Rough Love

by Laura Morgan

  ***

  Saturday 26th July 2014,

  I called things off with L, I had to. I don’t think I can ever face him again. After another row with Dad last night I was so enraged that I let slip about a boyfriend outside the club. He demanded to know who he was but I’m no fool. I know I’d never see him again. I knew Dad would send his guys to hurt him, or worse, kill him. I cannot have L’s death on my conscience. My heart is broken but I’ll do what’s right by him now even if it kills me. Even Nico tried to reason with me, and I know Tobin is his best friend, but fuck, it seemed like he had another agenda for wanting him in the VP’s chair.

  I stood my ground regardless, which was when Dad showed me just what a monster he could really be. What puppetry he was capable of. He taught me a terrible lesson after our row last night, one I will never forget as long as I live and I’ll hate him forever for it.

  I was fast asleep in bed when I heard my bedroom door open but it was so dark that I couldn’t see a thing. I called out, asking who was there, but all I could hear was someone undressing slowly. He took his time, carefully folding each piece of clothing before setting down his belt and leathers in some strange and OCD neat pile I could see by the window. My guest then said nothing as he climbed onto the bed and began pawing at me. He had to have been told to do it. Why else would someone think of sneaking into my room in the dead of night? I’d always been safe here before, but not any more. Not after last night.

  I tried to run away but he pinned me down. I tried to fight but it was no use. He beat me so badly I was barely lucid and then raped me. God, I can’t believe I’m actually admitting it, but I know that’s what it was. I’m just calling him X in my mind, unable to put any face to him yet because it was pitch black when he did it and not once did he utter so much as one word. He simply took what he’d come for and then left. Punishment in its most primal, brutish form.

  I want to curl up in a ball and fade away. I’ve cried all day, showered God knows how many times, and stayed locked in my room this entire time. I can’t bear to see anyone. I know it must be one of the club members but I don’t know which one. Maybe it was even Tobin, I just don’t know.

  ***

  I burst into tears, I couldn’t believe what I was reading and felt as though I wanted to be sick. Could it have been Tobin? He had done a similar thing in coming to my room that first night, but he’d backed off and waited for me to come around rather than ever force me. He had downright promised never to push me and I trusted him. Surely he wasn’t the person who had raped Dita in her own bed? No way. Please God, I thought, make it not have been him.

  And then there was my father. Had he really instigated the entire thing to teach her a lesson? I couldn’t bring myself to believe it. No way would he allow that. No chance in hell could he have let that happen to her. I had to believe he knew nothing about it. For my own sanity, I had to trust in him, even if I was on the fence after Dita’s awful testimony.

  Although I hated it, I opened the next entry and read on. I had to know for sure just what happened to my poor sister while I stayed oblivious to all of it in my little bubble.

  ***

  Monday 28th July 2014,

  X came to my room again last night. It was the same routine of darkness and silence before him forcing me into submission while he had his way. I begged and cried for him to stop but he wouldn’t. He took me so roughly I started to bleed, but that still didn’t stop him. I can’t understand what satisfaction he can be getting from this, or his reasons for coming back. I’ve been hiding away all weekend so don’t understand why I’m still being punished.

  I don’t feel safe in my own home anymore, but Dad won’t let me leave and I can’t trust anyone in here. All I can do is hide away and grieve for L. For what we had and could have gone on to have together. It’s gone now. All of my hopes and dreams have been shattered. I feel so broken, and maybe that’s the point?

  ***

  There weren’t any more entries for over a week and I dreaded to think what Dita must have been through in that time, because her entire outlook was different by her next entry. She’d been defeated. If she thought she’d been broken before, she was even worse in the entries that’d followed and my heart ached for her, wishing I’d have known and could’ve helped her. If only I’d realised. If only I’d cared enough to notice her despair. I hung my head and cried for her, fighting the urge to scream and wail.

  ***

  Wednesday 6th August 2014,

  I woke up to find my dad sitting on the bed beside me. I was naked under the sheet, curled into a ball but my back was showing and I knew he could see all my bruises. He didn’t say a word. He just sat there while I cried, sobbing so hard I couldn’t breathe. I begged him to stop punishing me and he agreed, on one condition—Tobin. I’ve known for a few days now that my midnight guest was not Dad’s new VP and I was relieved, but at the same time it sickened me even more to discover who Dad was using to send me my awful message. X is someone I know, someone I’ve trusted for years. I’m such a fool.

  I said yes to being with Tobin. Anything is better than this. So, when he left I got showered, dressed and headed down for breakfast with the family at his request. I plastered on the fakest smile I could muster and walked in with my head held high. It was the first time anyone had seen me in days and yet no one even asked where I had been the last week or so, either having been fed lies or they simply didn’t care. Nico could barely even look at me.

  While sitting there, I had to force myself not to lash out and run for the door, especially while watching X talking, laughing, and having fun with my brothers and baby sister. She was laughing at his jokes, and grinning up at him like he was one of the nicest guys she’d ever known, when in reality she was standing with a monster. A sick, evil, and twisted monster that now haunts my thoughts day and night.

