by Riley Moreno
So there was that idea shot down in a flash. He didn’t need her. But Julie needed him. She needed his understanding when everyone else just had questions. How was she supposed to get any kind of sleep if he wasn’t sitting at her bedside?
“Maybe I could just go with you,” Julie murmured.
His eyes entertained the request. Julie felt hopeful at the thought that he would quickly agree and take her away from everything as he had before.
“No,” he said.
Was it possible that even he didn’t want her near for too long? He needed to save her, and he’d done that. After seeing that she was still breathing and poised upon a road to recovery with no end in sight, he had done his part. What more did she want from him?
So much more.
“Listen to me.”
He sat on the edge of the bed and held her shoulders.
“Just give them a chance. Maybe… when you’re home, it’ll all click. Bet it will. I’m sure of it.”
Julie wasn’t, and she didn’t look at him or say another word as he left her side and started removing items of clothing from the suitcase.
“I think you should get dressed, Juliet.”
Wearily, she climbed out of the bed. Untying the gown at the neck, the flimsy garment fell to the floor, and once again she was naked in his eyes.
“Whoa! Wait.”
He grabbed the blanket and winded it around her bruised body. He was forever trying to preserve the modesty that she no longer possessed.
“There. Better?”
It wasn’t, but she nodded.
“Look I… I’ll wait in the hallway. When you’re ready, I’ll walk you out. Okay?”
“If you want,” she said.
“I do.”
He was gone. Julie let the blanket fall and retrieved the clothes from the bed along with the toothbrush. As she stepped into the small bathroom and clicked on the light, she hated the sight of a face that no one was ever going to love. She dressed slowly and started to remove the toothbrush from its plastic trappings. What did it matter if her breath was fresh? No one was ever going to get near enough to notice.
She threw it into the trash and left the room.
True to his word, Ethan was waiting. He held a small piece of paper in his hand, and when he saw Julie, he pressed it into her hand.
“Take this. Use it if you need to.”
Julie unfolded the slip and saw a phone number scribbled in red ink.
“If you need to talk, I’m here. Well there but you know.”
It was a little easier to go with the assurance that he wasn’t abandoning her entirely.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Don’t mention it.”
He placed his arm around her shoulders and walked her to the elevator. He kept her close as the car descended to the main floor, and as the doors slid open, Julie saw Sharon pacing and picking at her nails. Upon catching sight of her daughter, she stood still and waited for Julie’s approach.
“Juliet?”
She eagerly looked to Ethan as he touched her elbow.
“You can do this. And like I said. You call me if you need anything.”
Hating to leave him, she nodded and marched to her mother like a condemned woman. Sharon nodded at Ethan and guided her daughter into the morning. Looking over her shoulder one last time, Ethan gave her a small wave as he disappeared from her sight.
The car was torture. Not the same agony that she had become so familiar with during the long months of captivity, but awful just the same. Sharon spoke, but not to her, never to her. She filled the air with banal comments about gutters and new furniture. While Julie was raped for hours on end, her mother had sifted through swatches of fabric. Sharon mentioned the friends from Julie’s last party and a Labor Day barbecue.
“We’re still doing that?” Greg asked. His eyes were in the rearview mirror, staring hard at Julie’s pale reflection. Even in the air conditioned space, beads of sweat dotted his forehead. As Julie craned her head over the seat, she saw his hands clutching the steering wheel with such intensity that his knuckles were white. At least he was something in the face of everything that had happened. Angry, nervous, uncomfortable. So was Sharon. But she had her own way of showing it, which was no way at all.
“Of course not,” Sharon snipped. “We can’t now.”
Why? Because Julie needed her close to home as she tried to return to her former life? Or because the shame of having a ruined daughter was too much to explain let alone bear? Falling back against her seat, Julie watched the towns flick by from the straight line that was the highway. These were roads she had travelled with Kim. If her friend ever made the return trip, there would be nothing but blackness in her point of view. Julie unfolded the piece of paper that had stayed in her hand from the moment Ethan handed it over. She traced the numbers carefully. Could she call him tonight? Could she call him now? Julie didn’t have a cell, and the thought of having to ask for a replacement while still under her parents’ plan felt like asking for one more thing that they just couldn’t give her. But once she was back under their roof, there would be other ways to contact Ethan.
As the car glided up her street, Julie smiled at the trees that she feared never seeing again, and kids on bikes raced to stave off the inevitable return of textbooks and teachers. She remembered those problems and wanted them back as the car pulled up the driveway.
Home.
Julie couldn’t help but cry at the sight of it, and Greg had to help her from the backseat. She leaned against him as he quickly ushered her towards the door and settled her on the couch of the great room. Looking around at the knick knacks and photographs from the moments of her life when she could never have conceived of what would happen to her, Julie tried to be the person she had been before everything was ripped away. Julie Edwards, shy and sweet and making good grades even as her future seemed an uncertain state after the loss of her father. But Julie carried on after that moment. Hard as it would be, she could do it again. Ethan believed in her.
