“Abigail, baby, calm down. I feel him trying to shake me and get me to respond. I can’t, I focus on breathing. “Shit. Let me get the nurse.” Leighton leaps from the bed, not knowing what to do. The nurse appears with him a few seconds later, she injects something into the intravenous drip in my hand. As the cool liquid seeps into my veins, I feel myself instantly relax.
“Let’s leave her to rest; she’s had a hard time the last twenty-four hours. You can stay but please don’t worry her,” the nurse’s soft voice tells Leighton, my body is relaxed, sleepy and over exhausted.
“Thank you,” he tells her, and then climbs onto the bed with me pulling me to him; my huge bump makes it hard for me to accommodate him. His arms wrap around me, my head nestles into his warm, hard chest. “Sleep now Angel.” His lips touch against my forehead, leaving a tingling feeling to linger there. A reminder that I am here, I am safe and I am with my Leighton.
I am allowed home after three days, well after reassuring the surgeons and doctors that I am in fact going to stay indoors for the remainder of my pregnancy and rest.
I have had panic attack after panic attack and reoccurring nightmares every time I close my eyes. Not only do those three animals penetrate my dreams, but every shit thing that has ever happened to me returns. Even new nightmares of what I imagine David’s body to have been like. I have never even thought about it, but my whole structure and all my defences are once again weak and defeated.
I have been given positive clarification that Leighton was in fact, as he had told me, with Nate, and that eases the ache in my heart completely. All that I feel now is paranoia, fright and to be honest not myself at all.
But now, three days later, here I am, walking through the doors of my home, my physical pain bearable but my emotional sanity not so much. I take a deep breath inwards, feeling surprisingly calm and content. I am home, I am safe. Leighton is here with me.
“You going to be ok here angel?” he asks me as I place my handbag on the side by the door, his obvious concern for my emotional stability is warming.
“Yeah, I’ll be okay. I mean, I’ll probably always see them here, in this hallway and in the lounge but I can’t let it get to me. I won’t let it get to me. We have precisely eight weeks till this little squishy is here, and I want to enjoy it.” I snuggle into his waiting embrace, inhaling his intoxicating scent. It feels good to once again enjoy his presence. When I had woken up from my operation, I had never wanted to see him again, completely disgusted to look at him, but now I am begging for the simplest touch from him.
“Well they won’t get in here again baby, I have six men who will be here and with you at all times. You go anywhere they go too. You will also take the gun I am getting you today, everywhere, and I mean everywhere Abigail, even to the fucking toilet. I’m not having them getting anywhere close to you ever again.” He squeezes his arms around me, cocooning me to him.
“I know Leighton, I get it. I need to sit down because my backs hurting baby,” I tell him releasing myself from his hold. I walk through the huge expanse of corridors towards the lounge. Taking a seat on the huge comfy corner unit, I relax back into the material. I rub my hands over my face; they are bruised and sore from the repeated prodding and poking of my drips. I can feel the pain and panic building already. Don’t ask me why, of all the dozens of rooms available in the building I choose to sit in the one room that I was beaten, sliced apart and damaged inside and out. Am I some sort of emotional masochist or something?
I sniffle back the tears fighting to escape, not wanting Leighton to know how effected I really am. I am fucking petrified to be here. I nearly lost my child in this room, I nearly lost my life.
“Abigail, sweetheart, come here.” I feel the sofa dip beside me and Leighton pulls me into his side. “It’s going to be okay, I’m not going to let them get to you baby girl, no one will ever touch or hurt you again. I’m so sorry, this never would have happened if I’d just listened to you.” I can hear his own sniffles, I can feel his warm tears dripping from his cheeks and onto my head, I can hear his erratic heart beating beneath his ribcage.
I cry loudly, fiercely and so gut wrenchingly, the heavens are sure to have heard. I sob into his chest, drowning his shirt in my salty tears.
“What are we going to do Leighton? I’m so scared that they’ll get to you next.” And that is the problem I think. Yes I am scared that they’d come back, but mostly I am terrified, that when Leighton goes to work they’d get to him, that I’d get a knock at the front door saying he’d been sliced and diced the way they tried with me. I can’t do this without him; he is my support, my wall, my skeletal system in my life. He has built me up from the nothingness my life was and given me a reason to live. If he one day vanished, everything I am would also dissipate with him. Yes I would have his child, but I would be empty, emotionless, just a mere vessel for another spirit that had since flown and left me.
“Not going to happen Abigail, no-one will or could remove me from your side. I’m with you forever and always baby.” He kisses my head gently, as more tears start leaking through his dark long lashes and onto me.
“I can’t do this without you, please don’t ever leave me.” I can feel the panic setting in again. I am starting to get really pissed at myself for letting those animals get to me this much.
“Abigail, I’m not going anywhere. I have my men, they will keep me safe, and you will have the security of six men to protect you. We will be fine until this all blows over or ends.”
“I think I need to lie down, I’m tired.” I get up from the sofa and walk the hallways and stairs to our room. I lie myself down into the soft waiting duvet and mountains of blankets and then close my aching eyes. They are so sore, sore from crying so bloody much.
