by T L Swan
I lay down and pull her across my body so her head is on my arm and her top leg is thrown over mine. My hand runs aimlessly through her hair.
“How did you find I was gone?” she whispers.
I frown as I remember. “I was cold. It was so cold. I could hear the wind banging on something.”
She, too, frowns as she tries to visualise my words. “What time was this?”
“Dawn. It was foggy.”
She lies still as she listens.
“I thought you were in the bathroom and I went back to sleep. I could have saved you, but I went back to sleep.”
“Josh,” she whispers.
“The door kept banging and eventually it woke me up completely. I went looking for you.”
“Oh Josh. My heart aches for you,” She whispers. “I can’t imagine going through this.”
I hesitate; knowing the next part of the story is what upsets me. I can’t bear going back there. The lump in my throat forms and my chest tightens.
“Then what happened?” she prompts.
“I slipped.”
“You slipped?” she repeats.
I nod.
“God, Josh, your heart rate is racing. You’re back there, aren’t you? You relive this every night?” she whispers in horror.
My eyes mist over.
“Did you hurt yourself?”
“Huh?”
“When you slipped?”
“No,” I reply blankly.
“Was the deck wet?” she asks.
“I slipped on your blood.”
She gasps.
“There was blood everywhere,” I whisper.
She screws up her eyes in pain.
I feel perspiration start to wet me.
“There was so much blood and…” I hesitate as I realise that this might upset her further.
“Tell me,” she urges. “I’m ok and I want to hear this, Joshua.”
“There were drag marks in your blood, at the side of the boat.”
She closes her eyes in pain. “Holy fuck. This is horrific, no wonder you aren’t sleeping.”
I remain still, numb as the horror seeps through my body.
“What did you do?” she asks softly.
“I started to yell for you. I-I couldn’t find you.”
Her tears start to fall like a burst dam.
“Ben came.”
She frowns. “Where was Ben?”
“He heard me screaming.”
She closes her eyes again.
“We were diving under the water.”
“Josh,” she whispers. “It’s ok. I’m here, baby, I’m here.” She pulls me closer.
I shake my head. “But I couldn’t find you.” My voice is strained.
“Joshua.”
“I couldn’t remember, Natasha. I still can’t remember. I can’t stand the thought that I don’t remember something so significant.”
“It’s ok, Joshua, you were drugged.”
“No, it’s not ok. I should have protected you. I-I should have been able to protect you.” I stammer as my stress hits a new level.
She kisses my chest. “I’m alive. Everything is ok.”
We lie still for an extended time, both lost in our own thoughts.
“Tell me about prison.” She kisses my chest.
“It’s cold,” I reply flatly.
“What do you mean?”
“I would shiver at night because I was so cold.”
“Nicholas said you wanted to end your life when you were in there. Is that true?”
I’m still, deathly still as I relive the grief all over again. The lump in my throat hurts to swallow.
“It was a very dark time for me, Tash. I can’t explain how low I was.”
“Do you still have dark thoughts?
“No,” I reply without hesitation.
“I’m here, baby. I will never let you go.”
We cling onto each other so tightly, trying desperately to chase our demons away, and I know I need to escape this heavy feeling that hangs over me. I need to learn how to forget.
Natasha
“It’s 4:00 p.m. and the day has been long. I’m exhausted and we have hardly slept. Joshua and I talked for hours last night. He’s been to Hell and back. All the honesty eventually broke me down and I cried for hours.
I killed a woman.
I killed a woman I knew and I now realise that I have no idea how to deal with it. I feel like I should feel guilty, but I’m just relieved that I escaped. Joshua was furious when I finally opened up about Carl hitting me. He said he wished I had killed the monster. The sick thing is… I kind of wish I had, too. What kind of person have I turned into?
“Where do you want to live, Tash? We need to discuss this,” Joshua asks me.
I frown into the spaghetti on toast I am eating and I drag my hand down over my face in frustration. “I don’t know.”
“Do you want to go back to L.A.?”
“Yes.” I frown. “I told you I want to be close to Adrian, Cam and Didge. Did I tell you that Abbie is going home to Australia?”
“Ben told me.”
My eyes hold his. “Do you think that’s a good idea?” I ask.
He shrugs.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I don’t know,” he answers curtly.
I smirk. My man is tired and cranky like a child. Some things never change.
“I think maybe you’re right and we should get an apartment for a while.”
His eyes hold mine. “You don’t want to go home to our house?” he asks.
“No.” I stand and take my plate back to the sink. “I don’t think I ever will.”
He watches me but remains silent.
“People were in our house, Joshua, and we were filmed in our bed. There is no bigger invasion of privacy than that.”
He stays quiet as he thinks. We’ve never discussed this before, and even though I know he knows, he has never once asked about what was on the footage from our house.
“What did you see?” He replies.
That angry burn starts to scorch through my veins. “I watched us have sex in every damn position possible.”
He stays watching me.
“How many people do you think have watched the tapes?” I snap.
He purses his lips.
‘The police, Amelie, her helpers.” I raise an eyebrow.