Looking at his number again, she wondered if it was too soon to call him now. Was he even home yet? But this had to be his cell. He hadn’t lost it in the woods. So there was no reason…
No. She had to give this a shot.
She eased her body off the sofa and found her way to the kitchen. Sharon was making sandwiches like a woman possessed, and Greg tapped his foot against the side of his stool. In this house, in her house, he seemed the better option if she had any hope of achieving true contact with another, and she sat beside him. As she tied her hair back, Greg shifted his eyes to hers and focused only on the covered wound that was bound to leave yet another mark on her skin.
“Hurts?” he asked, knowing and not knowing.
Feeling exposed, Julie just nodded and lowered her hair again. It spilled over her shoulders, and she hid behind the brown locks as Sharon placed a plate of tuna on rye before her.
“Real food,” Sharon said, trying to strike the old poses. “Much better than hospital fare.”
Yes and no. Julie took a bit and savored lemon mingling with the mayo and the fish. But breakfast with Ethan had been better. She wanted to call him tonight, and maybe she could use the idea of a meal, a simple meal, to take her leave of the place from which he wanted her to try while she just wanted to escape. Again.
Greg pushed his plate away and placed a clumsy hand on Julie’s shoulder.
“Julie? I think you should tell us everything that happened.”
Before she could object, Sharon was slamming her glass of Crystal Light on the counter. She flashed her eyes at the pair of them.
“We know what happened, Greg. Let’s just drop it.”
“But I need to know.”
“Why?”
“Because… because Julie wants to tell us. And… and we have to know if she learned anything that could keep her in harm’s way.”
Julie gagged on a piece of bread. She barely felt Greg’s hand quickly slapping her back a
s the suggestion gained reality. Matt was dead. Pete was incapacitated. The scum from last week had a lot to answer for. But there were others. Some of them were still in shadows. Others were men that Julie could identify if given enough time to study they photographs. Would they come back when she started to spill? And what then? A quick death? Unanticipated and painless? Or would she find herself shackled again, having to meet a slow end by way of brutal hands?
Julie spun away from the bar and headed for the stairs. She took them two at a time and pried open her bedroom door.
Her room.
It was exactly as she had left it. Purple and floral and filled with pictures of Kim. Julie plucked a snapshot from the mirror and looked at her friend in the days before they were slaves. Kim’s face was confident as Julie’s head rested against her shoulder. Kim flashed the peace sign with one hand held a drink in the other. In the picture, Kim didn’t know the meaning of fear, but one stupid call had acquainted her with the term until it killed her. Julie was angry at what had been done to them, but Amanda Beyer’s drug-induced delirium aside, the trip was never of her design. Why not just stay home and bum around, smoking and drinking and sleeping until noon until the real world came knocking? But Kim just had to hurry things along. They were supposed to see the country. They had seen sights that weren’t on any map. And it wasn’t Julie’s fault.
She tore the picture to shreds and collapsed upon the tatters, her body wracked with sobs. Crying, she heard the door crack open, and she turned her face expecting Greg. Her mother had no desire to see her, and Greg wanted information.
To Julie’s surprise, the figure in the door was the lady cop from the hospital who had also pressed her for details. But unlike Greg, her tone was gentle, and this was her job. Julie was up as the woman entered her bedroom.
“Julie? Do you remember me?”
She nodded without words, and the woman tried to take her arm. Julie squirmed from her hold and sat down on her bed. She folded her arms around her chest and glared up at the cop.
“Morales, right? What do you want?
Morales took the lead and sat on the bed, as far as possible from Julie’s side.
“Hanging in there?” she asked.
“Just great,” Julie said as she tried to use more of her hair to hide her bandage.
Morales inched closer and tentatively took Julie’s hand. Julie didn’t shy away from the contact. Her hand wasn’t Ethan’s, but it was warm and sure. She raised her eyes to the cop. Morales reached into her pocket and wiped her face with a crusty tissue.
“There’s people you can talk to. They’ll help you.”
More questions. Wonderful.
“But that’s not why I’m here.”
At least Morales was honest. She wasn’t one of the touch feely associates that wanted to know every aspect of her feelings. Anyway, it seemed like a series of idiotic questions. How was she? She was damaged goods. Everyone knew that.
Everyone but Ethan.
“So… so what do you want?”
Morales retrieved a tablet and swiped a picture to life.
Julie trembled at the sight of Pete.
“Mr. Bowen,” Morales said.
Julie forgot fear and returned to hate. She wanted Pete dead. No. She wanted him bound and screaming and shaking as the days bled into one another and offered no hope of reprieve.
Morales turned the pic from Julie’s view and returned it to her shoulder bag.
“He’ll live?” Julie asked.
“Oh yes,” Morales answered. “To face the consequences of his actions.”
Three squares and a heated cell. That was justice? He deserved a prison without hope.
“Thing is, Julie. You’re just the tip of the iceberg. We’re finding other lost girls and… and bodies.”
Julie looked at the floor and felt a wave of guilt wash over her at her figurative murder of Kim when she was one of Morales’ latter instead of the former.
“How many?” Julie asked.
Morales sighed and took her hand.
