Heavy (Heavy Hearts Book 1)

by Sarah Jane Duncan

  Okay, this is good, Lexi. So far, Ayden hasn’t lied.

  An inviting grey cushioned couch sits before the fireplace, and when Ayden leans down to put me on it, I tense. Suddenly the thought of not being in the safety of his arms seems terrifying.

  “Hey,” Ayden croons, “It’s okay, Lex, you’re safe here.” Looking up into his eyes, I plead with them for the truth. Am I really safe here? His eyes are so sincere, and I instantly hate myself for doubting him. “I’ll be right here with you, okay?”

  I nod slightly, and he moves to put me down again.

  I shift nervously on the couch, trying to make sure the blanket covers all of my skin, and peer at the two men before me. Their resemblance is unmistakable. They are very much father and son, having similar features with the same dark hair, blue eyes, and chiselled jawline. I start to relax.

  Ayden’s dad clears his throat, “Lexi, is it?”

  I nod at him in response.

  “I’m Peter, Ayden’s dad. He uh- filled me in a little about what’s going on.”

  Confused, I look at Ayden, and he shrugs, “I called dad on the way here while you were asleep.”

  Nodding again, I try not to be rude, “I’m not sure what Ayden told you, and I appreciate the help, but I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Peter nods as if he’d expected me to respond that way, but his face holds a determination that tells me he’s not giving up so easily.

  “I understand you’ve been through a very traumatic experience, but I’m afraid we will have to have a quick chat about it.”

  “Dad!” Ayden’s face reddens, turning to his dad.

  “No, Ayden. I realise that you’re trying to protect your friend, but my job, as your father and an adult, is to make sure we do the right thing.”

  Dread claws at me, my chest squeezing in a tight invisible grip. He’s going to call my dad and believe his lies and be like all the other adults in my life that turn a blind eye. I can’t let that happen.

  “I don’t mean to be rude or ungrateful, Mr Mitchell, but so far, all the adults in my life have done me wrong, so forgive me if I don’t feel like adding another one to the list.”

  Peter sighs, raking his hand through his thick dark hair, the movement reminding me of his son.

  “Look, I hear what you’re saying, so let me make this promise to you. I will help Ayden keep you safe. I won’t let your father or your brother take you away. I will fight for you, Lexi, but in order to do that, I need to know everything.”

  “Everything?” I whisper, tears filling my eyes.

  Peter nods and turns to Ayden, “Buddy, perhaps you should go to the kitchen, give me some time alone with Lexi. It might be easier for her to talk about things if you’re not here.”

  “What! No, dad, I’m not leaving her. I promised her I wouldn’t leave her.” Ayden’s fists tighten by his sides, struggling to reign in his anger.

  “That’s not up to you, Buddy. It's Lexi’s decision. If she needs you to leave so she can talk freely, then you have to respect her wishes.” Wow, Peter means business, his face showing a mature sternness that demands his son’s obedience. I watch emotions flit across Ayden’s face as he looks between me and his dad, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows.

  “I can’t tell you everything.” My shameful whisper is directed at both Ayden and Peter. When I see Ayden’s pained expression, tears spring from my sore eyes.

  “I need you to try so we can help you, Lexi.” Peter directs his stern tone to me now, but it’s not as demanding as it was with Ayden.

  I take a long moment to stare into Peter’s eyes, needing to believe his promises. When I’m sure that I can, I nod at him before glancing at Ayden. He’s nervous. I can tell he wants to stay with me and know all of my vile truths. There’s a part of me that doesn’t want him to know, doesn’t want him to see who I really am. There’s also a part of me who is exhausted from hiding and hopes Ayden won’t be repulsed when he learns the truth.

  With my mind made up, I reach out to him and watch the relief fall over his face. He doesn’t hesitate to take my hand, and he joins me on the couch, keeping my hand in his.

  “Uh- Can I get dressed first?” I ask Peter, who is dragging a brown ottoman across the room to sit on.

  “Can we chat first? Then I’ll leave you be for the night.”

  I sigh nervously, not wanting to do this and not sure where to start. As perceptive as his son, Peter prompts me.

