Malt Me (Liquor Cabinet Series #1)

by D. L. Gallie

  It’s in this moment that something deep inside of me clicks; I decide I want to live. Today I will escape, if it’s the last thing that I do. If I want to get out of here alive I need to pretend to be the Juliet to his Romeo.

  God, I hope I can do this.

  Looking towards him I smile and whisper, “Clint, baby.”

  “Don’t call me baby, you lying whore. I saw you having coffee with that twat, right after you ripped my heart out. How long have you been screwing him, huh?” He is yelling now, seething with rage, “Where do I fit into this scenario, huh?” Between clenched teeth he hisses “You. Are. Mines.”

  I’m dumbfounded by what he is saying. “Clint,” I plead, “I’m not screwing him, or anyone else for that matter, Jordan and I are just friends.”

  He clenches his jaw and glares at me. “Don’t say that fucker’s name.” He looks towards the window before looking back at me. “I know you two are friends who fuck. What’s that called? Yeah, fuck buddies.”

  “No!” I scream. “Clint, I swear.” As the panic sets in, I start to cry again. I sniffle, “You are the only one I want to be with.”

  “Bullshit, you little slut. You’re just using me to bide your time. Bitches like you always do.”

  At this point I have no idea what’s going to happen but I need to do something quickly; otherwise I will be here forever. Clint sits on the side of the bed and looks down at me. He almost looks sad and I think this is my chance. I try and lift my hand to reach him, to sooth him but my hands are still bound. I take a deep breath and in my sweetest voice possible I whisper, “Do you think you can unlatch or loosen the cuff, please?” I look at him pleading, I try and lift my hand, but it barely moves. “Please, Clint, I need to make this up to you. I…I need to fix us.” I whisper before quickly adding, “I made a mistake breaking up with you, please, please forgive me? Let me fix this, baby, let me fix us.”

  He looks away before turning back to me and rubbing his hand down the side of my face. I try really hard not to flinch. “Do you really mean that?”

  I tilt my head into his palm. “Of course I do baby.” Inside I’m saying to myself, “You wish you fucking freak.”

  Again I plead with him, “Can you please uncuff my hands, so we can be together again?” Glancing up at him I bat my eyelids, hoping like hell that I don’t look like I’m having a fit.

  Dropping his hand from my cheek, he stands up. My heart sinks, but he pulls out a little brass key. He reaches across me and uncuffs both of my hands. I slowly sit up, rubbing my wrists. He bends down and cuts off the cable ties, holding my ankles together. I sit there staring at the floor, he sits down next to me and rubs my leg. Shivering from his touch, he assumes I’m cold. He takes off his shirt and slips it over my head; at least I’m not naked anymore.

  Looking towards him, I take a deep breath and murmur, “Thanks!” Leaning over, I pretend that I’m about to kiss him, but instead, I lunge for the knife on the tray. Grabbing the knife, I swing with everything that I have left. I manage to slash his face, and with all my might, I shove him off the bed. I swing back my leg, kick him in the stomach, turn and run.

  I make it out the front door and down the rickety wooden stairs. I run like I have never run before and I don’t stop. Huffing and puffing, my body aching, adrenalin, courses through my veins. I have no idea where I get the energy or the confidence from, but somehow I make it to the main road.

  After what feels like an eternity, I finally see a car. I turn around, waving my arms, yelling and screaming for them to stop. My waving becomes erratic, my arms flinging around above my head like a mad person. The SUV stops and a middle-aged gentleman gets out. He walks over to me and I collapse into his arms with relief. He holds me tight and calls triple zero.

  Holding me tight, he rubs my arms reassuringly. “My name is Trevor darling. Help is on the way.” I thank the powers above as Trevor is definitely my guardian angel.

  The police and ambulance arrive at the same time. The ambo lays me on the stretcher and looks me over. He cannot see any major injuries, but he is concerned that my cheekbone might be fractured. Due to the amount of swelling he cannot tell for sure. Again he tells me that I’m very lucky as none of my injuries are life threatening.

