“Just lost track of where the planter was placed. Drank one too many beers.” I keep my eyes averted so she can’t read the lie in them.
“More like he did. You know, you’ve hidden this well. I only had my suspicions about what was going on. When you came in with the black eye, I knew what you’d been hiding.”
“Why do you think it wasn’t what I said? I mean, I ski all the time. Crashing was inevitable.”
“You haven’t gone skiing in a long time and you know it. You pull so many overtime hours here, you don’t have a chance. It was a good cover, and would explain all the injuries you’ve sustained. But I’ve been at this for a long time, spotting the abuse. I bet you didn’t know I volunteer at a shelter for abused women, did you?” With a shake of my head, she continues. “I’ve learned a lot. Heard every excuse in the book. Watched women come in for escape, just to go back in a few days.”
“Why do they go back? If they had the courage to leave, why go back?”
“Conditioning. Manipulation. Abusers get their victims to believe the abuse is deserved. If they would have just been better wives or girlfriends. If they would have just had dinner ready on time, or the house cleaned the way they liked. Or they don’t understand the pressure they’re under at work. I’ve heard it all.”
As I start to lower my top, she walks over to the table and sits down.
“It’s easy to believe they’re sorry. They didn’t mean it and won’t do it again. But it does happen again. And again. After a while, they aren’t sorry anymore. It’s all the victim’s fault. The beatings get worse. Did you know victims of domestic violence are at a higher risk of being killed by their abuser?”
Rummaging around in her bag, she continues. “It’s easier to leave if there are no kids involved. And if the victim has a job. If she’s not dependent on her abuser, she can put money away for herself so when she is ready to leave it isn’t a problem. There are also organizations that will help relocate a victim so her abuser has difficulty finding them.”
Standing back up, she slowly walks over to me, placing her hand on my shoulder.
“You’re a strong woman, Mallory. And as soon as you’re ready, let me know. I will help you.” Handing me a small, white business card, she turns to walk away. “Today, I want you to work the front area. You need to take it easy on those ribs.”
Before she walks out the door, I say, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I don’t want to see you become a statistic. Day or night, call the number. We’ll be there.”
Once the door closes behind her with a soft snick, I bow my head and let the tears flow.
The ringing of the doorbell causes me to open my eyes, and I wince, waiting for Todd to appear. But there’s nothing. I hear the door open, and Donna calls my name, but it sounds far away. Trying to answer is an exercise in futility as no sound passes my lips. The clacking of heels across the tile floor gets closer. Then, a gasp of shock. I try to open my eyes, but I can’t, as if they are glued shut. Donna says my name with urgency. There’s pressure on my throat as a curse leaves her lips. Her voice is harsh in the background, and I am unable to make out the words spoken. A soft hand gently strokes my head, lulling me back to sleep. Then sirens, faint at first, but getting louder with every beat of my heart. More footsteps, heavier this time.
Todd, he’s back!
My chest tightens. I can’t breathe as I brace myself for the oncoming pain, but there is none. More hands are touching me. Lifting. Floating. Moving.
Beep. Beep-beep. Beep.
The sound, it echoes around me, seeming everywhere but nowhere all at once.
Beep. Beep-beep. Beep.
I shift my hand while struggling to open my eyes. A rough, scratchy…something, brushes against my fingers, and they feel stiff as I try to stretch them out. My lids feel heavy, so weighed down, as they finally lift into small slits. It’s all I can manage. There’s white, so much white, and the beeping gets louder. A rush of white noise filters in, and I squeeze my eyes shut before trying again, attempting to even out the sharpness of sound shooting pain to the forefront of my head and down my neck.
A groan escapes my lips, raspy and barely audible. My throat bobs as I try to swallow, but my mouth is so dry, and my tongue feels too thick. I pry my eyes open again, and this time, they cooperate, but the flash of bright light has me wincing at the throbbing headache that immediately intensifies. I blink again, the room becoming clearer, the beeping becoming louder before finally settling at an even tempo.
