by Maree, Kay
In a split second, everything I knew about my life faded into an inky black void. The air around me turned into a thick fog of sorrow, pain, and the unmistakable metallic scent of blood.
The place I’d once called home, my sanctuary, vanished before my eyes and I became subservient to a man who was filled with so much darkness, it seeped from his very pores.
I always wondered why he didn’t just kill me that night when he noticed me standing frozen by my bedroom door. In his eyes, he may have killed the person who’d gave up on him so long ago, but it was also my burden to carry since I was the child she’d chosen to keep. In the blink of an eye, with a simple flick of the wrist, the once happy home I’d grown up in became my very own prison cell consisting of pain, heartache, and fear. The fear was so thick, it engulfed the small home and consumed my every heartbeat. Every single breath felt like I was suffocating, like my lungs were caving in.
I’m sure the image he portrayed to the outside world was nothing compared to what I saw, or what he inflicted on me. That smile, with its straight white teeth, could woo any woman within a mile’s radius. That smoothed back, close-cropped, auburn hair and fair complexion could sure draw the eye to his thin, but slightly muscular frame. But those death-dark blank eyes could pierce through your very soul and slowly chip it apart until there was nothing left and have you yearning for the day you took your last breath just to escape the hell you’d been caught in for so long.
You begin to crave the nights, even the chilled night air coming through the cracked, dirty window that’s now nailed shut, because you could escape into your mind and remember a better time where laughter bounced off the walls, music played constantly, and you would give your best rendition of the current number one hit song, where if you cried from scraping your knee or just feeling sad, warm arms would engulf you, comfort you, and tell you everything will be better with a nice cup of steamy rich hot chocolate. But as soon as the first rays of light begin to shine through the torn, seen better days, thin curtains, those memories would just fade away and become your very own backdrop for the dread which creeps through you knowing that with the coming sunrise the evil that plagues your life for God knows how long will come again. You are left curled into a ball in the corner, begging for a simple mouthful of water or scrap of food, hoping and praying to anyone who’s listening, that the next lash, beating or burn will be your last.
Tightening my hands by my sides, I wince against the pain strumming up my arms, snapping me out of the flashbacks. Blinking a few times trying to clear my vision, cool tears are slicing down my face and I quickly wipe them away. Taking some much-needed air into my burning lungs, I try to steady my breathing.
Counting to ten in my head, my body relaxes when my breathing finally evens out.
“I need to be stronger,” I whisper to myself. “I escaped. I am free. He can’t find me here” I repeat over and over again, feeling weightless as my body fully relaxes into the soft, plastic-covered mattress.
Closing my eyes, I take comfort from knowing Constable Stone will keep watch over me while I rest. Even when the dark void begins to penetrate my dreams, something inside me knows that with him beside me, nothing can hurt me.
It's been so long since I’ve felt any semblance of safety, but there’s just something about him that settles my need to run and hide; for now, anyway.
With that thought, my body feels lighter and tiredness clings to me. Letting go, I snuggle deeper into the warm blankets as I feel them being pulled up and tucked around me, humming in the back of my throat as the comforting aroma of clean, fresh air and cinnamon settles over me.
Safe.
Protected.
At ease, for the first time in a long time, and through my sleep-filled head, I grab hold and let the feelings wash over me, letting them consume every chilled, scared part of me.
My mind balances in the unknown as warm lips settle against my forehead.
Barely coherent, hushed words cocoon me; my chaotic and twisted mind turned still by a well-placed hand against my skin, comforting me in a way that is new, yet still terrifying.
Be Stronger. Be Braver. Be Free.
Pushing through Emily’s hospital room door as quietly as I can, not wanting to startle her, I stand stock-still taking in her pinched expression, and the tears cascading down her soft face.
My heart twists in my chest at the pure sadness written all over her features.
All I want to do is comfort her, and not because it’s my job. There’s something about her that calls to me, and all I want to do is hold her.
Fisting my hands at my sides, willing my body not to move a muscle, I watch as conflicted emotions flicker across her paler than normal face and the tears fall faster. I don’t know how long I stand there watching, but every minute slices through me like a hot knife.
Hushed words trip off her lips and I can’t stand still anymore.
Taking tentative steps towards the bed when she seems to have settled down, I pull the blankets up and around her small frame, not wanting her to get cold.
I can’t resist running my fingers across her pale, almost translucent, forehead.
I can’t help grazing my lips across the same spot. Pulling back wayward strands of strawberry blonde hair from her face, I suck in a deep breath as the sight of her sunken cheeks and the dark rings circling what I know to be bright turquoise eyes which captured and held me in place the moment I first saw her.
The way those eyes locked with mine, threatened to tear me apart from the inside out, yet there is still an innocent spark lying in the depths.
I can’t help but be drawn into their unique colour, they have my heart pounding.
My breath stills remembering them looking into mine, assessing me; deathly afraid and guarded at the same time, as if she didn't know whether to trust me or not. I have seen that look many times, in my line of work, but none have ever affected me this much before.