  The police question me as to what happened. I tell them what I remember. After I give them my statement, they return just as I’m being loaded into the back of the ambulance. They tell me that that a missing person’s report was filed, and they have someone contacting my family now. They inform me that they will meet me at the hospital. I start crying at the thought of seeing everyone again.

  Kenz just called me to tell me she was promoted today, I’m so proud of her. I’m also glad that my trip to Melbourne has been cancelled. I really don’t feel like going to meet these investors; my head just isn’t in it at the moment. All I can think about is our wedding and making Kenz, Mrs. Jordan McRoberts.

  Stopping at the bottle-o around the corner, I pick up a bottle of GH Mumm to surprise Kenz and celebrate her promotion; another reason I’m glad that my trip is postponed. As I’m driving up our street, I see Kenzie’s monstrosity of a purse and her jacket on the footpath. Pulling over, I stop and pick them up; immediately that sick feeling from earlier is back, with a vengeance.

  Quickly racing back to my car, I haul ass to our house but no one is home. There are a bunch of sunflowers sitting at the front door, but this time there is a card, its signed ‘Love, C,’ my heart immediately drops.

  I know that Clint has taken her.

  I’ve failed my beautiful Kenz when I promised to protect her.

  Grabbing the phone I call the police immediately. They send someone over, but it takes the officers an hour to get to our place. They tell me that Clint didn’t check in with his parole officer yesterday and with the flowers signed ‘Love, C’ they also think that Clint has taken Kenz. The assholes also ask if it could be a case of cold feet as we are getting married soon. I lose it with the officer, “My ass she has cold feet. She’s just as excited as I am for us to get married.”

  He apologises and says he had to ask; they need to cover all bases. They leave and tell me that they will be in touch.

  Standing in the kitchen, I yell, “Fuuuuck!” I stare at the pic of Kenz and I on the fridge, I say, “Fuck this, I know Clint has you baby, I will save you.”

  Snatching up my phone, I call Margaret and let her know what has happened. She tells me that she and Skye are on their way now. I tell them to drive safely and I’ll see them soon.

  Next, I call Mike and tell him what’s happened, and he tells me he will be over as soon as possible. Mike gets here ten minutes later, racing in the front door. “Dude, what the fuck is going on?” He takes a seat on the chaise, staring at me.

  Taking a deep breath, I fill him in on everything. “I’ve failed her again, Mike. What if I lose her? I can’t live without her.”

  “Kenz is one tough chick, if anyone can beat this, it’s our girl.”

  Mike quickly stand ups and says, “Let’s go for a drive and see if we can find her. I don’t know where to look but we can’t just sit around and do nothing.”

  “Sounds like a plan, Mike.” Standing up, I grab my keys but Mike stops me.

  “Okay, let’s go but asshat, I’m driving. You’re too worked up and we need to get there safely, for our girl.”

  I knew I could count on Mike.

  Mike and I drive around for hours but we don’t find her; I wasn’t holding out any hope that we would. By time we get back to our place, Margaret and Skye are waiting on the front steps. I wrap my arms around Margaret as she cries. I feel broken and lost right at this moment, I can only imagine how Margaret must feel.

  The next seven days are pure torture.

  I can’t eat.

  I can’t sleep.

  I just keep thinking about Kenz, hoping and praying she is safe.

  When we get the call to say she has been found, we are all so relieved. We race to the hospital to wait fo
r Kenzie to arrive. When I see her, my heart breaks into a million tiny shards.

  The girl in front of me is so broken.

  So fragile.

  So lost.

  I’ve just gotten settled in my room when there is a knock at the door, the officer from today is there and I introduce everyone. The officer tells me that the police searched the area, and they found the cabin but Clint was gone. They keep searching and looking for him but at this stage there is no trace of him. It’s like he vanished into thin air, if it weren’t for my injuries you’d think I made this up.

  A warrant for Clint’s arrest has been issued, and his parole terminated. They assure me that they are doing everything they can to find him.

  The next day, Clint is arrested when he tried to see me at the hospital. As soon as I heard he was here, I lost it. I was crying and screaming, fear coursing through my body. They had to sedate me to calm me down.