Beep. Beep-beep. Beep.
My eyes dart around in rapid succession as everything comes into view. IVs, machines, gray railings, the scratchy bedding, sterile white…then, pain. So much pain. A small sob tries to escape, burning my throat from lack of hydration. My mouth is parched, my lips dry.
“Mallory? Hey, sweetie. Nice of you to join us again.” I shift my gaze toward the voice coming from my right, meeting kind eyes and a warm smile. My heart lurches as tears threaten to surface. Donna. But…where—?
“Hey, Mallory. It’s me, Donna. You’re safe, honey. You’re in the hospital, and I have guards posted outside. You’re here confidentially. He’s not going to find you. Just rest. I’ll be right here. I won’t leave.”
Hospital. Confidentially. Guards. The words swim through my mind, but they don’t hold any purchase as my lids become heavy again, the weight of oblivion pulling me under in a way I can’t fight. Blackness hovers around me, and in the next moment, I’m drifting.
When I wake up again, all I can focus on is how much I freaking hurt, even my hair. My eyes will barely open, limiting my vision. Moving my head slightly to the right, the IV pole comes into focus. A cool rush up my arm, and within a few moments, the pain lessens. Inching my hand around on the bed, I search for the call button, and within a minute, the door opens.
“Mallory? Are you awake? Can you hear me?” Nodding my head, I try to speak, but my mouth feels as though it’s stuffed with cotton.
“Hold on just a second. Let me get you a little water. I’m sure your mouth is dry.” I can hear water being poured into a cup. She moves back toward me, into my line of sight. After taking a moment to focus, I realize it’s Abby, one of the nurses who floats to the ER sometimes.
“I’m going to move the bed up a little, so you won’t get strangled. It looks like you got a dose of morphine a few minutes ago, so hopefully the pain will be minimal.” The bed jerks into motion, and I stiffen against the oncoming pain as my head raises up. Even with the morphine, it hurts like a bitch. She moves the cup close to my mouth, and I try to raise my hand.
“Let me hold it, Mal. You’re weaker than you realize.” She places the straw in my mouth, and I suck the cool water down in small sips, relieving my parched throat. I don’t know if anything has ever tasted so good.
“How…” I pause to clear my throat, “how long have I been here?”
“Two days. You’ve been asleep most of the time. Your body needs to heal.”
“What’s wrong with me?”
“It may be easier to tell you what’s not wrong,” she says with a sad smile. “You have three broken ribs, but they’re all bruised badly. You have a concussion, but they didn’t see any hematoma on your CT scan. Your left ankle is badly sprained, which they have wrapped with splints. They wanted to make sure the internal bleeding from your liver laceration resolved without surgery. And it seems to have.”
“Has Donna been in?”
“She’s barely left. I made her go home a little while ago to shower, change, and get some real food. She should be back soon. I’ll call and let her know you’re awake.” She reaches for my hand and gives it a small, reassuring squeeze. “Just take it easy. Your pain medication is on a schedule to keep you comfortable. Call if you need anything.” She places the call button next to my hand.
“I will. Thanks, Abby.” She gives me a small smile and heads out of the room.
Waking up, the soft swish of the door draws my attention as Don
na walks in. The relief I feel at seeing her rivals the morphine running through my veins.
“Hey, girl. I finally leave for a few minutes and you decide to wake up.” Her smile lights up her face. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I got the crap beat out of me.”
“Oh, Mallory. I’m so sorry. If we would’ve moved just a little quicker, this wouldn’t have happened.”
“It’s not your fault. You tried to get me to leave sooner. We can play the blame game all day, and it won’t get us anywhere. There’s only one person to blame for the state I’m in.” Reaching for her hand, I close mine around hers. “How long before I can blow this popsicle stand?”
“I’m not sure. Your injuries are pretty severe. We should wait for Dr. Matthews to check you over.” Before I can protest, she continues. “He knows what’s going on and what we were trying to do. We’ve kept it very quiet about you being here.” I close my eyes in relief that Todd may not know I’m here. For now, I am safe. A soft knock on the door draws our attention as Dr. Matthews comes in.
