“River, we did report this to the police. A couple officers are here and want to speak with you. Is that okay?” Julie asks softly. Her face. That’s true concern. I appreciate that, but I really fucking wish she wouldn’t have called them. I know it’d be the obvious thing to do with normal families, but that’s not me. I don’t come from a functional family that cares about each other.
I force a smile and nod. She goes to call them in.
“Don’t you worry, River, they’ll figure out who did it. And when they do, I’ll be sure to put them away for life,” Matt says, leaning forward to pat my leg in assurance. How sweet, but not going to happen.
When they walk in, Mako stands. He obviously knows them.
“River, I’m Officer Brady and this is Officer Gonzalez. I see you already know Detective Fitzgerald.”
Unfortunately.
The officer who introduced himself is a stocky man with a shining bald head and a bushy, blonde mustache. His head is red from the sun. He should put some sunblock on.
“Hi,” I say shortly. Officer Gonzalez steps forward. He’s attractive, with Hispanic heritage and warm chocolate eyes. I’d probably be interested in him if I lived a different life.
“River, do you remember anything that took place last night?”
“Based off where I am right now, I assume I was jumped.” Ryan tenses from beside me.
“Do you know who they were?”
A heartbeat passes.
“No.”
“Understandable, you were hit pretty hard in the head,” Officer Gonzalez concedes. “Do you remember where you were?”
Do you know, do you remember, do you this, do you that…
“Shallow Hill.”
The officers shift uncomfortably. The police force mostly stays away from that area. It’s only twenty-five minutes from where I live, but it might as well be a whole other state. I’ve always wanted to move out of state, but I got too damn attached to the college I was attending, and the people in it.
Amelia… Ryan…
Stupid, River.
“Why were you there?” Ryan asks this time.
“To see my mother,” I answer shortly.
“River, do you remember anything about the night you were attacked? If there were more than one. What they looked like. If they said anything?” Officer Gonzalez asks, pinning me with warm sympathetic eyes.
His sympathy bounces off me like a basketball on the court. I’ve received sympathy my whole life for my situation, yet only one person cared enough to get me out of it, and she died before she could. Countless teachers and adults have crossed my path, and all of them turned a blind eye, even when I showed up to school dirty and covered in bruises. That’s what all the kids looked like that came from Shallow Hill. It wasn’t anything new to them.
These police officers aren’t going to be much different. They’ll pretend to care, ask questions, and then they’ll poke around for a few clues. When they don’t find anything and all their leads dry up, they’ll drop the façade, and I’ll be grateful for that. Because the minute these cops ask the wrong questions to the wrong people, they’ll go missing without a trace.
You’re welcome.
“I think it was just one person. But he came from behind me. I don’t remember anything,” I answer robotically.
They ask a few more probing questions without getting much of an answer from me.
Officer Brady clears his throat and steps forward, a card in hand. “We’ll need to take a statement from you when you get out. If you remember anything, gives us call.”
I nod and take it, and they both leave. It should go in the trash, but for reasons I can’t name, I hold onto it. Mako follows behind them, more than likely to tell his side of the story. Meddling fool.
Julie and Matt leave a few minutes later, wishing me well and promising to stop by again soon. Their concern warms my heart. I’ve never had a family before.
“RYAN!” I SHOUT FROM the couch.
No answer.
He’s barely spoken to me since I was discharged from the hospital, which was only yesterday. He hasn’t yelled at me or questioned me, either. He’s just… silent.
“Ryan!” I try again.
I’m stuck. Every muscle in my body is sore. My skin is mottled with bruises everywhere and I still can’t move easily. It feels like a plane crash-landed directly on my body. Billy beat my entire body senseless. It’s a wonder that I didn’t end up with more complications than a couple broken ribs and black and blue skin.
“RYAN!” I scream, despite my ribs screaming at me in return.
I have to pee. Like really bad.
I attempt to sit up, but the pain is blinding. The doc sent me home with pain killers, but they only take the edge off. Gritting my teeth, I manage to sit myself up. I blow out a harsh breath before I haul myself up. Dizziness immediately assaults me, and before I know it, I’m back on my ass again.
This reminds me of being small again, when I was helpless and had no one to help me when I need to pee or eat. Most days, I ended up peeing myself until I had the strength to get up. It was also a pretty good deterrent from men. Fucking a little girl isn’t wrong but when she reeks of piss? Oh no, that’s gross. I promised myself I’d never go back to those days, where spoiling myself and going days on end without food was my way of life. La de da, here I am once again.