  “Tell me about your brother.”

  Swallowing hard, I try not to cry again, and instead, I focus on the hate I have toward Mike.

  “Mike is my half-brother. My dad had him before he married my mum. He only used to come and stay with us for holidays when we were kids, but that stopped a few years ago. I guess he got too old and didn’t want to come and visit anymore, but a few months ago, he turned up and hasn’t left since.” Taking a deep breath, I try to shake off the tightness constricting my chest again. “He has always been different. Mean, in-appropriate, irrational. But now, he’s…” I swallow the lump in my throat, “A monster.”

  Ayden’s thumb strokes over the back of my hand in support, and his touch, I realise, is keeping me grounded.

  “Ayden said that you had a run-in with your father last night here in the city, and then he approached you on the way to school this morning, wanting you to go with him. How did you end up back with him after you went to school?”

  I take a deep breath, not wanting to relive my dad's deceit. “He went to the principal. Told him that I am suffering from a mental illness and that I’m self-harming. He convinced Principal Ryland that he was there to collect me from school to get me help. He gave me a cup of water to drink when I walked in. I didn’t think anything of it, and I stupidly drank it. The water must have been spiked or something because not long after I started feeling weird, and my words started slurring. I tried to get away, but my legs wouldn’t work, and I fell. I blacked out and the next thing I knew, I was waking up at home with my dad and Mike there. As punishment for being disobedient, my dad took the doors off the rooms upstairs and took away my phone and laptop before leaving me there with Mike.”

  “Did your brother do that to you?” Peter gestures to the left side of my beaten face, and I nod.

  “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

  I nod, “My back and ribs. H-he threw me around a bit. I hit the wall and some furniture.”

  Ayden tenses beside me and growls, causing Peter to give him a warning glare.

  “My scalp hurts. I think he ripped out some of my hair when he dragged me.”

  Ayden flies out of his seat, “I’m gonna’ fucking kill him!”

  Peter stands to go to his son, “Ayden, stop. This is why I was concerned about you being here. Your reaction won’t help Lexi.”

  “Dad, are you shitting me right now! He fucking dragged her by her hair!” Ayden points in my direction, and his face turns almost purple, anger radiating from him in waves.

  “Ayden, if you can’t handle this, then leave the room!” Peter’s boom causes me to flinch back and whimper, getting Ayden’s attention. He fights to calm himself, raking his hand through his hair, just like his dad did earlier.

  “No, I’m okay, sorry,” he turns to me, “Sorry, Lex.”

  I don’t respond, too busy biting the inside of my cheek to control my urge to run. Maybe this isn’t such a good idea. I should just leave and deal with this on my own.

  Ayden returns to sit beside me on the couch and takes my hand in his again. I exhale, releasing my teeth and soaking up the calming feel of his touch.

  Peter sits again, too, dragging his focus away from his son and back to me. “Do you hurt anywhere else, Lexi?”

  “My arm. He grabbed me in the same place as my dad did the night before. And my face hurts too.”

  Peter nods, “Anywhere else?”

  I shake my head, “No, I think that’s it.”

  “Are you sure, Lexi? Your brother didn’t hurt you anywhere e
lse?”

  Frowning at Peter’s repetitive questions, it takes me a moment to realise what he is trying to ask.

  “Are you asking me if he raped me?” Thinking back over everything, I have no doubt that my brother would have raped me if Ayden hadn’t come when he did.

  Ayden tenses again at my question, his breath hitching.

  Peter sighs, “Yes, I guess I am.”

  I hate that this is even a consideration, but the simple fact is, it was so close to happening. I can’t bear to look at Ayden or his dad in this moment. I feel so much shame. The whole situation is just too sick and twisted to share with anyone, but I know I have to sum up all the courage I can in order to continue speaking.

  Keeping my eyes downcast, I focus on the seam of the throw blanket that has become my second skin. “No, some visitors came to our house and interrupted him, so he never got that far.”

  Ayden lets out the breath he was holding and drops his head into his hands, leaning on his knees perched on the edge of the couch. He looks so depleted. I hate that I’ve affected him like this.