  Later that day, the officer popped by to let me know that Clint was formally charged with parole violation, assault, causing grievously bodily harm, criminal sexual conduct, violating a restraining order and kidnapping. He is to be remanded in custody as he is delusional and they fear he will be a menace to society; and me. I sigh in relief knowing he is locked up again.

  I’m kept in hospital for ten days due to the extent of my injuries and my mental state. My left cheekbone is fractured, I also have two broken ribs, four cracked ribs, five stitches to the laceration between my breasts and my lower intestine is torn from the anal penetration. Due to the savageness of the rape, there is also a high chance that I will not be able to conceive, but they are not a hundred percent sure.

  I’ve hardly spoken a word to anyone. I pretend to sleep most of the time, and when I’m alone I sob. I feel numb, broken and even though there is always someone around, I feel alone.

  When I’m released, I crawl into myself, and stay locked in our bedroom, only venturing out when I need the toilet. I only shower, eat, or drink when Mum, Jordan or Sarah make me. The rest of the time, I just lie in bed and stare at the ceiling.

  I’m not sleeping very much. Every time I close my eyes, I see his face. When I do fall asleep, I wake up screaming from the horrible nightmares. Every time I close my eyes, I relive it all over again. Someone always races in to soothe me, but I cannot stand to be touched at the moment, so it takes a while to calm me down.

  It’s been two weeks since I was released from the hospital, and I haven’t left the house. Whenever I get near the front door, I start to panic and run back to our room.

  My fear is heightened when corrections called to let me know that due to Clint’s mental state, the doctors feel he is unfit for trial. He is to be remanded in custody indefinitely at a psychiatric hospital. As soon as I hang up, I have a complete break down. Mum and Jordan, just stand there and let me go for it. Once I’m finished, I ran back to our bedroom and cry myself to sleep.

  I see his face when I close my eyes.

  I see his face when my eyes are open.

  I see him everywhere, I can’t go out in public.

  I’m broken.

  I decide to take an indefinite leave of absence from work; it’s not fair to my coworkers. My boss, Karl, is awesome about it, and he tells me that my job will be waiting for me when I am ready again. I’m not sure I will ever be ready again.

  Two weeks later, and four weeks after the incident, I move out of Jordan’s and my bedroom and I lock myself in the spare room. It isn’t fair for him to be on eggshells in his own room. Each and every time I look at him, I feel guilty. I try to explain how I feel but he doesn’t understand, no one understands. Every Tom, Dick, and Harry tells me that I’m not to blame and that they love me, but I am to blame for this. Love won’t fix this…nothing will.

  I wish they would just treat me like they did before all of this happened. They all look at me with pity and that just makes me feel inferior. Internally I keep screaming at myself for letting this happen again. Again? How could this happen to me again?

  I’ve let down Jordan, I can no longer give him a child.

  I’ve let down Mum, I can no longer give her grandchildren.

  I’ve let down myself.

  I’ve let everyone down.

  I’m worthless.

  This time around it is much harder to deal with it. How stupid I am to get attacked again? And by the same person? Being attacked once is bad enough, but to be attacked twice by the same monster makes me weak and unworthy.

  I just want to be me again.

  Thankfully, Jordan gives me the space that I need, but I can see it’s taking a toll on him. The only good thing to come from this mess is Jordan spends all his time in his man cave, perfecting his beer recipes. I guess that’s the silver lining to all of this.

  A few weeks later, I’m in the toilet when Mike arrives, I overhear him and Jordan talking in the kitchen. Jordan says, “I don’t think she is getting any better Mike, if anything she is pulling away even further.”

  “Give her time, dude. I can’t fucking imagine what she is going through right now. To be attacked once is terrible, but twice and the second time being so much more brutal; I know if it were me, I wouldn’t be the same. She just needs time, Jordan.” Pausing, he looks at me and adds, “Just remember, Kenz is strong. She will get through this.”

  “I know she is strong, and I know she will get though this but I’m not sure how much more I can take.” I gasp at hearing this, and they both turn and look at me standing in the hall with tears streaming down my face. Turning, I run back to my room and lock the door.