“Hello, Mallory. It’s good to see you awake. How are you feeling? Is the pain medication keeping you comfortable?” I nod my head. “Good. Do you remember anything that happened?”
“Todd came home early. He got mad when he realized I was leaving. The fury on his face was unlike anything I had seen before. I turned to run, but he was right there, grabbing my arm. I remember him spinning me around and shaking me. I couldn’t understand what he was yelling. Then, he was hitting me, and I woke up here.”
“Has anyone told you the extent of your injuries?”
“Abby gave me the rundown when she was in here earlier. My question is when I can get out of here?”
“I know you’re anxious to leave, and I understand. But you’re safe here. I don’t want to push your body too hard. But I do understand the urgency of you wanting to get out of here. If your bloodwork and everything comes back fine tomorrow, I think it will be safe for you to be moved. We can give some good pain medication for the plane ride. We booked tickets for tomorrow.” At my questioning look, he continues. “I booked you a ticket home, and Donna is going with you. I don’t feel comfortable with you traveling alone. We can cover for her for a while.”
Glancing over at Donna inquisitively, she gives my hand a squeeze. “I’m going to stay with you for a few weeks, until you’re moving around on your own. I’ll help you get settled into your new apartment. And I rescheduled your interview for a couple months. They can always use a great ER nurse like you. They won’t have any problems finding you a place in their rotation.”
I can’t help it, and I begin to cry. All the emotions I have been keeping under wraps come out. She moves to me and gently hugs me. I cry until the tears dry up. “Thank you so much. Both of you.”
By the time we arrive at the complex, I can barely breathe through the pain. Donna helps me out, but as soon as my feet touch the ground, I double over.
“Mallory, we have to go up the stairs. As soon as we make it up there, I’ll give you another pain pill and you can rest. We just need to make it up one flight of stairs,” Donna says encouragingly.
One flight. I can do this.
She herds me forward, and I shuffle along, each step sending a streak of pain through my body. We finally make it to the stairs, and they seem never ending. Glancing back down, I get myself together. It’s only eight steps. I can do this. A door opening from up above and footsteps moving toward to the stairs snags my attention. I keep my head averted so whoever it is can’t see my face. It’s not a pretty sight with my black eyes, busted nose, and swollen jaw. The heavy footsteps on each tread tells me it’s either a man or someone who is overweight.
“Afternoon, ladies,” a deep voice says. Freezing in my tracks, I recognize that voice, but I can’t place it. It sounds so familiar. His boots scrape across the concrete as he turns, then stops. “Y’all need some help?”
Jason. His voice always made me think of melted chocolate—rich and smooth. I sure don’t want him to see me this way. I hadn’t planned to let Kristen and Camryn know I was back until I healed up.
“I think we can make it. It’s just a few stairs. She was in a car accident and got pretty banged up,” Donna says patiently as she begins to ascend the stairs, the hand on the small of my back propelling me forward.
“Just moving in?”
“Yes. Luckily, we had everything delivered and set up earlier.”
“Oh, that means you’re in the apartment next to mine. The sup let the movers in yesterday. If y’all need anything, just holler. I’m in two-oh-four. Name’s Jason.”
I hear him move away and whisper softly to Donna, “I’m ready.” We take the steps one at a time, steadily. If I stop, I’ll never make it up. Finally, we hit the top of the stairs and I breathe a sigh of relief. My apartment is the first door on the right. Donna takes the key to unlock the door. When the door swings open, the first thing I see is a recliner. We make our way over to it and she helps ease me onto the soft cushion.
She disappears for a moment before handing me an ice cold can of Coca-Cola and another pain pill. She turns on the TV to Chopped. Watching TV for a little while before the pill kicks in, my eyelids get heavier and I drift off to sleep, finally feeling safe.
Jason
Pushing the wobbly cart down the produce section of the grocery store, trying to find the eggplant, my phone rings in my pocket.
