The Hurricane

by R. J. Prescott

  “And the rape? How’re you going to make that disappear?” I panted.

  “Oh, you were raped all right...but by some boy you’d been hooking up with. Understandable, really, given the slutty way you were dressed when you left. You tried pinning it on me because you were pissed at my efforts to instil some discipline. At least that’s the account your mother gave to the police.”

  “You should walk away, Frank. I’m not a minor anymore. I’m a married woman. Any power you had over me is long gone.”

  I could tell from the look on his face that I was making a mistake. That didn’t stop me from doing it. Every time I mouthed back, or stood up for myself, I was wrestling a little more control away from Frank. The only way he knew to take it back was to punish me.

  “So, you’d leave your mother to take your punishment, would you?” he sneered.

  “My mother died the day she walked away and let you rape me.”

  “You fucking bitch,” he roared, rearing up and kicking me in the thigh again. It bloody hurt but another hit in the torso would have knocked me out, maybe even killed me.

  “It wasn’t rape. It was you being taught a lesson, and we both know you wanted it.”

  “Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that,” I mumbled.

  He lifted up the knife again and held it up to my face.

  “Let me tell you how this is going to go. You and I are going to that stink hole of a gym you’ve been whoring yourself at. I’ve been watching it for days, and they haven’t opened it since you left. You’re going to clear out your stuff and leave a letter explaining that you were never cut out to live in such shitty circumstances. You’ll ask everyone to respect your wishes and leave you alone. When we get back, you’ll admit to the police that you cried wolf, and you’ll move back home.”

  “If I don’t?” I taunted back.

  The knife was right under my nose, and from the look in his eyes, I could see he was itching to use it.

  “Then I’ll stick this in Cormac O’Connell then Danny Driscoll, and I’ll keep going until I find someone who makes you listen.”

  That woke me up. I had no problem using the knife on Frank, but I couldn’t have him touching the people I had loved before I had a chance to do it.

  “Okay,” I said quietly, trying to feign defeat. “Let’s just get this over with.”

  “Patience, princess. We’ll wait until this evening. Then we’re gone. I thought I’d have more time, but those little shits are relentless. I need to shut this down now and get you home.”

  He’d be lucky if I was still conscious by then. I was in a pretty bad way, and I needed a hospital, not that he’d noticed. He seemed to keep himself busy for the rest of the day. Occasionally, I could hear him on the phone in another room, though I couldn’t make out what he was saying. From time to time, he brought me water. The first time, I was so parched I gulped it down thirstily. Then cried out in agony when it hit my stomach and I vomited violently. After that, I learned to sip it. The relief it brought was tempered by the pain I endured every time I swallowed.

  As soon as Frank left the room, I allowed my delirious mind to drift back to O’Connell. I turned my face on the pillow, which was stained with my blood. I could see him lying next to me, grinning his cocky, panty-dropping grin.

  “Hey, baby,” he said.

  Silent tears ran down my cheeks as I answered him.

  “You’re here,” I whispered.

  “Never left, sunshine. I need you to do something, okay? This is really important.” His grin gone, he looked at me earnestly.

  “You need to hold on. I know it hurts, but I’m coming for you. I just need you to hold on a little longer for me. Can you do that?”

  “It hurts really bad,” I answered, through my tears.

  “I know it does. Remember, I’ve taken a hit or too meself.” He paused to wipe away a tear with his thumb, sounding a little more Irish than usual.

  “But you promised me you wouldn’t run again. You promised you’d stay and fight for me.”

  “I don’t think this counts as running,” I answered.

  “It does in my book. You die on me, and I’ll be fucking pissed. So, you stay and fight for me. Promise me.”

  “I promise.” I smiled as I tried to reassure him.

  I was absolutely petrified, but everything was better having him here with me. His face was the most beautiful face I’d ever seen, and it gave me a little bit of peace.

  “You have pretty eyes,” I mumbled, randomly.

  “Well, I promise to pass them to our kids. You just make sure you live long enough to give me some.”

