The Soul That Redeems Me (The Forever Mine Series Book 3)

by H. J. Marshall

  Not that I would ever hurt Emily. At least, not intentionally.

  Leaning over to kiss her one more time, I laughed, “Well, which side of the bed do you sleep on?”

  “The left side,” she giggled, with a smile on her face.

  “Let me grab my pillow and I’ll be right back. Do you need to change or is that what you sleep in?” looking down at her sleep shorts and a tank top, her pebbled nipples visible through the material.

  “These are my pajamas but I can put something else on if there is a problem.” She began to fidget her hands.

  “What you have on is perfect, baby.” My voice grew deeper and my eyes tracked up and down her curvy body before landing on her beautiful face.

  “Okay.” She answered before she got up and began to pull the covers back and straighten the bed.

  I walked into my room and picked up my pillow, eyeing Jake sprawled out across my king-sized bed. “Lazy dog.” I smirked in his direction, his head popped up to look over his shoulder at me before tucking back in and rolling onto his back, his belly on full display.

  I walked back into Emily’s room and she had the sheets pulled back for me and the small lamp on her end table turned on, giving the entire room a warm, soft glow that highlighted her hazel eyes and made them dance in the near darkness. I placed my pillow down and crawled into bed, extending my arm across the king-sized bed.

  She turned off her lamp and rolled toward me, her small body curving into mine, her head rested on my chest and my arm wrapped around her body, molding her to me. With a deep exhale, I looked up at the ceiling and gave thanks for this simple chance to hold the love of my life in my arms. It wasn’t a few minutes later I felt her body weight increase slightly and her breathing even out, indicating she had fallen asleep.

  I glanced at the clock and realized it was only eleven o’clock. This time, a little over a year ago, I would have been getting ready to head to a club to see if I could pick up Miss Right Now. Now, I’m lying here, tucked in for sleep, no sex in sight… and I couldn’t be happier.

  I’d been sharing a bed with Emily for under a week when it happened. She faced away from me and in the middle of the night I heard her begin to whimper. I gently reached toward her, hoping to settle her when the thrashing started. I switched on the bedside lamp and softly talked to her as I reached out and began to stroke her head, hoping my touch would settle her bad dream.

  The words coming from her mouth as she fought her invisible demons broke my heart. ‘Stop” and “No’ were repeated over and over again in a soft voice, barely audible. Her head began to whip back and forth and she was fighting the covers, trying to get them off her. I couldn’t take her pain anymore, so I began to shake her, repeating her name and whispering words of affection, telling her how much I loved her before she snapped out of her nightmare and stared up at me, a look of horror on her face.

  I gently moved the hair off her face and stroked her head, looking down at her as she struggled to catch her breath. The look she gave me was a hard one to decipher. It was a mix of shame, embarrassment, and relief.

  “I’m sorry.” She looked away and reached up to wipe the tears from her eyes.

  “You have nothing to be sorry about, baby. Are you okay? Do you feel like talking about it?”

  “I thought I was getting better. I haven’t had a nightmare in almost a month and now they decide to start again. Will they ever stop?” She asked through tears as she sat up and I pulled her into my lap, her body nestling into mine as I rocked her back and forth, whispering how much I loved her and how strong she was.

  “Let’s go into the kitchen and make you something to drink. I’ll tell you a story, something that may help. I don’t know if it will but would you be willing to listen?” I asked her, wanting to get her out of the bed and away from the memories that haunt her when she sleeps.

  She nodded her head, so we walked to the kitchen, hand in hand, as Jake popped his head up to see where we were going, then went back to sleep on Emily’s side of the room, peacefully snoring once again.

  After making us both a cup of hot chocolate, we sat down and looked out at the city, the storm clouds starting to roll in. The view outside was as dreary as the emotions in the apartment. I knew she was reeling from the nightmare, and her shame over me witnessing it was something she was going to have to get past.

  I am here for the long haul and I will hold her through every nightmare and slay every demon she has. I had a little experience with this part of depression and mental illness so I began to tell her my story.

  “You remember I told you about my biological mom and her long line of abusive boyfriends?” she nodded into the room so I continued, “Up until I was eight years old if things got too bad at home or she ran off with another loser, I went to my Granny’s house. She was an amazing lady. Always made sure I had a stable environment and she even petitioned the courts to give her guardianship of me. Because of her age, they refused and it wasn’t long after that she passed away, a heart attack when she was on the way home from the grocery store. Mom and I went to the funeral and I felt like my world was over. The one stable person in my life was gone and I was so scared about what was going to happen to me. Where would I go when—not if—my Mom was admitted into the hospital again? The first time was six months after granny died. It seemed like, for a while, she was really trying to get her act together. We moved into granny’s house since she left it to me in her will and it was like we were a real family. No crazy, drunk assholes. Just Mom and me. I came home one day from school and I knew things had turned bad. The entire house was trashed, as in drawers emptied, couch flipped over, dishes on the floor kind of trashed.”

  I took a moment to gather my thoughts before I started again, all the while, Emily hadn’t said a word, only listened to my tale of woe with compassion, her eyes staring out the glass door, watching the rain begin to fall.