“Brett, what’s up, man?”
“Not much. You got plans tonight?”
“Just chillin’ at the casa.”
“Wanna come hang out?”
“I could be persuaded,” I reply on a laugh.
“How about a bribe of enchiladas and cold beer?”
“Done. What time?”
“Whenever you feel like coming over, man. I’m gonna hit up Isaac and Derek. See if they want to come over too.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’m grocery shopping now.”
“Fun, fun,” he replies sarcastically.
“Well, if I want to eat, it has to be done. I’ll head over as soon as I get everything put away. Later.”
“Later.”
The music is blaring when I walk up to the house. Opening the door, the first thing that catches my attention is Brett and Isaac wrestling on the floor, Derek cheering them on while trying not to spill his beer, the most recent MMA fight replaying in the background on the massive television.
“Y’all, please don’t break anything tonight. I swear, it’s like a bull in a china shop with you three. Oh, hey, Jason,” the soft, feminine voice calls from the doorway of the kitchen.
When she calls out, the guys on the floor stop messing around as if just realizing their territory has been invaded.
“Hey, Jase!” Brett says from where he has Isaac pinned to the floor.
“Dude, grab a beer and pull up a seat. It’s fight night!” Derek calls from the couch, holding up his beer in salute.
Passing Kristen, I press a kiss to her cheek as I squeeze by.
“Keep your damn lips off my woman!” Brett bellows.
“Someone has to pay her some attention since you’re making out with Isaac down there,” I throw over my shoulder.
“It’s nice to see you, Jason.”
“You too, Kris. You hanging with is tonight?”
“Hell no,” she retorts on a laugh. “I’m headed over to Camryn’s. We’re gonna enjoy girl’s night. Lots of ice cream and eye candy.”
“I’m the only eye candy you need,” Brett growls from behind her before wrapping his arms around her and drawing her in close.
“It doesn’t hurt to look. As long as hands are kept to oneself.” She turns to glare at him with an arched brow.
“Looking, no touching. I know the rules. Not even tempted to break them.” He leans down and lays a long, slow kiss on her lips.
“Okay, okay. Break it up.”
Laughing, they pull apart.
“The enchiladas, beans, and rice ar
e warming in the oven. Nachos are done. Fridge is stocked with beer and Dr. Pepper. Y’all try not to destroy the house.” After a quick kiss with Brett, she walks over to me and kisses me on the cheek. “Keep these guys in line, would ya?”
“No promises.”
“Come on, damn it. Get his ass on the mat. His ground game is weak as hell!” Isaac bellows as if the fighter can hear him.
“Shit, Gomez, is gonna kick his ass before Shellan ever takes his ass to the mat!” Derek counters.
Relaxing back on the couch, I try to contain my laughter at these two idiots.
Glancing over at Brett, I see him smiling at his phone.
“Put that fucking thing down. It’s guys night. You can return to being pussy whipped tomorrow.”
“Whatever. I can’t help it that I like spending time with my girl,” he replies, a sappy grin on his face.
“They having a good time?”
“I guess. She was just saying they got to talking about Mallory.”
“How’s she doing?” I ask, trying to be nonchalant. I have always regretted not asking Mallory out before Todd sunk his claws into her. There’s just something about that creep I never liked. But tonight, when I start thinking about her, I wonder about the woman who moved in next door, though I’m not sure why. The only thing they had in common was their petite stature and dark hair. Mallory was always full of energy, the life of the party. Not some timid little waif like my new neighbor.
“That’s what they were talking about. Neither of them have heard from her in months. She’s been ignoring all their calls and texts. Hasn’t posted anything on Facebook or Instagram. I mean, we knew there would be some distance created between them when she moved, but they said this is really unlike her. They’re just worried.”
“Yeah. Those three were thick as thieves before she moved. I know it was really hard on her when her dad died.”
“I have a feeling the girls are plotting.”
Break Me Down: Silver Tongued Devils Series Book 2 Page 5