I awake several hours later, the sky outside is dark and cold, the odd bang of a firework overhead echoes through the acres of land at the back of the mansion and lights up the black sky in an array of rainbow technicolour beauty.
I climb from the bed, the aching in my pulled muscles evident, they are now stiff and sore from lying in bed for hours.
I use the toilet; put my soft slippers onto my swollen hippo feet, tie the dressing gown haphazardly around myself and then slip from the bedroom to go downstairs.
In the lounge Leighton is seated with all of his men; Antonio, Thomas, Nate (who is seated rather close to Thomas), Scott, Brad and Luke.
Thomas stands from his seat, leaving his boyfriend Nate, and strides towards me. He grabs my waist and pulls me in to a huge hold. “Baby girl, I’m sorry this has happened.” He is like a brother to me, out of all the men; he is as special to me as Maria is. His body swallows mine as he holds on to me firmly and lovingly.
He releases me and then takes my face in his palms. “How are you feeling?” he asks me concerned, glancing down to my stomach, then to my chest and finally my stitched and bruised face.
“I’m alright, been better, been worse.” And I had, in my short twenty two years of life I have experienced the epitome of happiness, and I have seen such devastation and heartbreak that this point right here right now, was just a middle ground.
“Oh sweetheart. It won’t ever happen again I can assure you of that. They’re all lucky there not hanging from a tree out back right now.” And I believe him, Tom is as soft as they come, a teddy bear, but someone upset his family, and there would be hell to pay.
“I know Tom, I know.” I turn to all the men. “But please, all of you, even you Scott,” he knows my disliking of him, so I thought I’d reiterate my feelings, “be safe, I can’t lose any of you okay.”
“I’m flattered Abigail,” Scott replies sarcastically, holding his hand to his heart in a love filled gesture.
I know there is no way on this earth that Leighton is going to let this go. I can’t stop him, that’s who he is, and if he doesn’t end this I know a thousand percent the others in this family group will.
“Please, all of you promis
e me you’ll stay safe.” I plead them with my eyes, begging them to protect one another and mainly to protect my fiancé.
“You got it sweetness, stay safe, clearly received. Now come sit your pregnant arse down, you look tired,” Ant insists. I would feel like I was intruding, except I know everything that happens now, I’m not kept from anything. Well, except the whole retaliation thing Leighton had kept from me.
I place my backside on Leighton’s lap; he is sitting in the arm chair, on his own, a glass with a slosh of whiskey in, resting on the arm of the chair.
“I’m not really tired, just woken up. My back aches and my chest stings, but I’m okay.” I snuggle my head into Leighton’s chest again, surprised that actually I am still tired, and could easily and possibly fall back to sleep. “Sorry if I’m too heavy,” I whisper to him.
“Your perfect Angel, stay where you are.” I relax myself into his muscular frame, comforted by his scent and definition.
I can hear the men talking about what they are going to do and how they are to handle their new revenge. I can feel Leighton’s body tensing in anger, he is obviously thinking about what has happened to me and is clearly ready to slit some throats. I try to blank out their talking; I can hear muffles instead, the odd word or sentence penetrating my ears.
Leighton finishes his Scotch, places the glass on the table and then pulls me further into him. He places one arm around my stomach, resting his large hand on the protruding bump; the other nestles on the back of my head, gently stroking the strands between his fingertips.
I feel myself slip into sleep, the voices of the men relaxing me, making me feel safe and at home.
The next morning I wake up, completely surprised that I have slept the whole night without waking up in tremors or shakes, like I have done in the hospital the previous three nights.
I look beside me, the bed is empty, and Leighton is nowhere to be seen.
I look to the side and a note rests upright against the lamp.
My beautiful Abigail,
I had to pop out early to sort some things out.
I’ll be back soon.
I love you
Leighton x
Great, home alone. I drag myself from the bed, feeling nervous at being home on my own.
After showering, dressing and slipping my soft sippers onto my feet again, I make my way downstairs to make some breakfast for myself.
Reaching the kitchen I go into full blown panic mode, standing and sitting around my kitchen island are six huge men. Attached to their belts are guns, Glock G19’s. All have a crazy kind of look in their eyes. Luckily none of them can see me; they are searching through the cupboards and drawers.
Without drawing attention to myself I turn back around and run for Leighton’s office, slamming the door behind me and swinging the lock across.
Getting to his desk I drop to my knees and press the red button under the desk a multitude of times, knowing it will be reaching Antonio the second I push it. I climb under the desk and pull my knees to my chest. I begin to rock, trying to drive the dark and agonising memories from only four days ago, away.
I try my hardest to fight the sick feeling in the pit of my hungry stomach.
I rub my stomach, trying to soothe my baby. My squishy has started to kick and budge inside, clearly sensing my elevation in blood pressure and my racing heart.
“It’s okay baby, mummy’s got you, we're safe. Uncle Antonio will be here soon, he’ll get rid of the nasty men. Oh God squishy, oh God.” I try my hardest to breath in and out, if my heart rate soars too high, it can damage the baby. I need to keep calm and collected.