  “Buddy,” Peter moves to Ayden’s other side, “She’s okay, Ayden.”

  Is Ayden crying?

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper the words to Ayden, feeling bad that I’ve caused him such distress.

  He turns to me then, his eyes red and glassy.

  “Can I please hug you?”

  I nod without hesitation, and it’s all he needs from me before he cradles me in his arms. He holds me in such a way as if letting me go is too painful. Closing my eyes, I take the care he offers, and I hold him just as tightly, not wanting to ever let go. The addictive scent that is Ayden Mitchell envelops me, and the calm it brings makes me want to hold on even tighter. I could happily stay like this all night in Ayden’s embrace, but the sound of Peter clearing his throat breaks our bubble, and Ayden slowly pulls back, his eyes roaming my face, bruises, swelling, and all.

  “Sorry, Lexi, just a few more questions.” I give a nod, and Peter continues while Ayden pulls me to his side, “Ayden said that you were soaking wet and wrapped in just the blanket when he found you. Can I ask why?”

  I can’t speak. I don’t want to say it.

  “I’m sorry, I know this is hard, but every bit of information you can provide will help.” I know Peter is right, but it doesn’t make it any easier. I focus on the blanket’s seam again, not wanting to look them in the eye when I admit this next part.

  “Mike insisted that I… shower,” I choke on a sob, “I-in front of him.” As my tears fall, my mind goes back to a time I’d rather forget. “That’s why I got so beat up because I wouldn’t do what he asked. But then, I-I thought he might k-kill me, so I did it.”

  I don’t look up, the silence blanketing the room is all I need to know. They think I’m disgusting.

  “Did he touch you? Inappropriately, I mean, or did he do anything else inappropriate?”

  “What do you mean, dad? The whole fucking thing is inappropriate!” Ayden hisses, standing again to pace the room.

  Ignoring Ayden, Peter urges, “Lexi?”

  I shake my head, and with tears streaming down my face, I whisper, “I can’t say it.”

  Ayden stops pacing, his feet now pointing in my direction in front of the couch. I can’t help but look up into the pained eyes of the boy who broke down my walls and became my lifeline.

  “He didn’t touch me.” I need Ayden to know that truth. There are so many disgusting things about this whole situation, but I need him to at least know that I fought hard to keep Mike from touching me in such an intimate way.

  “But he did something inappropriate?” Reluctantly, I nod in answer to Peter’s question, “Was it something sexual?”

  I gag, my eyes bulging. I stand quickly, clapping my hand over my mouth.

  Knowing what is about to happen, Peter points to a door in the hall, “Toilet’s in there.”

  I bolt, the blanket trailing behind me as I push through the door just in time to empty my stomach into Peter’s toilet. I try to expel the filthy taint that runs thick in my blood with each retch—each sick act by my brother, and each deception by my dad. When my body is drained, I force it to do it again, needing to exorcise the perversion.

  When the horrid act is over, and I’m feeling spent, I continue to cry silently and lay the unharmed side of my face on the cold tiled floor. I want this nightmare to end. I want to run away and forget it ever happened. Even as I think this, I know I’ll never be able to forget what Mike did, what my dad did. I will carry this heaviness with me for the rest of my life. I know I will somehow have to learn how to live in that world from now on.

  A knock sounds at the door, and I know it's Ayden. He’s probably worried out of his mind. The look on his face when he realised that something more had happened besides being beaten by my brother will haunt me forever. I never want to see his caring face with that expression on it again.

  The knock sounds again. I’m too tired to stand, but I pull the blanket over me, ensuring that I am covered. “It’s open.”

  The door cracks open slowly, and Ayden peers down at me on the floor. I try my best at a reassuring smile. His small one, in return, tells me I failed, but he appreciated it anyway.

  “No more questions tonight. We should clean you up and get you to bed.”

  Bed. Sleep sounds like heaven, so I nod eagerly, and Ayden leans down to help me stand.

  “Are you okay to walk?” Ayden accepts my nod and puts his arm around me, leading me through his dad’s apartment. Peter is nowhere in sight, and I’m thankful. He seems like a nice man, but I don’t want to talk about this fucked up stuff anymore.