His eyes drop.
“Anal.”
His eyes flick back up to mine.
“Yes, Josh. We were filmed having anal sex. We were filmed in every derogatory position you can imagine and it’s forever burned into my brain.”
“For fucks sake.” He growls as he runs his hands though his hair angrily.
“Can we stay at the hotel we stayed at when we got broken into for a little while when we get back?” I ask.
“Yes, of course,” he mutters, lost deep in thought.
Thunder claps loudly and my eyes drift to look out of the window. It’s getting dark and cloudy outside. My mind goes back to me walking in the forest after I escaped during the time before the impending storm. I was so desperate to find shelter before the rain started. The dark forest was so unwelcoming and I kept staring up at the sky, willing it to hold off. A cold chill runs down my spine as the memory becomes too real, too raw.
Stop it. It’s over.
It’s so cold. I walk into my bedroom and retrieve a woollen blanket from the end of our bed, wrapping it around me for protection. I’m hoping that by warming myself up it’s going to make the memory of being cold and petrified leave me. It thunders again and I sit down on the end of the lounge, bringing my feet up in front of me. Please, stop. Please don’t rain. My heart rate starts to pick up and my anxiety rises.
Joshua watches me. “You ok?” He frowns.
“I’m just tired,” I reply too quickly.
“We will have an early dinner and turn in.”
“Yes.”
The thunder rumbles
loudly and I jump. I get a flash of me sitting on the bed in the dark with a gun, staring out the window as the lightning flashed. The rain is hitting the window and my feet are hurting. I’m wearing clothes that are way too big and smell of camphor. I stand and walk to the bedroom. I need to get away from all of this.
More thunder.
I see myself breaking the glass with a rock to get into that house. I inhale deeply. God, stop it.
I sit on the end of the bed and close my eyes. Calm down, calm down. The heavy raindrops start to fall, and I feel my anxiety rise further.
“Natasha?” Joshua asks quietly as he comes after me. “Are you ok?”
“Yes, I’m fine,” I snap. Just leave me a fucking lone.
“Do you want a cup of tea?”
I nod. “Yes, please.” He walks back into the kitchen and the rain comes down – heavy torrential rain – and I feel tears swell in my eyes. The vision of waiting in that tin shed with a gun in the pouring rain takes over me. I hate this. I hate seeing this. Make it stop.
“Here.”
I look up in surprise to see Joshua is back with my tea already. I go to take it, but my hand is shaking.
Joshua watches my hand for a moment. “You are getting a migraine.” His voice is soft and caring.
I drop my head.
It continues to pelt down with rain and I scrunch up my face in pain as the vision of Amelie standing in front of me fills my head.
Joshua drops to sit next to me on the bed. “What is it, baby?”
I’m holding the gun at her and she’s goading me. I close my eyes to try and block it out.
“Tash, what’s wrong? Tell me what’s wrong.”
I shake my head and screw up my face. “I’m so sorry.”
“For what?”
“I didn’t mean to hurt her.”
Joshua wraps his arms around me. “Ssh.”
The lightning crashes again and I jump in his arms.
“Its ok, baby. Its ok,” he whispers.
I start to cry uncontrollably against Joshua’s chest as he holds me.
“You don’t have the guts.” Amelie sneers in my mind.
I feel myself lose control and pull the trigger three times.
She falls to the ground bleeding and my tortured eyes meet Joshua’s.
“I killed her.” I sob. “She died because of me.”
The noisy rain comes down and I cry even harder. “M-make it stop,” I stammer.
“Make the rain stop.”
“Baby, let’s get into the shower,” Joshua whispers.
I nod nervously.
“Natasha,” I hear Cameron yell from the front door.
“In here,” Joshua calls out.
Cameron walks in and his face drops. He sits on the other side of me on the bed. “Are you ok, babe?” he asks.
“No, she’s not,” Joshua answers for me.
“It’s the rain,” Cameron whispers.
“Huh?”
“It’s the rain. It’s making me think of it, too.”
“What do you mean?” Joshua asks.
“It was raining heavy for days when Natasha was running and hiding. The day with the…” He stops midsentence, unsure what to say.
Joshua squeezes me to his chest just that little bit harder.
“Make it stop, Cam,” I whisper through my tears.
The lightning crashes and I lose control, slapping my hands over my ears as I cower and curl into Joshua with fright.
“Jesus.” He holds me tight.
The lightning cracks again, and I cry out loud, holding my hands over my ears.
“Give her something!” Joshua snaps.
“Like what?”
“A fucking sedative.”
“I do have her migraine medication with me in case she needed it,” he replies.
I begin to cry out loud.
“Christ,” Cameron mutters as he stands.
“Fine. Hurry up.”
The last thing I remember is Cameron giving me a needle and Joshua carrying me to the shower. I fall into an almost zombie state as my brain tries to shut out the horror.
“It’s ok, Presh. I’m here. I’ve got you, baby.”
The horror of post-traumatic stress lives within me. I am sombre and I’m tired. I don’t now where I want to be, but I know it isn’t here, dealing with this.