  “At first, I thought we had been robbed, then I saw my mother and I knew things were going to get bad. She had the crazed look in her eyes that she had when she was off her meds or doing drugs, probably both. She saw me and ran toward me, talking fast about how much money we could make working at flea markets on the weekends. The mess was from her looking for things to sell. She began to drag furniture out into the yard and she yelled at me to help her. It didn’t matter that it was freezing outside and she had no shoes on. She needed to get everything prepped when her latest boyfriend showed up to load the items in his truck. The neighbors next door saw what was going on and they called the police. When they arrived, Mom was placed on a 72-hour hold and I was placed with the Department of Family and Children Services. I begged them not to take me but since there wasn’t anyone else at the house to take care of me, I had to go to a foster home until she was able to come and get me.”

  I felt my palms sweating so I wiped them on my pants and stood up, needing to move while I finished my story. I found myself by the glass doors leading to the balcony. Looking out at the rain as it fell, I willed myself to tell her the one truth I have kept from everyone but my parents. I told them a few years after they adopted me and I started seeing a counselor shortly after that to handle my anger issues.

  “The first night I was there, I cried all night, wanting to go back home. I wanted my Mom, even if she was delusional.” Placing my hand on the glass, tracking the sliding raindrops down the pane of glass, I felt the words start to tumble out. “The second night I was there, their teenage son came into my room. At first, I didn’t understand what he was doing in my room. That was their rule, everyone in their own room at night. They only had a few foster kids at a time and they had a huge house. Their room was on one side and all the kid’s rooms were on the other. He…he crawled into my bed and began to touch me, intimately. I was barely nine years old and I was already feeling the stirrings that come with puberty so when I, well, he…”

  I felt her small hand come up to my back and she gently rubbed me, allowing her strength to speak without a wor
d. I leaned my head against the cool glass and looked out onto the city.

  “I knew it was wrong to let him touch me but it felt good, in a strange way. He had me touch him but I got scared and tried to stop, to tell him no. He took my refusal as a sign to take what he wanted so he forced me to perform…”

  “Stop, baby. You don’t have to tell me anything else.” She said with tears choking her voice.

  “He came into my room for almost two weeks while my mother was evaluated, medicated, and deemed fit to take care of me. Every night, he made me do that to him and he would do it to me, never anything more. I felt dirty and used but I still let it happen. I wanted him to stop but he came back night after night, always demanding I do it again and I never fought back. After my Mom was able to get me, I told the social worker who told me that ‘I must be mistaken about what happened.’ I didn’t tell my Mom because it would have sent her on a spiral and I had just gotten her back. After that, I hid from the social worker or just took off when I saw the lights of the cop cars coming. I knew where they would take her and I would follow, sometimes having to steal for bus fare. I was determined to not go back into the foster system. And for years after, I had nightmares. Each one a vivid retelling of what happened and it was only after I told my parents what occurred, did they get better. I know you talk to Dr. Sawyer but you can talk to me. I promise I understand.” I finished as she wrapped her arms around my waist and we held each other. The truth was out and we allowed the tears to continue as the rain fell, washing away the night and ushering in a new day.

  Listening to him tell me his story breaks my heart for him and what he endured. I suddenly understood Josh and the way he is toward others. He knows what it’s like to carry a secret or a heavy burden. I’m glad he trusted his parents enough to tell them what he suffered through and that he was able to get better and move past his shame.

  I was still wallowing in mine and didn’t know how to get past it. I had finally told Dr. Sawyer a few months ago when I had decided to move out and the feeling of relief was instantaneous. My mother was the only one who knew what happened, her keeping my secret to save my father and brother the heartache of knowing how bad it truly was.

  They both assumed they understood what occurred but it was the after effects that I struggled with. I heard my inner voice telling me now was the time to tell Josh. If the relationship got more serious, he deserved to know so he could decide if he wanted to stay with me or leave. I didn’t think he would leave me but that tiny voice also had horns, and it liked to tell me how no man would want me after they found out.

  We continued to embrace, the rain still falling over the city as the first signs of the new day began to show in the sky. I slowly pulled back and looked up into his captivating eyes when he leaned over and kissed me. His strong lips against mine reflected our feelings for each other.

  “I love you.” I said to him. I needed him to know how I felt before I sat him down and laid my shame out at his feet.

  “I love you too. I hope you can understand just how much,” he replied, as he kissed my forehead and pulled my body against his, my hand resting over his heart.

  I pulled back from the embrace and gently guided him by the hand to the couch, sitting down and pulling my legs underneath me. He sat down next to me and looked at me with a face full of apprehension.

  “Do you think less of me for what happened?” he asked, and I immediately shook my head in a violent manner, my anger starting to rise, him thinking anything could make him less in my eyes.

  “You were raped and I would never think less of you for something like that. Do you think less of me for what happened to me?” Needing to hear his feelings, even though I already knew what they were.

  He placed his hand around my jaw, cupping my face as he looked me in the eye and said, “Nothing could ever make me think less of you. Nothing. I love you, Emily. You are my forever.”

