by Brock, V. L.
The speaker crackled as he brought it to life. I rested back into the seat, patiently tapping my fingertips against my thighs. It’s funny how time-consuming things seem to take when you can’t see the world around you.
“Kady, can you do me a favor, darlin’?”
“Hmm…” I rolled my head in his direction, still waiting for those damn lights to change.
“Look to your right and give a smile and a wave.”
“What?” What kind of request was that?
“Just do it,” he ordered softly, so I did. I felt a total idiot blindly staring out of the window waving at someone I couldn’t see, but he found it comical, the ass.
Finally pulling off, I slumped back into the bench seat, listening to a man’s husky voice warbling about not waiting for a hero to save us. I smiled, dwelling in the hollows of my mind, unconsciously valuing the reference, as it was drawn from the speakers.
At long last, we came to a stop. The sound of the leather of his jacket protesting as he flopped back into the seat and twisted after turning off the ignition, had me drawing my blinded attention toward him.
“Are we here?” I asked warily.
“Yes.”
When nothing followed, not a sound, not a movement, I sensed the creases on my brow deepen. “Walker?”
“Hmm…”
“Can I take the fold off now?”
“Not yet,” his voice was barely an octave over a breathy whisper.
A few seconds ticked past before I whined his name again.
“Yes, darlin’?” he replied.
“Why are you so quiet?” Why was I whispering? “What’s going on?”
“Shush…I’m just taking a moment,” his words were sweet, enriched and velvet soft. If they were edible, I’m sure they would’ve had the consistency of heated caramel.
Isn’t it bizarre how even blinded you can still sense when something it placed in your line of sight? How your other senses heighten. I licked my lips, and though I felt the warmth of his hand a few centimeters from my cheek, I didn’t move. Inside I was trembling with longing and pleaded for him to make that single connection. Outside, I played dumb, and allowed him to continue with whatever it was he was going to do.
All too soon, the shadow and presence of his hand was lowered from my face. “Okay,” he gasped, fighting for composure. “Stay there and I’ll help you out now, darlin’.”
“Can’t I just take off the damn blindfold?”
“Umm…actually…no.”
One word was wrenched from my throat as the door slammed shut, “Bastard.”
My elbow was grasped by the calloused hand, and I was guided through a parking lot. When we stepped away from the spring breeze and into an echoing surround, I whispered again if I could take the covering off. I was simply told, “Not yet.”
“Two for an hour,” I heard and although I had a cloth over my eyes, I felt them widen. A few moments later, my left arm was warmed by his heat as he stood beside me. “Ready, darlin’?”
“Two for an hour? Walker you better not have taken me to some seedy––” He laughed so hard that it was an unfeasible task to laugh at him. The moment of joviality came to a premature end on my behalf, when a brief gasp past my lips. My ribs throbbed and tightened, still, I fought beyond my moment of tenderness and blindly backhanded him in the gut. “Don’t laugh at me,” I pointed.
Stunned and embarrassed, the heat in my cheeks was unmistakable as I heard a female, softly spoken voice say, “Excuse me?”
Who the fuck was that? I flailed my head, scouring my sightless observation around the area. “I’m sorry,” I muttered to the people of wherever it was I was currently standing. Now I was getting disorientated, I think I had spun in a circle three times before I halted. “Jesus Christ, Walker,”––I stamped my foot like a spoiled toddler in the market––“Take this Goddamn thing off me.”
“Oh, my God, Kady,” he was panting. The Irish bastard was laughing so Goddamn hard he was panting, the fucking asshole. “That was hysterical. Come on.” His friendly hand surrounded my own as I was shakily led through a set of doors.
Walker’s heat collided with the nape of my neck as he stood towering over me from behind, his fingers in my hair, weaving under the fabric depriving me of my sight. “Ready?”
“Yes, take this thing off me.”
My lids unsealed when the material was unraveled. Feeling my retinas burning from the brightness drowning the room was the cause of my squinting. I scanned the area. A sea of trampolines over the floor and angled against the walls stared back at me. “Where are we?”