“That’s not important right now. We’ll find the common thread. Would you like to talk with the other survivors? It might help.”
Comparing notes and possibly chancing upon a shared rapist in a small room with coffee and danish? Julie shook her head.
“Okay. Maybe it’s too soon. Can you tell me anything else, Julie?”
Julie raised her eyes to Morales’ face. She had already done this. How many times did she have to relive it until the end came?
“I’m done,” Julie said.
Morales’ face was disappointed as she stood and headed for the door. Before she was out of the room, she turned back and smiled.
“We’ll talk again, Julie. When you’re ready.”
And she was gone.
Julie cried loudly, but no one moved to hold her. Soon it would be dinner, and she couldn’t stand the thought of another meal under this roof.
Racing down the stairs, she felt Greg’s eyes on hers as she reached his office and closed the door.
A landline.
She unfolded Ethan’s number and called him quickly. The space between the three rings was endless, and she wiped her eyes until his voice emerged on the other end of the line.
“Hello?”
Julie relaxed at the sound of his voice.
“Ethan. Ethan, I…”
She couldn’t carry on and just cried.
“Juliet! What’s wrong?”
Everything. But there was no time to explain and with him, really no need. She just had to see him again,
“Please save me. Again.”
18
She was waiting for a car on the porch. Her bag, barely packed, now filled with the clothes she had left behind, was at her feet. Her mother couldn’t do anything but stare at her with dull eyes before heading to her bedroom.
Greg was a different story.
“What do you know about him, Julie? He was one of them.”
Julie twisted her head and stepped away from Greg’s touch.
“He’s not. You don’t know him. He was the one---”
Greg grabbed her roughly.
“Then he’s even more dangerous. He might sell you out to sell the story.”
“What are you---?”
“It’s his big chance. Talking out of school to make a buck. You are not going with him.”
Greg’s hold was too tight as Julie tried to squirm away. He kept his hands on her arms, and Julie was sent back to other grasps that didn’t care as she begged for everything to just stop.
“Let me go.”
“You’re staying here.”
“Let me go!”
She struggled against Greg as a car raced up the drive and kept its lights on. Julie saw a figure emerge from the driver’s seat, and she’d seen enough of him in shadows to know that Ethan had simply obeyed and was here to take her away from the home she could no longer stand.
“Hey! Take your hands off her.”
The injured arm was freed from the sling and simply covered in gauze. He neared the porch. Greg hesitated, but Julie took the moment and pulled away from her stepfather. She fell against Ethan, and he held her close. With her ear to his chest, she could feel the furious pounding of his heart as his hands quietly found her hair.
“I’m sorry, Ethan. I just couldn’t do it. Please help me.”
Their eyes met. Julie was still devastated in his presence. Was there a chance that he would ever know her another way? At this precise second, she didn’t care. She just wanted to get away from what was supposed to be shelter when it was every horrible thing she’d fought to escape.
“Ethan?”
He pushed her behind him and moved up the steps. When he was a single breath from Greg, Ethan rose to his full height and glared at her stepfather.
“You couldn’t just tell her that it would be alright? What the hell is wrong with you?”
Greg was silent as Ethan picked up the bag and returned to Julie’s s
ide. Once her luggage was secured in the trunk, he carefully eased her into the passenger’s seat.
Greg rushed forward.
“No one’s taking her away again. Who do you think you---?”
Ethan answered the question with a fist in Greg’s face. Greg stumbled back as Ethan settled into the driver’s seat and set the car into reverse. They sped down the driveway, and Ethan gunned the car towards the road as Julie saw Greg struggling to his feet.
Was he right? Was Julie about to leave the home that was now cold but oddly familiar only to return to another dungeon where she was destined for nothing but torture?
No.
Greg was wrong. Ethan wasn’t one of them. He‘d proven as much more times than she could count. Julie curled up in the passenger’s seat and kept her eyes on Ethan.
“You came,” she said.
Ethan nodded as he kept his eyes on the road. He seemed determined to get her far away from what was supposed to be the endgame. But it wasn’t home. Not anymore. At least she was with him. Without Kim, Ethan was the only person that she could truly trust.
He passed the local diner. The Starlight. Julie had munched many a seasoned fry at the tables littered with placemats advertising Knox’s Funeral Home and Candy’s SAT tutoring. Both were paths to dead ends.
“Let’s keep driving,” Ethan said.
Julie was glad. The thought of sitting in what was basically a New Jersey replica of Eatonsburg’s Eats was more than she could tolerate, and Ethan eased the car onto the highway and started towards the city.
As the exit markers flew past, Julie felt herself leaving her home for something new.
The city. It was familiar enough yet still strange as it beckoned her away from the bedroom that made no sense. What went down after she left? Greg probably stumbled back to the house to ice his face. Ethan’s punch was strong and everything Julie needed at that moment. So he probably returned to her mother and blamed Julie for the blow. Sharon would go along with it as she also blamed Julie for her undesired part in the play. Maybe they’d call Morales and reveal where she was, where she was going. Beyond that, they, her mother especially, would be glad that the marked girl with the sliced face was out of their home.