his hand.
"How are you feeling?" he asked. I felt his thumb stroke the outside of my hand as he watched me.
"Thirsty," I croaked. He offered me some water from a cup with a straw. He helped me lift my head and I managed to take a couple of sips from the straw. The cool water soothed my dry throat.
"Thank you," I murmured.
Silence settled between as for a few minutes as he waited patiently for me to take everything in. I gazed down at my broken arm in the cast. My fingers gently touched my swollen eye and I winced from the pain. Dark blue and black bruises covered most of my visible skin. I knew the bruises hidden by the hospital gown would be worse.
"How long have I been here?" I whispered. I'd been in and out of consciousness a couple of times but I had no idea how long I'd been here for.
"A few days," he answered.
Days!
"What day is it?" I asked incredulously.
"Sunday."
I couldn't believe that I'd been out for nearly four days.
"Are you in any pain?" he asked with concerned eyes. It reminded me of what had happened. My hand reached down to my stomach and I touched my stomach gently.
I was afraid of what came next and I was unable to talk because I could feel the emotion clogging my throat.
"I don't want to upset you," he started, his eyes shif
ting nervously to mine as he ran his free hand through his hair, "but I need to know what happened."
My eyes held his and I remained silent. I'd been keeping silent for so long it was hard to tell the truth. He released a heavy sigh when he realized I wasn't going to talk.
"Haven. I found you with a knife in your stomach and you'd been beaten black and blue," he explained as he winced at the memory.
I watched him with wide eyes and as he relayed what happened. Bits and pieces of what had happened flitted through my mind.
"You'd lost a lot of blood and the paramedics tried to stabilize you so they could get you to the hospital in time," he informed me. His eyes showed his emotion and he swallowed hard.
I closed my eyes for a moment, taking it all in.
Grant's voice echoed in my head. You're going to see your mom, he'd said to me just before he'd stabbed me.
"Haven, the doctors found older injures." With that one sentence I knew that he knew about the abuse. When I opened my eyes, I averted my gaze, unable to look at him. Years and years of lying were over. Whether I wanted it or not, my secret was out in the open for all to see.
I felt his fingers gently touch my chin and lift my eyes to his.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered to me. His eyes glistened. I felt the sting of tears, but I refused to cry.
What was he sorry for?
"I had no idea,” he said. I'd spent years keeping the secret from everyone around me and I'd been good at it. It wasn't until I'd moved here that it had become more and more difficult to keep people at bay.
"I'm sorry I never realized what was happening. If I had, I could have stopped it," he whispered to me. His eyes were haunted. I squeezed his hand.
"You couldn't have stopped it," I whispered hoarsely. My throat was dry and a little sore.
"The cops are going to want to know what happened," he told me softly watching for my reaction. "They've been able to piece most of it together, but they still have some questions for you."
What had the police managed to piece together? Did they know it had been Grant who'd tried to kill me?
"They are looking for your stepfather, Grant."
"I don't want to talk to them," I said, shaking my head and trying to sit up. I needed to leave. Pain sliced through my stomach and I slumped back, gasping.
"You need to take it easy. You've had surgery and your body is still healing," he said with concern as he leaned closer with my hand still in his.
"I don't want to talk about what happened," I reinforced in a whisper, my eyes begging him to understand. Panic began to build up in me.
"I know you’re scared but you have to tell them what happened so they can put him away," he said fiercely. He didn't understand that I was scared of Grant. My fear for him had reached a new level when he'd tried to kill me. I knew the only way I would be safe is if Grant was no longer breathing.
I shook my head fiercely. The beeping on the heart monitor began to beep quicker as my heart rate increased.
"You can't let him get away with this," he said. I felt the panic began to build up more. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you.”
I tried not to think about Grant so that I could calm myself down.
"I won't let him hurt you ever again," he whispered softly, his eyes darkening with emotion. I closed my eyes tightly, wanting to believe him, but the reality was that I would probably be put into foster care and I would never see Damien again. I would be on my own.
I felt so tired. Maybe it was the emotional roller coaster or the fear that had suddenly drained me of all my energy. I let out a sigh. My eyelids began to droop and as much as I tried to stay awake I couldn't keep my eyes open.
"Sleep, I promise I'll watch over you," Damien whispered next to my ear.
I'd never trusted anyone before other than Chris, but I knew I could trust Damien. I drifted to sleep as I felt a feathered kiss to my forehead.
My sleep was restless, I dreamed of the attack. It replayed in my nightmares exactly how it had played out in reality. I thrashed against the inevitable of the knife pushing into my stomach as I screamed from the pain.
I heard a voice say, "Shh, it's going to be okay, Haven."
It was Damien. My subconscious believed his words, because my nightmares vanished and I fell into a peaceful sleep.
CHAPTER TEN
Haven
I wasn't sure how long I'd slept for, but it had to have been a while, because the sun was shining brightly into the hospital room.