“Sky Zone. I thought it’d be fun. Trampolines aren’t just for kids you know.”
I smiled a brief smile as Walker shrugged out of his leather, slipped out of his boots and climbed up onto the bouncy masses. His hand was opened and extended to me, readying to help me up. “You go ahead and make a fool of yourself first while I watch.”
“But––” the expression he flashed at me was adorable. He looked like a youngster having his toy taken away.
I shook my head unfazed. “Nope, only fair after what you did to me out there,” I gestured to the double doors along my left side. My voice may have given the impression of sardonic gratification, yet it betrayed me. In reality, guilt flooded my veins and clutched painfully at the beating muscle in my chest. He’d surprised me for my birthday, and here I was, making excuses to not participate. The painful truth was: I didn’t know how on Earth I was going to survive flouncing around like that with my injury. It was challenging enough just laughing.
“Fine, but I will be dragging your arse up here, you know.”
I spent a good twenty minutes watching him as he flounced across the springy surface, tossing himself against the trampolines positioned against the walls into backflips and side flips, and any other flips he could throw himself into. I was enraptured and smiling like a lunatic.
“Come on, darlin’. Get your arse up here.” He was making his way toward me. I knew it wasn’t a good idea. I still couldn’t laugh without my ribs smarting. But his lively air and the effort it took to get me here made me push on.
I shrugged out of my denim jacket, toed off my shoes and took hold of his hand as he helped me up. “Is this even safe?” I questioned attempting to find my feet while being led into the center. I couldn’t bounce. I couldn’t walk. It was more like a pathetic skipping crossed with a shuffle.
“Of course it is. Kids have these in their backyards for Christ sake.” He studied me as I continued with my new shuffle-skip. Lips twitched a handful of times before he lowered his head, his shoulders juddering.
“Charming,” I made no effort at all to mask my deep disapproval. When his head came back up, tears were trickling down his face while I stood glaring.
“Oh, darlin’, I’m not laughing at you,” he panted.
My eyebrows met my hairline. “You sure as Hell weren’t laughing with me either, because I’m not laughing.”
“You would have, darlin’ if you could see yourself.”
Hands held, he told me to follow his lead and began to bounce softly, the surface remaining graced by our feet. We did so in unison, and before long, I was getting into the swing of things while reveling in his boyish demeanor. I let my hair down, lived for the moment and allowed my minute of happiness with him to chase the sinister clouds of the previous week away, as well as the physical discomfort. It was actually fun.
An animated shriek was ripped from my lips as I began to gain a little height. His hands had subtly worked up my arms, until they rested on my shoulders as we supported each other, clinging onto one another as our feet sunk into the elastic, before tossing us back into the air. “That’s it, Kady. Higher?”
“Higher?” I posed it as a question, but as animation took over, I suppose it sounded more of an agreement.
I hadn’t noticed what he was going to do, until it was too late.
His large hands left my shoulders and a pain-enthused cry wa
s forced from me when he grabbed at my ribcage. I stopped bouncing instantly, suppressing my body’s natural instinct to crash down onto my knees, and fought for a lungful of air while the discomfort that seared through my body made me nauseous. I was folded over, my right hand instinctively reaching for the source of pain.
Immediately drawing an end to his own eager springing, he spoke my name in earnest, “Kady?” His hand supportively pressed against my shoulder, his own tall, muscular form doubled over to examine me. “What’s wrong, darlin’?”
“Nothing,” I gasped and rolled my lips over my teeth halting my spontaneous cries and begging for the throb to ease. “I’m fine.”
“No, darlin’, you’re not. What’s the matter?”
I lifted my head, allowing his concerned features to disappear from my sight as I closed my eyes and sucked in an appeasing breath. “Nothing, Walker. Just leave it. I’m fine.” I punctuated, only to be greeted with a staunchly shake of his head, his lips tight, his brow tighter, as fluttered my lids open.
“You’ve been panting––”
“Walker, we’re on a fucking trampoline, of course I’m going to be panting,” I hissed scathingly.
