Thin Ice

by April Cronin

  Don't leave me! Her mind screamed as the warm sensation of the doctor's hand faded, and a sense of dread crept over her. Olivia had no idea how she'd landed in the hospital, the last thing she could remember was leaving the office. But she hurt, oh how she hurt. She was almost glad she couldn't summon the strength to move her hands, for fear of what she might find. It was so hard to open her eyes more than a little, her lips were split and swollen, she couldn't speak, her throat was dry and screaming, she desperately wanted water.

  How did this happen? Who had done this to her? And just how bad was it? She didn't know, and maybe, just maybe it was better that way. Olivia shivered at the thought, vainly hoping there was no permanent damage. And as the blackness swept over her again, she heard his menacing voice once more.

  “You belong to me Olivia.”

  Olivia woke with a start. Pain shot down her arm as she jarred the IV line in her hand. It was the voice that woke her. Always the voice. She'd been in the hospital for three days now, and this was the first time she'd really been able to control her movements. The hospital staff had been keeping her pretty doped up, she needed her rest they would say when she became the least bit conscious. She'd overheard one nurse once telling someone, she thought it was her brother, that Dr. Henshaw had considered putting her in a medically induced coma.

  And that had scared her beyond belief. Just how bad was it exactly? She hadn't had the chance to ask, they were drugging her the second she stirred.

  Not this time though. She'd slept enough damn it! Olivia lay there silently, there wasn't a nurse in the room as far as she could see. Her movements were still limited, it hurt to turn her head too much, and though her eyes still felt puffy and swollen, she could see a little better. Now if only she could get a damn glass of water!

  The Doctor came in then, smiling as she pulled a stool up next to the bed and looked over her chart. “You're awake.”

  Olivia nodded, she didn't bother trying to speak just yet, her throat hurt something fierce. She remembered how it had felt when she was younger and had had her tonsils removed, it was kind of like that, only worse.

  “Would you like to try and drink some water?” The Doctor asked pleasantly, reaching for a large hospital mug. “I'm sure you must be thirsty.” She placed the straw up to Olivia's mouth and smiled as Olivia took a first tentative sip. “Take it slow. No rush.”

  Oh but the water felt blessedly cool going down. Her throat burned, and the water was like a river cooling burnt lava. After a few more sips Dr. Henshaw pulled the mug away and set it on the table beside her.

  “Do you think you can talk Olivia?”

  She hesitated, then nodded. “yes.” she croaked, her voice low and more than a little harsh.

  “That's good. We'll take it easy. Just yes or no.”

  Olivia managed a weak smile, and nodded again. She didn't want to take it easy. She wanted to know what had happened to her, and she needed to know how bad the damage was.

  “Do you remember what happened to you Olivia?”

  “No.”

  “Okay.”

  “No.” She said again, frustrated now. It wasn't okay. Why would she say it was okay? Olivia shook her head more fervently. “No,” she cried.

  “It's okay Olivia, you're safe here. I need you to calm down though.” Dr. Henshaw took her hand, patted it. “Your memories will come back to you Olivia, there's no permanent damage. It'll come back to you.”

  Olivia's tears slid slowly down her cheeks, she nodded. It was good to hear there was no brain damage, it was good to know. But what about the rest? She wanted to ask. What about the rest of me.

  Dr. Henshaw seemed to understand, she seemed to see the questions in her eyes. “I'm not going to lie to you Olivia, it's pretty bad.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, clutching the Doctor's hand as she cried. Dr. Henshaw waited until she had calmed down before she spoke again.

  “I don't think you'll scar Olivia, but you'll be pretty bruised up for a while. I can show you, do you want to see it? Do you want to see your face?”

  “Yes,” she squeaked between sobs.

  The Doctor nodded, grabbed a mirror and held it up to her. Olivia turned her head away and groaned at the site of the damage to her face. She had two black eyes, the blood vessels in her eyes had popped, the whites of her eyes were bloodshot. Her nose was broken, her lips and one side of her cheek split open. Her throat was bruised, the ugly purple and yellow marks in the form of handprints. There were ligature marks on her wrists and she was told, since she could see them, on her ankles as well.

  “You're lucky to be alive Olivia. But you're a survivor, you'll get through this.”

  “How...” she started to say, then “was... I...” she trailed off again, too scared to finish the statement.

  Dr. Henshaw put down the mirror, picked up her hand again and gave it a squeeze. Olivia couldn't look at her though, she didn't want to see the pity in the other woman's eyes. She knew the truth without even asking. She could feel the dull throbbing between her legs. The cramps and the pain as her womb attempted to heal itself.

  “Olivia.” Dr. Henshaw coaxed. “I can refer you to a good counselor if you'd like.”

  She turned her face, looked into the eyes of this strong and compassionate woman, and broke. The Doctor leaned forward, stroked a hand along her hair.

  “It's okay. It's going to be okay.”

  But it wasn't okay, it would never be okay again. Someone had attacked her. Someone had raped her and tried to kill her. And she couldn't remember any of it! She wanted to scream, she wanted to yell, but all she could do was cower and cry.