  Jordan races down the hall, he tries the handle but thankfully I locked it. I can’t look at him right now. He keeps rattling the doorknob and when it doesn’t budge, he starts knocking and banging on the door. “Kenz, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s not what you think, please let me in.”

  Ripping open the door with tears still pouring down my face, as the floodgates have opened and they just won’t stop. “How am I meant to take not sure how much more I can take? Huh? Tell me? Tell me?” I yell, beating my fists against his chest; my tears are uncontrollable by this point. “It’s killing me, Jordan, I feel so weak, so useless, so…so…” But I can’t talk anymore; the tears have taken over. My whole body is shaking as I collapse into Jordan’s arms. He wraps them tightly around me, and we sink down to the floor in the hallway.

  We sit there in each other’s arms while I cry into his chest. He doesn’t say anything, he just keeps whispering. “Shhhh, let it out, baby.” Occasionally, he kisses my head, reassuring me that he is still here for me.

  After crying for what feels like days, I look up at Jordan. “Why can’t people see that I’m strong? I survived this once before, I can survive this again, I just need time Jor.” Pulling away, I look up at him, and add, “I refuse to let him ruin my life, because if I do that he wins. I will not let him win.”

  Jordan doesn’t say anything, he leans forward, kisses my forehead and whispers, “You are the strongest person I know, Kenz. You will survive and I’ll be right there with you, every step of the way.”

  We snuggle into each other further and Jordan starts to rub my back in circles, just like Sarah does when I’m upset. When I realise what he is doing for the first time in weeks, I laugh. Jordan pulls back and looks at me, “What’s so funny, Kenz?”

  “You’re rubbing my back exactly how Sarah does to soothe me when I’m upset. It’s not really funny, but it is, if that makes sense.”

  Jordan lets out a throaty laugh, leans down and kisses my forehead just like he used to. It’s starting to feel like old times. We sit in the hall together, not saying a thing, both sitting there quietly supporting each other. Glancing up I notice that it’s now dark outside, and that Mike left.

  Jordan is still rubbing my back and he hasn’t stopped since we ended up sitting here. “This is nice,” I whisper. I push away and look up at him. I gaze into his eyes. All I see is love; no pity, no remorse, just love. Smiling at him I say, “I t
hink I need to make an appointment to see Jeannie. I can’t do this to you or me anymore. I want to be me again.”

  “I’ll call her in the morning for you, Kenz, but for now I want to take my fiancée to bed.” Tensing in his arms, I start to panic. He draws back and looks lovingly into my eyes. “To sleep, but first you need a shower.”

  Reaching up, I wrap my arms around his neck for a cuddle. “I like that plan,” I whisper, as I hold him tighter. Feeling much better after my meltdown, I smile when I realise; I will survive.

  We stand up and Jordan leads me into the bathroom. Jordan takes his shirt off and starts to unbutton his jeans. I freeze. “Umm, Jor, I’m not ready to shower with anyone yet, baby steps.” A look of hurt flashes across his beautiful face but he quickly smiles. “No worries Kenz, I’ll go lock up the shed and be right back.” He grabs his shirt from the hamper and walks out.

  As I climb into the shower, I start to cry again. I stand under the steaming hot water and let it all out. Wishing I could just wash away all my fears. If only it was that easy, I think to myself as I get out and start drying myself.

  After my shower, I put on my grey trackies and Kings jersey and head to the kitchen. Jordan is on the phone, he looks up at me when he hears me coming into the kitchen, and his face lights up just like it used to. He quickly finishes his conversation and hangs up. “Hey, baby, feel better after your shower?”

  Jumping up onto the island bench I look over at him. “Yeah, I do, actually. I um, um, I want to apologise for everything.”

  He leans on the bench opposite me. “Kenz, you don’t need to apologise for anything, if anything I should be apologizing to you.” I look over and see sadness in Jordan’s eyes, “Once again I didn’t protect you. I promised your mum that I would always protect you when I asked her permission to propose.” Looking up at me, he smiles sadly, before adding, “But most of all I failed you, I promised you, when you agreed to marry me, and I failed. I’ve failed you both.”