“And you’ve been wincing. Don’t lie to me, Kady, I’m not stupid. I have noticed,” his tone was one not to dare mess with. I’d never witnessed him display such level of concern, of determination. I had to stop myself from crying then and there.
“It’s nothing,” I pressed.
The bottomless inhalation he drew in from his nose as he lowered his head echoed around the room. When his eyes lifted, I was pinned by their blue flamed intensity, alongside his ticking jaw.
He wasn’t going to let up and leave it be, was he?
For a moment, silence suffused. I was staring him in the eye, restrained by his gaze, pleading that he’d fail to see my doubt and reservation float to the surface. So intent on not allowing anything to be uncovered with simple eye contact, it didn’t even register to me when a sneaky, quick hand came to grasp the hem of my T-shirt and was recklessly lifted under my protest.
“Jesus Christ, alive,” he gasped almost winded by the sight. Unknowing what to do or say, I merely screwed my eyes wanting to jump into my imaginary time machine and travel back in time five minutes. “Kady––” The arch of my cheeks were freed of the long lashes that lay fanned out across them, as I hesitantly opened my eyes when my name tumbled from him. He was still staring at my discolored flesh.
“I’m fine, it’s nothing.” Trying to back away on a trampoline was a nightmare, I was unsuccessful, but I tried. My black T-shirt was gathered in his hands, his stunned inspection continued to linger on me. The look on his face, the crumpling of his brow, the narrowing of eyes and twitching of lips was sheer torture.
Examining eyes drifted from the injured area for a brief second as he gulped, “Fine?” In return, his heated, enraged scrutiny was replaced on my exposed flesh. “This is not fine, darlin’. This couldn’t be further away from fine if you tried. Wh–what…” Even the warmth of his fingertips set and tracing the border of the marred area had me cringing. “Darlin’, please…”
I was licking my lips when he looked me in the eye. Worry, alarm, confusion…it was all there staring back at me on the bobbing waves as they shimmered before me…for me. If only he knew the reason why, I thought to myself.
If I began to believe my lies myself, others would believe me, too.
“I’m okay,” I breathed with faux conviction, forcing my lips into a wistful smile. The lone tear seeping down my cheek, however, was surely betraying me. “Can you take me home please?”
He nodded his head in agreement, releasing the material in his grasp, taking extra care to cover me up. “Sure.”
We sat for minutes in the pick-up alongside the sidewalk outside my house. The silence was stifling. I didn’t want this. This was a sure way to lead into something that I didn’t want, something which I couldn’t handle: pity. Living each day of my life knowing that someone out there who knew me was actually pitying me, was the worst punishment I could receive.
Walker was rubbing the pad of his right thumb down the center of his upper lip when finally, silence was extinguished. “Kady––” In the periphery of my vision, I saw him turn to face me while my ears were graced with the creaking of his leather jacket. The same courtesy was repaid as I wrenched my head in his direction. And there it was…pity. Unspoken knowledge. A knowledge which I knew if admitted, would be the final nail in my coffin.
“Don’t––” I halted his words as he opened his mouth to say something.
“Don’t what, darlin’?” he gasped, affronted. “Don’t worry about you? Don’t care about you? I wouldn’t be fucking human if I saw something like that on someone I fucking care about, and not be fucking concerned.”
The tartness of his words had me hanging my head and my fingers unconsciously began to rub the tiny teddy bear on my bracelet.
Under his breath, he chided himself. Before I knew it, he shifted along the bench, closing the distance, and my head was coaxed up by the insistence of his finger under my chin. “I care about you, Kady. I’m sorry that I come from a family where affection and respect is mutual and given freely and basked in. You don’t do this to––”
Somehow, I succeeded to choke out the word, “Stop,” before he went any further with that statement and there was no turning back for me. Vision clouded and drowning with repressed tears, I watched as his gorgeous, caring face scrunched into a scowl as he shook his head, baffled. “Don’t look at me like that or say another word.”