  I decided to take a leaf out of Dahlia’s book and stay quiet, and it seemed to work. Dad said he’s gonna give me a few days to get used to the idea and then I need to give myself to Tobin, he’s ready for me now but Dad apparently told him I’m on my period so wanted to wait.

  When did I become this person? Oh yeah, just a couple of weeks ago, thanks to X. Night number one started it all and then he’s chipped away at me every day since. Even the thought of having sex disgusts me, I just hope that Tobin will be patient and gentle with me when the time finally comes.

  ***

  I read the entry with bleary eyes, feeling both relief and horror at the revelations Dita had made. Tobin wasn’t the man who’d repeatedly hurt her and forced himself on her, but someone else close to me was.

  She said I knew him and trusted him. I realised I probably still did, and yet he was the vilest man I could imagine. The worst type of monster, hiding in plain sight without a care or any guilt for what he’d done.

  I couldn’t believe our father had gone to her and hadn’t denied any of it. How could he have treated Dita like that? Letting her be abused under his roof to send her a message? It was downright criminal in itself and I found myself hating him. Wishing he was there at the clubhouse with me so I could confront him.

  Who was I kidding? I knew I could never stand up to my father like that. I was weak back when Dita was going through all of her pain and I was still weak while reading her accounts of what’d happened. I couldn’t take on the club, or my dad. He had me exactly where he wanted me, so at least I knew a little of how Dita felt, but wished I might never suffer the wrath she had experienced. The torment she’d had to endure.

  I hoped that was the end of X and his cruelty. I hoped the next entries would be happier and full of kind words about Tobin and their romance. There was no jealousy now. I wanted to read how she’d fallen madly in love and lived happily ever after, but I knew how that hadn’t happened. I just had to hope X had nothing to do with that either.

  ***

  Sunday 10th August 2014,

  X hasn’t been to my room since Tuesday like my dad promised and so las
t night I went to Tobin’s room after church and waited for him to come up. He seemed surprised to see me, but glad, and we talked for a while. He wants me. He really seems like he does and is such a gentleman that I had sex with him. I didn’t cry or push him away, but I did screw my eyes shut as I moaned like I was having the time of my life—when I was far from it. He didn’t hurt me or anything. I just can’t seem to associate sex with pleasure right now but he seemed to buy it and I’m giving acting my best shot.

  I’ve been loud, playful, opinionated and stubborn, just like the old me, but now it isn’t real. It’s all a front to hide how broken I am and so far it’s working. We spent all day with the club and were congratulated for getting together, even X came and hugged me, that bastard, and it was all I could do not to kick him in the balls there and then.

  I have decided to give this thing with Tobin everything I’ve got and hope for the best. There’s no going back to L. Not now. Not ever. The club owns me. My dad owns me. I guess it just took me a long time to figure that out.

  ***

  An overwhelming urge to ring my dad and give him a piece of my mind came over me in that moment. God, he truly was a bad man. I clearly had never seen that side of him before. I hadn’t needed to until that one night when he sent my brothers to make sure I gave up my virginity to the only man he deemed worthy of his daughter’s hand in marriage. I had been traumatised by what had transpired that night but my start with Tobin was far different to Dita’s, and I wished she were with me so that I could hug her and tell her I was sorry.

  It didn’t matter that I had been younger then. I should’ve noticed and protected my sister. Our brother’s should have done something to stop him and X from breaking her down. They should’ve taken better care of her but they hadn’t. I hated every one and everything in that moment and was suddenly even gladder that I was alone. I had to stop my hand from reaching for my phone so many times. Ideas for calls I ought to make and texts I should send to Dad or my brothers were filling my head, my anger driving me to feel confident enough to break my silence, but I knew it would do no good to rile any of them up. My father was clearly more of a force to be reckoned with than I’d realised, and I knew I had to be careful not to end up like Dita if I pushed him too far. Perhaps he didn’t know how to handle strong women so had taken her down the only way he knew how—intimidation and violent manipulation. It made me wonder how my mother had fared by his side all those years. Had he broken her too? I couldn’t even begin to let my mind wander of those awful imaginings.

  I had to move away from the vengeful thoughts in my head and decided to focus instead on the diary entries that followed Dita’s defeat. A quick skim over some more of her and Tobin’s first few days showed that she was hiding her pain from everyone, especially herself. She wrote about how happy and in love she was with Tobin and how he made her feel amazing, like no one else had ever done before. There were no mentions of L or X, just loved up ranting’s that were hard to read because they sounded very much like my own thoughts I’d been having about the very same man. About how wonderful and attentive he was, and how kind and gentle he could be while still being powerful and protective.

  Despite being glad that he was not X, I still wanted to vomit. Could I be following my sister down the same rabbit hole? Was I doomed to match her fate too?

  Chapter Nine

  Over the next few days, I forced myself to stay calm and refrain from texting or calling Dad or my brothers. I tried to stay as normal as possible with Tobin when he called, but it was hard to hide the pain I was feeling inside. During the nights when I could be alone in the office, I read the remainder of Dita’s journal-type documents. For a while, they were consistently positive and happy and even I began to believe that the days of her being taught a lesson by this X guy were behind her. She found her headstrong way again and some of that fire within she’d once had in abundance. By her own admittance, she and Tobin were far from perfect, but they were making it work. They bickered constantly and she always had to have the last word, but never disastrously, and never to the point at which she thought they might split up over it. They were happy together.