Resting back into the chair beside her bed, resisting the urge to tangle her fingers with mine, I run a rough hand across the back of my neck and feel the tension built up under the muscles. Blowing out a rough breath, I let my eyes run over Emily’s still petite form, not able to stop the images blasting through me of how thin she really is. Each rib could be seen. Bruises marred her pale complexion, each one glowing like a beacon in the night. Every burn, abrasion and old scar stood out, causing my heart to do some funny shit in my chest as anger simmered just under the surface.
This girl has been to hell and back, and I want to be the one to bring her back into the light and I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about that. Women have never really interested me before. Sure, I’ve had the odd girlfriend, here and there, but nothing too serious. Because of my job, I try not to get too close to anyone, either from being afraid of hurting them or simply because I don’t want to worry about someone else.
Mum always tells me that it’s not the right way to live and that one day, when I least expect it, the right woman will come along and take my legs right out from under me and have my breathing stuttering in my chest.
I always laughed her off, but right now, as I take in this petite creature, her words keep repeating on a loop.
Small, soft whimpers fill the air, pulling my attention back to Emily. The rapid eye movement under her closed lids tells me she’s dreaming. The twist of her lips, her shaking body, and the whimpers getting louder, tell me it isn’t as peaceful as I originally thought. Silent tears begin to slide down her pale cheeks and any thought of not touching her vanishes as I lean forward, cupping her hand with mine, whispering calming words into her ear.
Her body relaxes, the whimpers turning into a slight humming sound that has my dick standing up and paying attention.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Gritting my teeth, I try to think of anything else besides my painfully hard cock.
Taking in her soft features, those beautiful turquoise eyes open and stare into mine
. There’s a softness in the depths, bringing a lump to my throat.
Why the hell does she affect me like this?
“Breath, Little Sunshine, I got you.” Running the tips of my fingers down the side of her cheek, I feel her freeze at my touch. Swallowing hard, I push back the hard lump in my throat.
“I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Those eyes shine up at me, brimming with tears.
Pulling back from touching her, I give her hand a small squeeze before letting go.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to touch you,” I gruff out.
A rough breath whooshing from my lungs, I run both hands through my hair.
“It’s okay,” she whispers, her voice so soft I strain to hear it, but even whispering that voice wraps around me.
Fuck, if she knew what I was thinking she would probably run away screaming.
“Wanna talk about it?” I ask, evenly.
Shaking her head, she begins to shut down on me again.
Those eyes cloud with shadows and the small smile that graced her lips only moments ago vanishes in the blink of an eye.
“I’m sorry.” Instinctively reaching out for her hand, but catching myself at the last minute, I pull back and run it through my hair again, then down the back of my neck, squeezing the tense muscles there.
Fuck. What the fuck is this need to touch her?
“Sor--” I go to say sorry again, but she cuts me off.
“It’s okay. I’m sorry, your touch just does--” She doesn’t finish as her eyes look deep into mine, and all I can do is nod, understanding completely what she means.
That shy smile is back, softly curling her lips as a light pink tinge begins coursing through her cheeks.
The air surrounding us thickens and my heart gallops in my chest making it hard to breathe. My mum’s words punch through me, one by one, completely knocking the wind from my lungs.
“For some time now, I’ve searched the recesses of my brain, trying to find a memory with warmth, comfort, love, even happiness, but each time I felt like I was grasping at straws. Little bits, here and there, would come back, leaving me feeling desperate for any little thing, starving for a reason to keep breathing, to keep fighting. Hoping one day I’d finally be free - no more pain, no more fear.” She sniffs “Now, that day is here and I don’t know what to do. I feel too broken, too lost for this world. I feel like I don’t have enough glue and tape to hold myself together anymore, and that terrifies me.” She breathes out as crystal tears fall from those captivating eyes, each one cutting me deeper and deeper, each word breaking me wide open. A lump forms in the back of my throat. Reaching over, I lightly cup her hand in mine. She freezes, but after a moment her hand relaxes in mine. Struggling to get words past my now dry mouth, I rub my thumb across her smooth skin.
“Let me--” I husk out. Clearing my throat, I try again, “Let me help you.”
We stare into each other's eyes and time seems to slow as she absorbs my words.
Before she can answer, my phone rings and breaks through the heavy moment.
“I have to take this.” Blowing out a rough breath, and digging through my pocket with my free hand, I pull it free, puzzled as to why Lucas would be ringing me.
“Jebson,” I bark.
“Lucy is gone, someone’s taken her,” he rushes out, panic lining his words.
“Where are you?” My hackles rising with the trepidation in his words.
“In the hospital waiting room,” he barks out, breathing heavily as curses rush out.
“Be there in a minute.” I end the call, shoving my phone back into my pocket.
“I have to go,” I rush out. “I’ll be back.”
“What happened?” She panics, trying to sit up in the bed.
“It’s okay, Little Sunshine. I’ll have a guard on your door. That was Lucas. Apparently, Lucy is missing.” Giving her hand a quick squeeze, my heart jumps as I feel her squeeze me back.
“Go,” she whispers, her breath catching in her throat.