“Why? I just want to help.” A rolling tear from under my eye was brushed away by a gentle, tender hand before he cradled my cheek. He grimaced, a gasp ousted, as his thumb traced the relics of my split lip and I could see in his eyes he was putting two and two together. I never in my life wanted someone to come out with forty-three so badly.
I was unsure whether it was my own tears I was fighting to curb that was making the depths of his eyes shimmer, or whether they were shimmering as he curbed his own emotions.
I think over time, you become, not accustomed per se, but you can understand in your own little twisted way the reasons for why you deserve the beatings. You make excuses for their behavior, it’s easy to discount, easy to justify in your own way. But when an outsider sees it, acknowledges it…you can’t hide from it any longer.
“I ask you not to say anything, because if you do, you’ll have a way of finally convincing me that I didn’t deserve this, and then I have to accept the reality of what this actually is.”
Shifting in the seat, I went to pull the release of the door when Walker asked if I wanted him to join me and watch a movie, maybe order some takeout. But I knew it was the pity talking. I shook my head, muttering, “I just want to be on my own,” and ejected myself from the truck, slamming the door shut behind me.
“Kady,” I tuned on my heel as he called my name, that tongue of his rolling over the ‘D’ yet again. I was getting used to being called Katy by him now. As I looked back I saw he was stretched over the seat, left arm resting on the steering wheel. “Happy birthday,” he called, his voice journeying from the lowered window.
Peeking down at my right wrist, and the silver bracelet which adorned it, I smiled. “Thank you,” I breathed, before making my way up the front steps and into an empty house to spend the remainder of my birthday fighting a voice that was screaming for my attention.
Its name was, Truth.
Chapter Nineteen
The remainder of the evening I spent puttering around the house, polishing, tidying, anything I could think of to stop myself replaying the conversation Walker and I had engaged in while in the truck, along with that tempting voice whispering obscenities of how stupid I was for not listening to it when it only wanted to help me. I cooked some pasta and covered it with a generous helping of cheese, which I was surely going to pay for. Still, the time was ticking at a snail’s pace.
It was 8:45 p.m. w
hen I decided to run a bath. We’d lived there for five, nearly six months, yet the tub still went unused. I should’ve known it was going to be a mistake as soon as I had begun running it. Draining the oils under the faucet, I watched dazed as it fused with the cascading water, the foamy bubbles materializing almost immediately.
I’d slipped out of my clothing, lowered myself into the foam and rested my head back against the side, allowing the diminutive bobbing and swaying of the waves to manipulate my heavy arms into weightless limbs. It was when a void in the bubbles appeared as I gathered them in my arms, giving me an unobstructed view of the sight I had avoided placing my eyes on for quite some time, that had my lungs ripped of breath.
Bronzed flesh colored with a plastering of black, purple, reds and yellow, caused my stomach to constrict and my heart…my heart was shattering. I knew because I could feel the splinters it was leaving in my chest as I recalled that Friday morning, just eleven days ago.
How can someone who says they love you, do that to you? The voice in my head whispered, while the voice of denial and justification told me, that if he didn’t lash out after my accusation, it would have been a sure sign that my insinuation was indeed one of fact.
The knot in my gut was weighing me down. To avoid from drowning, I stepped out of the tub. If only I could have admitted that it wasn’t water I was going to drown in.
Body wrapped in the warmth of a fluffy towel, I made my way through to the bedroom and into the walk-in-closet. It was when I started tugging on some pink yoga pants and a red camisole that I heard a faint beep. What the fuck was that? Listening intently, I heard it again. It appeared to be sounding from Liam’s rails.
I began rummaging through his suit jackets, the beep got louder as I approached his black Armani. My eyes widened in surprise as my hand dipped into his breast pocket and my cellphone was fished out. I’d been wondering for days where it had been hiding. And it was beeping because the battery was almost at zero.
I strolled down the stairs and surfaced in the kitchen, where I pulled the spare drawer open that housed the chargers and odd bits and bobs. The batteries continuation of its dramatic demise ceased when I hooked it up to the charger. I pulled up a message informing me of one voice message. With the handset connected to the charging cable, I dialed my voicemail.