True to his word, Damien was sitting beside the bed when I woke up.
"Hi," he greeted as he watched me closely.
"Hi," I greeted back hoarsely. My throat still hurt. I gave him a weak smile. My body ached and the wound on my stomach was still tender. I glanced around the room. The heart monitor was gone.
Thank goodness. That beeping had started to get on my nerves a bit. It was probably a good sign that it was gone. Maybe I would be out of here soon. Then the reality of my situation set in. I had nowhere to go. I managed to sit up with Damien's help. The door opened and someone stepped inside.
"The coffee machine is broken—" the stranger muttered, and then stopped when he saw me and he smiled. He was dressed in a smart, dark-gray suit.
I glanced from Damien to the stranger—there was no doubt about it, the resemblance was astonishing. They shared the same midnight-black hair, the same dark-blue eyes and the same dark-olive skin. The stranger looked like an older version of Damien. It was his father.
I couldn't help the fear that gripped me when Damien's father took a step closer. I tightened my hold on Damien's hand as my eyes flickered anxiously to him.
"It's okay, he's not going to hurt you," he soothed. It was ridiculous that I was scared of someone I'd never met before, especially since I knew he was Damien's father. His father gave me a tentative smile.
"He’s my dad," Damien explained. I didn't need the explanation; I'd already figured that out. It still didn't ease my fear.
"Haven, Dad—Dad, Haven," he introduced, watching my reaction. His father gave me a slight nod as I stared at him.
"How are you feeling?" he asked gently, keeping his distance, maybe trying to ease my fear.
"I'm okay," I mumbled. I forced myself to relax, but I still held Damien's hand tightly in mine. Not every man was like Grant, I had to remember that.
An awkward silence followed. I didn't know why his father was here.
"My father would like to talk to you, if that's okay?" Damien asked softly. My eyes flickered from him to his dad as he waited patiently for me to answer.
"Only if you stay," I murmured, feeling nervous all of a sudden. Damien's father smiled at me and I could see a warmth in him that Grant had never had. I could see that he wouldn't hurt me, but I still felt safer with Damien around.
"Sure," he said and then released my hand and stood up. He moved past his dad as his dad sat down next to me. I clasped my hands together. Damien stood at the foot of the bed.
"I'd like you to call me Steven," he told me. I nodded my head, even though I wasn't sure I'd ever really see him again.
"I know you've had a lot happen to you in the last week and I know you're scared." He paused for a moment. He had no idea how scared I'd been for the last seven years.
"Damien told me about you and what happened. He also told me about the fact that your mom just died as well," he continued.
I had no idea what any of this had to do with him. My eyes fell on Damien, who was watching me silently with his hands in his pocket. It also made me wonder exactly what Damien had told him.
“Do you have any family?” he asked softly.
I swallowed hard and shook my head. I had no one.
"We would like to help you," he said with a sympathetic smile. I frowned. I wasn't sure exactly how he could help me.
On top of everything that had happened to me the thought of that happening scared me.
"My wife and I have discussed it and we would like you to come
and stay with us."
My jaw dropped open and my eyes widened in surprise. I hadn't seen that coming. I looked to Damien, who was watching me anxiously. Had he known about this? I glanced back to his father, who gave me an encouraging smile.
"I don't understand," I whispered. How would it be okay just to go and stay with them? Surely there was more to it than that.
"I'm a lawyer and if it's okay with you I could get started on the paperwork to get temporary custody of you until you turn eighteen," he explained. "But that doesn't mean that you need to move out when you turn eighteen. What I'm trying to say is that we would like to take you in and give you a home, not just a place to live.”
I blinked and felt the sting of tears. I hated feeling so vulnerable.
"I don't want to push you to make a decision, so think about it and let me know," he said with a friendly smile as he stood to leave. He glanced to his son and then nodded his head.
When he left, Damien returned to the seat next to me. I was still trying to process what his father had asked me. My eyes lifted to his when he reached for my hand again.
"Why would your parents care about what happens to me?" I asked. Their actions didn’t make sense to me. The people that should have loved me hadn’t and strangers that had no reason to care for me were offering me a home.
"It's a long story," he answered vaguely with a touch of sadness in his features. Whatever the long story was about wasn't something Damien was comfortable talking about. "They want to help you. My father is a lawyer and my mom's a doctor. They’ll be able to provide you with everything you need. When I told them what had happened to you, my mom cried. They want to be able to give you a stable and loving home."
I knew there was more to it than that, but I wasn't going to push him. The truth was that I was petrified of being placed into a foster home. I'd have to live with complete strangers and then I would be all on my own again. At least if I agreed to being placed with the Knights, I would stay here where I had Damien and Chris. And possibly, with time, I would be able to trust his parents as well. When I thought about it, there wasn't much of a choice. Staying with the Knights would be better than going into foster care; but, once, I had trusted Grant, and look where that had gotten me.