The trip from the airport to the hotel our temporary home in L.A. – is made in complete silence. It’s 1am and Ben, who is driving, has just had an altercation with a photographer at the airport. He was only trying to protect me. The photographer tried to grab me to get his shot when Ben lost it, pushed him, sending the photographer flying until he fell over.
They will try and sue him, they always do.
Is this our new life?
Paparazzi will go into overdrive with the news that we have returned and will all be waiting for the first shots. What a mess. Joshua is wound up and nobody is speaking. After my little breakdown on Tuesday, I spent the next two days in bed with Cameron and Joshua fussing over me. Trying to will me back to life.
It worked… just.
Joshua has insisted that Cameron goes and stays with Adrian and Bridget for a few days. Cameron is struggling, too, and I know my husband is concerned for his beloved brother. We have all noticed that he hasn’t been his carefree self since we have been in Kamala. Cameron’s mind is preoccupied with regret. Could we have saved Amelie if we had done things differently? We will never get the chance to know now, and I think that’s half the battle: the feeling of helplessness we all share.
The finality of the situation.
We pull into the round driveway and Joshua leads me out of the car where an attendant is waiting.
“Mr. Stanton, this way.” He gestures with his hand to the elevator. Joshua and I nod gratefully. A long check in would be unbearable at this stage of the night. Two minutes later, and on the tenth floor, we follow the attendant down the corridor, eventually spotting our security all standing outside the doors to their apartments. I nod a silent thank you for their support.
“Hello.”
They smile as we walk past.
The porter opens the door of the room we had last time. I look in and smile, I have happy memories here and a certain hot kind of massage runs naked through my mind.
Joshua nods. “Thank you.”
The attendant hands over two key cards.
“Nobody can access this level though the lifts?” Joshua asks.
“No, sir. All access has been blocked and the fire stairs are locked from the other side.”
“We will have a guard on the front doors at all times,” Joshua instructs.
My heart sinks and I know my life will be different forever.
“Of course.” The attendant nods nervously.
“Thank you.” Joshua nods back.
“If there is anything else, sir, please call this number directly.” He hands over a business card with his personal details on it.
Joshua nods and holds his hand out in a get out of my fucking room gesture, and I bite my bottom lip to contain my smile.
Joshua closes the door, turns to me and takes me in his arms.
“I think I need to give my girl a massage.”
I inhale his scent. “Yes, Mr. Stanton. Yes, you do.”
Joshua
“Yes,” I answer my phone. We have been back in L.A. for three weeks and I am in work mode.
My eyes drift to Cameron who is lying on the lounge in my office, skimming through his phone.
“Hello, Mr. Stanton. The keys have arrived from the real estate.”
“Thank you, Tiffany. I’ll collect them from you shortly.”
Adrian walks in with a bundle of papers and starts to rearrange them to file away.
“Tell me about this guy again?” Cameron asks as he sits up onto his elbow.
“He’s a kid, only just eighteen.” Adrian sighs.
I blow out a breath, this could be the most stupid thing I
have ever done.
“So, let me get this straight. You meet some scummy kid in prison, and now you are giving him a job, an apartment and a car?” Cameron shakes his head in disgust.
“Yep, pretty much.”
“Don’t leave your wallets laying around, this is going to end fucking badly. You will come in one morning and your whole office will be cleaned out.” He smirks, clearly amused.
I sit back in my chair. “It could.”
“Why did you want me here? I don’t want to meet him.”
“Because I want you to help me with him.”
“The fuck I am.” He groans. “I want nothing to do with fucking criminals.”
I frown and inhale in frustration. “I think he’s a good kid, he just hasn’t had any opportunities.”
“What happened to you in prison? What are we, a fucking charity now?”
“No. Look, if he does one thing wrong, he goes back in. I paid his bail, I’m giving him a chance and if he fucks it up, I won’t make excuses for him.”
Adrian and Cameron look at each other, concerned. “He’s going to have to work hard. This isn’t a free ride.”
“What’s his name?” Adrian sighs.
I pick up the release papers on my desk and flick through them. “Jarvis.”
Adrian pouts. “Cool name.” He raises his eyebrows as if surprised.
I smirk.
Adrian narrows his eyes. “What is that look for?”
I shrug. “You two make out you are so gangster, but when it comes down to it, you’re both as soft as shit.”
“Fuck off,” Cameron mutters as he goes back to his phone. “I’m the king of gangster.”
“You still good for tonight?” I ask Cameron.
“Yes.” He sighs, annoyed.
Adrian and I smile at each other.
“And you will have to be there early to let them in.”
“I fucking know. Jesus Christ, you owe me some shit.”
I smile. “Thank you.”
A knock rings against the door. “Come in,” I yell.
Ben appears first, the small boy behind him looks petrified.
I smile and hold my hand out to shake his. “Jarvis, we meet again.”
He smiles. “Hey, fuck off.”
“Watch it.” Ben growls.
I smile at the private joke we have before my attention turns to Ben. “It’s ok, that’s what he calls me.”
Adrian’s face drops in horror. “Why would you call him that?”