But how can I? How can I remain sane when there are six men in my kitchen, they are waiting for me. They want to hurt us both. I just about survived three men, six will destroy me, and there would be no body to identify.
The state of petrification my body is undergoing causes me to become dizzy and weary. I can feel myself losing consciousness, a sort of stress induced coma approaching.
I vaguely remember the door to the office being kicked through and the last thing I think of is, ‘I hope Leighton will be able to move on and forgive me’.
I force my eyes to open when I hear Leighton’s voice.
“Baby, open your eyes. Come on Abbi. Open them for me.” I pry them apart, the lights in the room causing me to flinch.
“Too bright,” I squeal out, moving my hand in front of them to block the florescent gleam.
I feel Leighton’s hand on mine removing it from my eyes. “I’ve turned the light off Angel. You can open your eyes now.” I open my eyelids, the lamp glowing softly on the bedside table. I relax into the soft mattress beneath me.
I look into Leighton’s eyes. “Oh God baby, you’re alive. I was so scared,” I mumble, tears escaping my eyes.
“Hey, come here.” He climbs onto the bed with me, pulling my huge pregnant self to him. “They weren’t here to hurt you, I’m sorry I should have said something. They are the security detail I hired. I had to go out and didn’t want you alone so they came in early. I should have let you know.” His guilt over worrying me oozing from him.
“Oh God Leighton, I thought they were here to hurt me again.” I sniffle back my full blown sob, acknowledging now that I’m not in danger and that Leighton is here.
“I know Angel, I know. You don’t have to be scared anymore. Nothing is going to happen. I won’t let it.” I can’t take his promise with a hundred percent certainty; he has no idea at how far those bastards can take their revenge. I am certain that sooner or later something tragic is going to happen.
“Leighton, how do I stop this continual state of panic? I can’t live like this. I can’t live knowing they’re out there somewhere,” I scream into the duvet surrounding me.
“What can I do baby, what can I do to help you through this?” His own internal struggle is fighting him at every turn.
The only way I can relax is to know a hundred percent they are gone, that they are dead and buried. I don’t condone what Leighton does for a living; it is sickening to think that my sweet, beautiful man is a murderer, but I just can’t do it anymore. I’d been home for less than two days and already don’t want to carry on the way I am.
“I want them gone, completely gone from my life. I want no risk that they’ll return. If they’re not alive they can’t hurt me.” I feel utterly sick for asking Leighton what I want, that I am now as bad as those animals that had started this all those months ago.
“Don’t worry Angel. They’re not coming back. It’s already on my to do list. No one in this family is suffering anymore. They think it’s just the start, well I’m saying it’s now the end.” I don’t answer; I just wiggle down the bed, turn my back to him and let him cuddle me from behind. His chest fuses to my spine, the warmth surrounds me.
Four weeks have passed, every day the same. Leighton will leave for work, I will be stuck indoors, with the six security men, who I am becoming quite fond of. They are lovely men, some have children and wives of their own and one is gay.
I have learnt to trust the six of them with my life.
Leighton returns home every night, cleans his hands in the sink, and kisses my cheek. He then disappears into his office to do more work. His attitude is seriously foul, he hardly acknowledges me, hardly wants to be around me. We haven’t made love since before my attack, partly due to my massacred vagina, but it also seems like he isn’t even bothered or interested in me. He still brings home flowers for me daily, so I know he is thinking of me at some point during the day, even if he hasn’t told me so much himself.
I know the reasons he washes his hands, I know he is metaphorically cleaning the spilt blood of the day away. I wonder every day what his death toll is up to now. What his murder streak is.
I spend the majority of my time preparing for the birth of our baby, researching things online, booking in for a water birth and getting my hospital bag sorted. The security guys spend a
lot of time around me; we eat together, laugh together and are just around each other. They obviously know what Leighton is doing because they distract me as best they can.
We are receiving daily threats and messages. A few times I have awoken in the middle of the night to the sound of glass smashing. No one ever gets in; security is on during the night as well, so they are pretty quick on their feet. We have had dead animals left outside the house, on the doorstep. Blood smeared on the walls and driveway.
Several of the girls who work at the restaurant, including Heidi’s daughter, have been attacked or threatened. It is getting beyond a joke.
I walk into Leighton’s office where he has retreated for the evening; I open the door without so much as knocking first.
“Good evening sweetheart, care to join us?” I ask sarcastically, starting to get slightly pissed off at his ignorance towards me. I am beginning to get restless and my hormones are playing a crazy game of tennis in my body.
“I’m busy.” He doesn’t even look up from his laptop as his short, snappy comeback has me seeing red, when really I know I should stop and think.
“You really are being a shitty fiancé do you know that? Those six men out there are more of a partner to me this last month than you have been. Maybe I should ask them to fuck me seeing as you’re obviously not interested anymore.” I turn around and stalk out. I slam the door hard behind me, the wall shaking causing a frame to fall from the office wall behind the door and smash on the floor.
Deliverance (The LockDown Series Book 1) Page 25