  “I’ll do my best,” I whispered.

  “Good girl. Now sleep, baby. I’ll see you soon.”

  Frank came for me when the sun had set. When I opened my eyes, that beautiful face was gone.

  I PROTESTED WHEN FRANK RAISED MY SLEEVE, wrapped something around my arm and tapped for a vein.

  “No. I don’t want it. Stop,” I groaned, but he was too strong, and I was still tied down.

  “It’s just a little something to get you up and moving. It’s only a small dose. I don’t need a zombie. You still have a letter to write,” he told me, as the injection went in my arm. After about ten minutes, the pain had faded enough for me to stand when he cut my restraints. We shuffled out of the door, and I saw I’d been held in a basement flat. I could see why he’d warned me not to scream. Houses along the street were packed closely together. If I screamed long enough, chances were that someone would have heard me. The street was empty as he pushed me toward his car, the knife still threateningly at my back. I contemplated making my stand now, but I couldn’t risk him getting pissed and going after my boys. I just needed to keep my eyes out for a weapon and make a move when I saw an opportunity.

  The drive to the gym was mercifully short, and it broke my heart to think about how close to O’Connell I’d been the whole time. Knowing my husband, he’d probably torn London apart looking for me. Frank double parked in the alley behind the gym. He blocked the other garages, but he wasn’t likely to get any bother at night. Most of the businesses around here were only open during the day. All the lights were out at Driscoll’s gym. Frank produced a set of keys, presumably swiped from my bag, and unlocked the back door that I never used because the alleyway was so creepy. The gym looked different in the dark, but the familiar smell felt like home. There was no time to reminisce, though. Frank was shoving me toward the office, knife in hand and he was in a hurry. When we got there, he turned on the desk lamp and pushed me roughly into the chair.

  “Now, write this fucking thing, and let’s get out of here,” he ordered, slapping some paper and a pen down on the desk in front of me. I picked up the pen shakily and contemplated what to write. The dirt and dried blood on my hand left smears on the pristine white paper. I pressed the pen down when a noise from the gym had us both looking up. None of the lights went on, but a shuffling sound preceded the door opening and in walked Danny. I was devastated. There was no way that Frank would let Danny walk away from this. Danny took in the scene and spoke to me softly.

  “All right there, sunshine. What’s happening here then?”

  “Nothing much, Danny,” I answered softly, as I slowly stood. “Just catching up on some paperwork.”

  Danny nodded, as though this was a perfectly reasonable explanation for what I was doing and the state that I was in. Frank’s gripped tightened painfully on my shoulder, but he let go when I stood.

  “Haven’t seen you for a while. Why don’t you come over and give me a hug.”

  I moved slowly, not looking anywhere but straight ahead.

  “That’s enough, Emily. We won’t need the letter anymore.”

  I turned around as Frank rushed toward us. He side stepped me and went for Danny. I stepped in front of him and raised my hands to push him away. Danny was the nearest thing I had to a dad, and there was no way that Frank was taking him from me.

  “No!” Danny screamed.
I stumbled and fell backwards onto the floor. Frank fell on top of me. As quickly as it happened, Frank muttered, “Fuck,” and staggered to his feet.

  Shoving Danny hard, he ran out of the door. I couldn’t believe how fast he was, given the amount of blood he’d lost. It felt like I was bathed in it.

  “You okay, Danny?” I asked.

  “I’m fine, baby girl. How ‘bout yourself?”

  “I’ve been better.” I chuckled, relieved beyond measure that Frank was gone and that Danny appeared to be unharmed.

  “You just stay with me, darlin’. Con is on his way.”

  He scrambled toward the desk, grabbed the phone, and dialled frantically.

  “It’s Danny Driscoll. She’s at the gym. I need an ambulance here now and get someone to tell Cormac O’Connell,” he barked.

  Slamming down the phone, he raced back to me. He couldn’t have been gone more than thirty seconds. I’d have waited a lot longer to hear the comfort of his voice.