  It was hours later before Olivia woke again. After crying for what felt like a long time on the shoulder of Dr. Henshaw, Olivia had succumbed to her exhaustion. And for once she hadn't dreamt of the voice. She hadn't dreamt of a monster chasing her down and forcing himself into her body.

  Her brother was at her bedside. He smiled as their eyes met, dirty streaks marred his handsome face as he stared down at his beloved little sister. He'd been crying. He'd been crying for her. Olivia reached a hand up and wiped at the dirty marks. “Hi.” She mouthed more than spoke.

  “Oh Olivia!” He cried. “I was so worried about you!”

  Olivia shook her head, a sad smile playing over her swollen face.

  “What happened to you Olivia, who did this to you?”

  “I...don't...know.” She managed weakly.

  With one hand playing gently with her hair, his other fisted at his side, he grimaced slightly, trying his best to hide it from her. “When I find out who did this to you Olivia...” he said turning away so she couldn't read the anger in his eyes.

  She wanted to cry again, and she hoped, oh God she hoped he didn't know that she had been raped. She couldn't bear it if he knew.

  A nurse came in then, preventing her brother from saying anything else as he was asked to leave. The nurse checked her vitals, helped her drink some more water, and spooned some warm broth into her mouth as well before telling her that the police were there to see her. Her heart sank a little.

  The police.

  As if she weren't in enough pain already, now she had to share her anguish with complete strangers. Before the nurse could leave, and show the police in, Olivia grabbed her by the wrist.

  “My brother... does he...know?” she asked pleadingly, hoping the nurse would understand.

  She smiled, a young plump woman with a smile to rival the Mona Lisa. “No.” She said patting Olivia's hand reassuringly. “He doesn't know. I'm going to send in the detectives now. If you get too tired, just press that button over there and I'll run them off, okay?”

  Olivia nodded, she tried to smile as well. She wanted to push that button now. She didn't want to talk to the police, she didn't want to have to admit to being raped, admit that she couldn't remember anything. She was ashamed of it all. It didn't matter that it wasn't her fault, she was ashamed of herself. How could she have let something like this hap
pen?

  The detectives were very nice. The man, probably in his fifties, was tall and slender with a receding hairline and a soft grandfatherly tone when he spoke. His partner, a woman, who if Olivia had to guess was around forty, was very attractive, with long blonde hair that she pulled back in a ponytail, and a nurturing way of talking, that put Olivia at ease.

  They worked sex crimes. And they promised to be patient with Olivia. They had been informed and understood that she didn't remember anything after leaving work, and that she tired very easily at this point.

  Detective Ramsey, the woman, sat down beside her bed, held her hand, and nodded accordingly as her Partner, Detective Tomlin prodded her with questions and wrote down her answers. She couldn't tell them much.

  They, on the other hand, were able to fill in quite a few blanks for her. All the but the most important of course.

  Her cleaning lady, who came in three times a week, Saturday, Tuesday, and Thursday, found her in her bed on Saturday morning, naked, beaten, and barely alive. There was no sign of forced entry, so she had to have let her attacker in, possibly even known him. And there was little to no forensic evidence. Her bed had been stripped, the entire room cleaned with bleach, from the walls, to her mattress, right down to her own body. He had been thorough.

  Traces of blood had seeped into her mattress, and the hospital had of course done a rape kit, but they weren't overly hopeful on either account. Her assailant had either taken anything incriminating with him, or thoroughly cleaned everything else. They were certain the blood on the mattress was hers, and the rape kit had shown no signs of trace evidence. He'd scrubbed her completely, inside and out. Even if he hadn't worn a condom, he'd washed away any traces of his DNA. Then he'd tried to kill her. Or at least that's what they assumed.

  Thinking her dead, he'd left her there, completely naked and beaten to a pulp, though he'd taken the time to at least wash the blood off of her face and body, why, they couldn't begin to speculate. And thinking about it gave her the worst kind of headache. Long after the detectives left, handing her their card in case she remembered anything, Olivia thought about what they had told her.

  Someone had attacked her in her own home, possibly even someone she knew. He had tied her up, beaten her, raped her, cleaned up his mess, and tried to kill her. Would it matter to him that he had failed? Would he try to attack her again? And just how was she supposed to go back into that house now that someone had desecrated it the way he had? For that matter, how could she face Rosa, her housekeeper, knowing how the poor woman had found her, and likely saved her life?

  And what about her brother, should she, and could she tell him she had been raped? So many questions, and she without any of the answers. The most important of them all, where did she go from here?

  Be on the lookout for the full-length version of The Placebo Effect at you favorite ebook retailer, coming in 2017!

  As Olivia tries to reclaim her life, learning she's now carrying the child of a rapist, a man that may very well work for her! what will she do next?

  And what happens when Olivia literally stumbles into the man of her dreams? Will she tell him about the rape? about the baby? and will he love her anyways?

  Read along in this Romantic Suspense, as Olivia and Sebastian work through life's uncertainties together.

  Completely oblivious to the fact that something far more sinister is at hand. Someone is watching them, following their every move, plotting against them. For he won't let anyone else have what belongs to him. Even if he has to kill for it.