  Tears filled my eyes, distorting his appearance as I collected my thoughts and gave him a watery smile. It was time to tell him and I prayed he would still feel the same way when I finished.

  “The nightmare is always different, always difficult to experience, and when I wake up, I usually feel like I have run a marathon.” I take a deep breath and blow it out, adjusting my body so it faced his. I needed him to keep me grounded, so I took his hands into mine and I continued, “You know some of what I went through so there’s no need to repeat all that, if that’s okay.” A simple head nod is his response. “I had surgery that night it happened. My arm was broken when I tried to escape. He slammed it inside the door, breaking my arm and making it nearly impossible for me to keep fighting back. I fought him up until that point but the pain was so intense, I blackout out for a minute. When I woke up, he was…he was…”

  “You don’t have to say it,” his voice almost pleading for me not to tell him.

  With a trembling voice, full of conviction, I carried on, “I woke up when he was raping me. He had torn my clothes and had me pinned in the back seat of his car, the sound of rushing water all around us. I screamed for him to stop but he got this look in his eyes that let me know he was whacked out on something that had him out of his mind. I kept yelling and somehow I was able to start scratching him with my good arm, trying to get him to stop, hoping to make it end.” I took a pause and wiped the tears from my eyes, never quite making eye contact with him. I gently rubbed my tattoo, the familiar ache of the rod reminding me of what I survived. “He had a taser and he hit me with it at least two times that the doctors at the hospital could prove. The jolt from one of those things scrambles your brain a little and I didn’t understand what was going on. The next thing I know, he is trying to make me have an orgasm. Like if he could give me pleasure, I was somehow okay with the whole thing. His words telling me how dirty I was, calling me a whore, telling me I was begging for it. I never met him but he was acting like I was a someone who had denied him something. He…he managed to make it happen, to a small degree, and that was all it took for him to start hitting and slapping me. A flip had switched in him and he was now treating me like I had personally wronged him. None of it made any sense, then or now.” I shrugged but kept talking, “when he finished, he dragged me back into the front seat and started driving again. The sound of water was confusing me and I had no idea where we were or what his plans for me were. My eyes were starting to swell and the last thing I remember before waking up in the hospital was driving on an overgrown road that connected near one of the bridges and he was driving back into Georgia.”

  “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry you had to experience such horrible things.” He leaned over and wiped my tears before kissing me on the forehead.

  “There is one thing that only my mother and two doctors know. Something that is always in my dreams, the thing I can’t get away from. I want it to stop haunting me but I’m afraid it never will. I need for you to know but before I tell you, I want you to know that if you can’t handle being with me after you know, I completely understand. Really I do.” Squeezing his hand and giving him a small smile.

  “Nothing changes between us, baby. Nothing. I love you and I’m not going anywhere.”

  Nodding my head, I continued, “When we moved to New Orleans a month after the attack, I was feeling pretty shitty. No energy, the pain meds were making me sleep, my appetite was gone and suddenly I started throwing up. Every morning for over a week, I got sick and I was struggling to comprehend what the problem was. Chalking it up to the meds and overall depression, I didn’t say anything to my family. They were worried enough, and I hated that we had to uproot our lives because of what that sadist did to me. My Mom finally caught me hobbling to the bathroom to get sick, when I confessed what was going on. She took me to the doctor that afternoon and it turns out the Plan B they gave me at the emergency room didn’t work. I was pregnant with that monsters’ baby and I lost all control. I begged my mother and the doctor to take care of it. I couldn’t…I couldn’t…have his baby. I wouldn’t. Th
ey performed the abortion that day and I went home. My Mom lied to my Dad and brother, telling them something else, to distract them from the fact that I had just killed my baby.” I sobbed as he engulfed me in a hug.

  I allowed the shame to purge from me while he stroked my hair and I felt drops of our tears falling, his strong body shuddering around me. We had both filleted ourselves and him not pushing me away gave me a small amount of hope.

  “Do you hate me?” I asked with a stuttering breath.

  His arms squeezed me tighter as his thick voice whispered above me, “I love you. Forever. You did what you had to do when faced with an impossible decision. I understand why you did what you did and we never have to speak about it again. You. Did. Nothing. Wrong.” Each word punctuated with a soft kiss on the top of my head as my face was still resting against his strong, tattooed chest.

  I looked up at him through watery eyes and was met with a look of love and forgiveness that made my heart skip a beat. Feeling lighter after telling him, I reached up and placed a gentle kiss on his lips before pulling back. Now was not the time to take this any further. The pain we both shared was enough to kill any sexual desires, but I hoped we would be able to move past this and onto better days.

  I felt a cold nose nudge my hand and looked down to see Jake had placed himself at my feet, his soft head laying on my lap. I scratched behind his ears and look out at the falling rain, the sun fully up, hidden behind the puffy clouds.

  “I’m taking today off work. What classes do you have today?” Josh’s voice cut through the silence and made me smile.

  “No class today. I took my final for that class last week since I had already finished the online work and turned in my final paper. My next final is Thursday in class and one Friday online. Then I’m done. Why? What’s the plan?”