  Ayden leads me into a bedroom. His bedroom. I can tell because it smells like him. I’m pretty sure I’ll never want to leave this room ever again. Sitting my bag on his bed, he gestures to a door to the side.

  “The bathroom is through that door. Do you, um, need me to help you?”

  He is sweet. I can see how uncomfortable he is asking that question, but I can also see that he wants to help.

  I shake my head in answer, “Can I borrow your phone?”

  His brows shoot up in surprise, but he nods, “Yes, of course. Call whoever you need to.”

  I nod, but I won’t be calling anyone, not now anyway. Since my dad took my phone, I need to use Ayden’s to take some photos. I need to record the evidence on my body while it is still raw and bloody.

  Ayden hands me his phone and goes to leave the room.

  “Wait!”

  He stops, turning back to me in surprise.

  I shake my head, “I’m sorry, but can you stay in your room while I shower?” I hate that my voice gives away how needy and vulnerable I am.

  Ayden smiles warmly, “Of course.”

  “Thank you.” I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to thank him enough for everything he’s done. I will, though, somehow, I will find a way.

  Taking my bag into the bathroom, I’m surprised at how big it is and how different it is from his mum's in Fox Pines. Where that one is small and basic, this one is large with warm timber imitation tiles on the floor and a rustic timber vanity with white stone benchtops that tie in with the white toilet and bath. The walls are lined with white subway tiles and above the toilet are two black canvases, one with a bronze image of a Sherrin football and the other a bronze football player taking a mark. This room is much more Ayden than the one at Fox Pines. He must miss living here with his dad. I’m guessing his parents must be divorced or something, which is sad. Both of his parents seem so nice.

  Knowing I have to get this over and done with, I drop my bag to the floor and approach the large mirror. The swelling around my left eye is worse than I thought, and my skin blends into shades of blue, black, green, and red. There are patches of dry blood too, and when I try to open my eye as much as the swelling will allow, I can just make out that the white of my eye is now blood red.

  I drop the blanket that has been my second skin in shock. T
he bruising runs down my neck with several trails of blood following its path down to my chest. My arm looks worse than it did after dad had his way with it, and there is hideous purple and green bruising on my left ribs wrapping around to my back. Looking down at my legs, I see they came out the least scathed, only marked with a few scratches.

  It’s overwhelming to see myself like this, but I remind myself that it could have been worse. So much worse. I could be in a hospital getting tested with a rape kit, or worse, dead. I want to cry, but I don’t. I’m safe now, and I know I’m going to do everything I can to make sure this doesn’t happen again.

  I pick up Ayden’s phone and start snapping pictures of my face, neck, arms, and head. I manage to get a couple of pictures of the side of my ribs, but I can’t seem to get a good shot of my back, given the angle.

  I sigh, knowing I’m going to need help.

  Grabbing the blanket and wrapping it around myself again, I crack the door open. Ayden is lying on his bed, his face creased in a frown as he stares at the ceiling. I clear my throat, and his frown fades as he looks at me.

  “You okay, Lex?”

  I open the door a little more, “Can you please give me a hand with something?”

  “Yeah, of course,” he jumps off the bed and is over to me in an instant.

  “I ah… was trying to get pictures of the bruising, but I can’t get a good one of my back.”

  Leaning against the door frame, Ayden lifts his hand to the good side of my face, stroking my cheek.

  “I can take the picture for you, Lex.” His voice is so soft and warm, and I don’t even realise that I close my eyes and lean into his hand. My eyes flutter open when I feel the warmth of his lips on my temple, and I sigh. If Ayden Mitchell were a drug, then I’m addicted!

  When I look back up to his eyes, I see they are filled with worry, so I distract him and pull him towards the mirror, handing him his phone. He’s quiet as he scrolls through the pictures I already took. He looks anguished, and I can tell he’s blaming himself for not stopping it. It’s not his fault, though, and I will make sure he knows that when we talk more about things, but not right now. Now I need to focus on the task at hand to get cleaned up so I can go to bed. I take a deep breath and carefully let the blanket drop down my back while clutching it to my chest.