  “Be careful,” I warned Danny. “Frank’s lost a lot of blood. He can’t be far. He’s still dangerous.”

  “It weren’t his blood, sunshine,” Danny told me grimly, his eyes wet with unshed tears. I followed his gaze downwards and saw the knife sticking out of my chest. He held my hand between his two, and I marvelled at how warm those weathered hands felt.

  “Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me,” I told him.

  “Not sure about that, darlin’. I don’t think you’d be lying here now if it weren’t for me.”

  I tutted in admonishment. “Frank would have found me anyway. You gave me a family. I haven’t had that in a really long time.”

  The cold had crept into every part of my body, but the pain seemed to be lessening.

  “Me, either,” he admitted, crying proper tears now.

  “Love you,” I whispered.

  “I love you, too, sunshine,” he replied, squeezing my hand. As I drifted off into the darkness, it reminded me that I wasn’t alone.

  THE INCESSANT BEEPING HURT MY EARS, and I wanted it to stop, but I couldn’t keep my eyes open. The pain in my chest throbbed and everything felt like an effort, even the tiny action of opening my eyes. The room around me was silent but for the beeping. After a minute or two, I felt the drugs pulling me back under, though I could still feel Danny’s gentle hand, warm in mine.

  THE SECOND TIME I CAME AROUND, things were much clearer, and the pain was much worse. O’Connell’s head rested on his arms beside me as he slept. Dark circles rimmed his eyes, and he was in desperate need of a good shave, but I was so glad to see him I could have wept. My hand felt heavy and sluggish, and raising it was like swimming through treacle. I did it anyway and ran my fingers slowly and comfortingly through his unkempt hair. After a few seconds, he woke, and looking up at me raised a smile.

  “You’re awake,” he said in awe, and I nodded.

  “Water,” I begged croakily.

  With shaking hands, he poured me a glass of water from the jug beside my bed and raised the straw to my parched lips. The cool, clear liquid was a balm to my burning throat, and I laid back on my pillow after a few sips, exhausted from the effort.

  “Danny?” I asked him, trying to talk as little as possible.

  “He’s fine, baby. We’re all fine.”

  He paused looking pained. Staring at my face, he looked desperately sad and as he started talking, I realised how much misplaced guilt he had been carrying while I was asleep.

  “I’m sorry, Em. I’m so fucking sorry. I should never have sent you off on your own to wait for me. I should have stayed by your side and protected you. My only job is to make sure you’re happy and protected, and I fucked it up.”

  It killed me to see him beat himself up like this, and in truth, I was in too much pain to say much.

  “Not your fault or mine. Just Frank’s. He would have killed you as soon as he saw you. Where is he?”

  “Police got him,” he said with contempt. “They’re remanding him in custody so they can add rape to the charges. He’s fucking lucky they got to him before I did.”

  I closed my eyes briefly, silently giving thanks that I wouldn’t have to worry about O’Connell being locked up. I tried hard to open my eyes when he called out my name, but I was already falling back into the darkness, and as I did, I could swear that he was crying.

  “WHAT’S WRONG, DOC. Why won’t she wake up?”

  “Mr. O’Connell. Your wife has only just been moved from intensive care. The fact that she has come around once is a good sign, but keeping her asleep is her body’s way of taking care of her while it repairs itself. The knife pierced her lung and only just missed the main artery. It’s likely that she’ll have respiratory problems for the rest of her life, and the road to recovery will be a long one. You’re very lucky that she’s still alive.”

  “I fucking know that, doc. What I want to know is when she’ll wake up!”

  “Con! For fuck’s sake, rein it in,” I heard Danny chastise him, and I could feel the anger radiating from O’Connell. I desperately wanted to calm him down, but I was trapped once again inside my own body.

  “I’m sorry, doc,” O’Connell apologised. “I can’t thank you enough for saving Em’s life. I’m just worried, that’s all. I need to hear her voice and feel her touch to know that everything’s okay.”