“I’ll be back. Try to rest and eat something. I’ll have a nurse bring something in.”
She nods before I turn and head for the door. Just as my hand pushes against the wood, a soft ‘Stay safe’ comes from behind me and all I can do is nod. The effect those two little words have on me is undeniable, but I don’t have time to reflect on them right now. Pushing it to the back of my mind to analyse later, I rush down the sterile corridor towards the waiting room.
My father always said that when something is broken, don’t give up.
Spend time fixing it, because it may just come out better in the end.
We live in a throwaway world, son, but some things are worth saving.
Emily Sky Miller is my something worth saving.
2 weeks later
Staring up at the white ceiling in my new room, I snuggle deeper into the softest bed I’ve ever felt and let my mind wander as I take in the intricate crown moulding running around the ceiling. The aroma of pancakes and coffee infuse the air, a small smile pulling across my lips.
Thinking back on the past two weeks, and how much my life has changed, in the blink of an eye my world tilted and changed again, but this time it’s not like the nightmare of before, instead, these walls hold no pain, only love, laughter, and joy.
My heart warms remembering back to that day in the hospital two weeks ago, when I met June and Lou Steel for the first time. They were like guardian angels.
June came through my hospital door, took one look at me, and demanded that I live with them.
At first, I was apprehensive, but I saw no malice in their eyes. Instead, I was looking into warm caring eyes; eyes that seemed so sincere and soft, they settled the raging storm that was whirling through me.
No matter my protests, June laid a soft had against my shoulder, making me flinch a little, but she didn’t pull back. Instead, it seemed she was struggling not to cry as she spoke softly, as if I was a wild animal she was trying to tame, and told me, “Being lost and scared was something that you shouldn’t experience alone.”
Leaving me lost for words, tears brimmed my eyes as I looked at Jebson, worried he’d told them what I’d said to him earlier in the day, but he looked as shocked as me.
“They are good people,” Jebson had said. Call me naïve, but I trusted his word.
For the first couple of days, I stayed cooped up in my new room, worried I would overstep my place here. Jebson came by every day to check on me before he started work. By the fourth day, I finally got the courage to venture out and June smiled brightly. Lou was already out the back, working with his son, Nash, and the rest of the farmhands.
While we made small talk, nothing too heavy, just enough to make me feel comfortable, Jebson showed up. It was the first time I’d seen him without his uniform on and damn, I swear my jaw just about hit the floor. Worn, tight blue jeans which seemed moulded to his muscled thighs, a black t-shirt stretched across his massive chest, and an old tanned cowboy hat sitting on top of his dark hair. The hair around his mouth was neatly trimmed and he looked like he’d stepped out of the pages of one of my mum's old cowboy romance books.
My mouth dried, my body trembled, and heat crept through me as that warm cinnamon scent rolled over me, and when he offered to take me for a walk around the property, my heart leapt at the chance.
Everything just seemed a little bit easier to get through with him there. With encouragement from June, I agreed. I raced upstairs, quickly changed into a pair of shorts and singlet shirt Cora and Lucy loaned me, and threw my hair up into a ponytail.
I felt like an idiot getting so excited about going for a walk with him.
He was just a friend and my body was carrying on as if it meant something else. I chastised myself the whole way back down the stairs.
“Are you ready?” he asked with a smile that could melt my panties off. It had me choking down a whimper and all I could do was n
od.
My body began trembling when the heat of his palm seeped through the thin layer of my shirt when he placed his hand on the base of my spine.
His touch no longer made me flinch.
Instead, it had the complete opposite effect on me. Jebson had said, back in the hospital, he wanted to help me, and ever since then he would place small touches against my arm, hold my hand, and sometimes those rough fingers would sweep the hair out of my eyes.
Every touch was meant to test and heal me at the same time, and I will be forever grateful for what he’s done for me.
“Sweetheart, breakfast is ready,” June calls up the stairs, pulling me back to the now.
“Coming,” I called back, pushing the blankets off.
Making quick work in the bathroom, I head downstairs.
“Morning, Sweetheart. Coffee this morning?”
“Yes, please, Mrs Steel.”
“What did I tell you?” she smirks, raising a brow in my direction.
“Sorry, June.”
“That’s better, dear. Now, take a seat”
“I can hel--”
“Nonsense,” she tuts, heading towards the kettle.
A loud crash at the back door has me jumping in my chair. Heavy footfalls follow up the hallway, and a mumbled, “Fucken stubborn woman!” rattles against the walls. My back straightens until Nash comes around the corner, my body sagging into my chair.
“Nash Jacob Steel,” June chastises, hands on her hips and tapping her foot, making me giggle.
“Don’t full-name me this early in the morning, Mum,” he grumbles, taking the cup June offers, then bending down he kisses the top of her head.
“Well, don’t swear,” she throws back, laughing. Heading towards the table with two cups in her hands, she places them on the table then turns, grabbing two plates filled with pancakes and places one in front of me. Picking up my cutlery, I cut a small piece and popped it into my mouth. I hum around the mouth-watering taste. June giggles, making me blush.