  Well, that was until around eight-months ago when things between her and Tobin seemed to cool off in a heartbeat.

  ***

  Saturday 27th February 2016,

  Tobin came back from a run early this morning. He thought I was asleep but I can never seem to drift off properly whenever I’m alone, not after the nightly visits that still haunt my dreams. Even a year on, every sound still makes me jump awake unless I know he’s asleep beside me and last night was no exception. I heard him come in around two-am, dump his bag, and head into the bathroom.

  I decided to surprise him and sprang out of bed to go and give him a kiss, but now I wish I hadn’t. Tobin was peeling off his dirty clothes and was standing naked by the shower, waiting for it to heat up, and he jumped and covered himself when he saw me, but it was too late. I saw the lipstick marks, and not on his face. He tried to say that it was nothing but I freaked out. I had a screaming head-fit and trashed the bathroom. God, I feel so stupid. He got the fuck out of our room and went down the hall to one of the spares with just a towel around his waist, leaving me there alone while I cried all night. I know some guys cheat when they’re away, but not him. He’s never cheated before and I feel so angry I can’t even look at him. I’ve stayed in my room all day and he hasn’t bothered to come and see me either, which just adds insult to injury.

  Dad stopped by, much to my delight. Not. He warned me against pushing Tobin away. He said that it was my fault he had strayed and that it was up to me to make sure he didn’t do it again. I screamed at him and told him to get the fuck out of my room. I couldn’t help myself, but now I’m sitting here wide-awake and refusing to sleep because I know what happens next and it’s making me feel sick. If X comes in here tonight I’m gonna do everything in my power to fight back. I’ll gouge his bloody eyes out if I have to, anything to make sure he doesn’t touch me again.

  ***

  I felt sick. Worried for her. Was our father going to send X in again? Would he resume her punishment like before so she’d be more acquiescent to his orders? I had to know. I had to find out the truth, whether it hurt or not.

  ***

  Sunday 29th February 2016,

  I slept through the day today, my whole sleep pattern completely messed up, and when I woke up Tobin was here. He apologised and we made up, mostly because I felt as though I had to. I knew he wanted us to be together again physically, but I just couldn’t let him touch me. He backed off when I asked if we could wait before having sex until I was over it and I appreciated that. He’s going out with some of the guys tonight and I’m doing the same. Karen and some of her friends are heading out for drinks and I’m sneaking out to go too, it’s been far too long. I need this. Some normality and to find the old me again.

  ***

  Monday 28th February 2016,

  Last night was amazing. When we were out I bumped into L of all people. Although things were weird at first, we ended up talking again and I apologised for pulling away before. He knew about me and Tobin, but told me how he’d straight away guessed that it was my dad’s idea for us to pair up. He just got it without me having to drag myself through the ringer telling him the truth. Like always, he was there for me and understood me in ways I couldn’t even begin to imagine. We slept together in the back of his car. I know I shouldn’t have, but it was just so right and I kinda needed the payback to Tobin. God, I hope he never finds out. I slept with him when I got home too and he didn’t seem to notice so I think it’s all going to be okay. He thinks I can’t get enough of him in the bedroom again, despite his unfaithfulness, and I now find myself playing up to the role, letting him believe whatever he wants. It’s easier to just do it than fight it anymore. When I close my eyes I imagine he’s L. That we’re together and making love. I’ll keep those memories safe in my heart, forever if I have to.

  ***<
br />
  I wished I knew who this L guy was. I wracked my brains trying to figure it out but I came up empty every time. There were no messages in her emails or chats from a guy with that name starting with that letter. Nothing remotely flirtatious or obvious in her older ones either and no photos hidden in secret folders of her laptop. The whole story seemed awful, the kind of thing you heard about in magazine articles but never from those you actually knew and loved. I couldn’t believe her life had been so awful and how none of us had even noticed. That she’d had to hide so much from us all in order to survive it.

  I vowed to read the rest of her entries before Tobin, Dad, and the others got back from wherever they had gone. I had to know the truth before I saw them again, even if it made me see them all in an incredibly different light.

  As I sat and read more about how Dita repeatedly sneaked away to see L, I began creeping up to the most recent document. I found nothing much more than her account of how she and Tobin were trying to rekindle things between them for appearances sake. She knew he was cheating on her over and over again, but had given up caring. Mostly because she was cheating too, with L. She started going out with her friends more and more, needing to be away from the club, my dad, and Tobin because she felt as though she was going mad around them.

  Then, an entry from just a month before she died made me cry so hard that I was almost sick.

  ***

  Saturday 10th September 2016,

  Tobin was really drunk tonight. He got so wasted that when I called him names and let off some steam he slapped me across the face. I knew I had pushed him, that neither of us loved each other and maybe never had, but I still couldn’t believe he hit me. Is this it now? Will my one split lip be the start of things to come, isn’t that what they say? Something about if they get away with it once they’ll always do it again? Well let me just add beaten wife to my wonderful remit.