  “You will, Mr. O’Connell, but right now our biggest concern is the risk of infection. I know it’s crass to say, but you need to learn to be patient, and I mean it about the visitors. No more than two at any one time. I’ve lost count of how many times my nurses have evicted people from this young lady’s room.”

  Their conversation faded away. Be patient, baby, I’ll be there soon.

  DANNY WAS READING Moby Dick to me when I finally came around. I didn’t disturb him, content to let his raspy voice narrate the story for me. I imagined him as an old, Irish Captain Ahab. He glanced up to find me watching him and slammed the book shut.

  “Thank fuck for that.” He snorted. “I thought I was gonna be reading this shite for days.”

  “Moby Dick isn’t shite,” I whispered.

  “Whatever,” he mumbled.

  “It was in the waiting room, and they told us to keep talking to you in case you could hear, so I picked this shite to read so you’d wake up and tell me to stop.”

  I smiled at him and reached out my tired hand. He held it in his own, and I remembered his touch as one that kept me warm in the dark.

  “O’Connell?” I asked.

  “I convinced him to go and have a shower and a shave and something to eat. Course now he’ll be pissed that you woke up, and he wasn’t here.”

  “How long have I been here?”

  “’Bout a week, darlin’. The knife punctured your lung, and they had to operate. He missed your heart and a major artery, but your lung is in pretty bad shape. You got an infection straight off the back of the surgery, so it was touch and go for a while.”

  I lay there and just tried to process everything. I was in pain, confused, overwhelmed, and tired but, above all else, I was glad to be alive. Frank was behind bars now and between this and the rape, I doubted he’d get out of prison any time soon.

  “I knew you’d make it,” Danny mumbled, as he stared at the cover of the book. “I always said you were a fighter, and I wasn’t wrong. Besides, it wouldn’t be fair. You’re not supposed to outlive your kids, especially when they go trying to save your life. It wasn’t your time yet, sunshine, not with all of us keeping you here. We need you too much to let you go.”

  He continued to stare at the book with watery eyes, as he contemplated what could have happened. There was little I could say to console him, but I was alive, and that was all that mattered. Besides, my throat was burned up again from all the talking, and I needed to rest. Tapping his hand, I asked him, “Read to me until I fall asleep?”

  He rolled his eyes and sniffed, as he turned back the crinkled cover.

  “Call me Ishmael...
”

  OVER THE NEXT WEEK, I was never alone. Almost every time I woke up, O’Connell was there. On the rare occasions that he wasn’t, one or more of the boys would be there with me. Danny continued to read to me, and I knew he was secretly enjoying the book, because I caught him still reading when he thought I was asleep. I’d already asked Nikki to bring me a copy of The Color Purple ready for when we’d finished. If he didn’t like it, I’d let him pick the next one.

  Visiting hours didn’t apply to me and sensing that they were fighting a losing battle, the staff at the hospital gave me a private room so that we didn’t disturb the other patients. It was the same room that was currently staging poker night. Having no idea how to play and no interest in learning, I flicked through one of the stacks of magazines I’d been given and amused the guys by reading them all their horoscopes. The hospital’s ‘set in steel’ rule of only offering patients and not visitors tea or coffee hadn’t gone down well with Danny. He’d taken to charming the rounded, stern-faced, trolley lady into giving him his regular caffeine shot. Pushing the door open with his butt, he walked in carrying two coffees. Of course, I was still too sick to drink caffeine, but the trolley lady didn’t know that. So, he snagged an extra one for himself. O’Connell played cards with one hand, as he insisted on holding mine with his other one. He couldn’t bear to be in the same room and not touch me, like he was constantly reminding himself that I was still there. Watching everyone getting comfy, a thought occurred to me.

  “What’s happening about the Ramos fight?”

  The whole room stopped as all the boys turned to look at me.

  “Um... the fight is gonna be cancelled, Em. With everything that’s happened, there’s no way that Con will be in good enough shape to fight.”