“Ryan!” I try once more, frustrated tears pricking my eyes.
I hear him moving around upstairs, and I know the bastard can hear me. There’s a half-bath on the other side of the house, but with how slow I’d move, it’d take me forever to get there myself. He doesn’t even need to carry me there; I just need help getting up and walking there. Giving a little assistance never fucking killed anyone the last time I checked.
The pressure in my bladder builds to the point that I’m cramping. It’s painful, and when I realize that I’m not going to make it to the bathroom, the tears bloom and fall over the eyes in rivers.
At least the couch is leather.
“Ryan!” I scream once more. The effort causes my bladder to release. A sob releases from my throat as I completely lose all dignity and piss myself on the couch. And when he still doesn’t answer, I’m forced to lay in it. Just like when I was kid.
Promises, promises, River. Can’t even keep promises to your own damn self.
The warmth is sickening, and soon, my skin grows itchy. My ass will never forget the feeling of rashes on the most sensitive areas on my body. They were almost as horrid as the injuries themselves. Bad enough that I’d use my precious money for food on rash cream instead.
Snot soon joins the salty tears tracking down my face. Angrily, I wipe it away, but the tears and snot keep coming, which further frustrates me.
I’m fucking soaked enough, I don’t need this shit.
After another ten minutes, I hear Ryan’s footsteps. And I’m pissed. Fury boils in my veins. I’m trembling from the rage. How dare he leave me here by myself, completely incapacitated? It’s not like he left me for a minute, he’s been upstairs for over an hour.
He’s the one that brought me down here, claiming a change of scenery would help pep me up. He brings me down here, and then leaves me?
But no, I could’ve dealt with that. It’s the fact that I screamed for him several times, and he ignored me. He fucking ignored me.
He rounds the couch and then freezes when he sees my predicament. I’m nearly frothing at the mouth, but I keep my mouth shut. I want to see what he does first.
“You pissed all over my couch?”
I didn’t think it was possible to get angrier, but here we are.
“Are you serious right now?” I spit. I could literally kill him. “I yelled for you five fucking times!”
He looks down at the mess, anger flashing in his eyes. His jaw clenches and he turns his eyes up to glare at me. “I was busy,” he states.
“Doing what?!”
“None of your fucking business,” he snaps.
“It’s not my business? Really? What could possibly be more important than coming downstairs when you’re injured girlfriend needs you?!”
He stalks towards me and leans down in my face.
“If you want to act like a bitch, then I’ll fucking leave you to stew in your piss,” he threatens. It takes everything in me to keep my mouth closed. Everything. “If anyone has the right to be mad, it’s me. You went to that fucking bitch’s house and got yourself jumped. It’s your own goddamn fault, and you lied to the police about who did it. You’re protecting the people who injured you, so you can suffer through it.”
Speechless. I’m absolutely speechless. I had already blamed myself for putting myself in that situation, but I certainly didn’t ask for it. And I sure as hell didn’t deserve it.
“You also turned down a rape kit. And you know what that tells me, River?” He doesn’t give me time to answer. “It tells me you fucked someone and don’t want to get caught.”
I blanch, my eyes widening with disbelief.
“Is that what you believe, Ryan? You think I went out and asked for any of this?”
“So, you admit you fucked someone?” he shouts, his spine snapping straight.
“No!” I protest angrily.
“Then why not get the rape kit?”
“Because I wasn’t raped!”
“How do you know? You said you don’t remember.”
“Because I’d be able to fucking know if someone hurt me down there!”
“Fucking liar!” he screams, right before his hand whips out backhands me across the face. The pain doesn’t register at first. I’m in too much shock.
No—my boyfriend couldn’t have just hit me when I’ve already been beaten half to death. No—not when he loves me.
But the pain does come for me, and it hurts. Everything hurts, including the goddamn muscle inside my chest that keeps getting me in these situations.
How could he treat me like this? How could he hurt me? And why can’t I be able to tell my truth to my boyfriend, and be comfortable and confident that he won’t blame me? That he won’t hit me?
I had no idea Billy was even going to be there. As much as he likes to call me a ghost, he doesn’t show up to that house but a few times a year. Usually Barbie goes to him. He caught us both by surprise.
“I don’t believe you,” he hisses, not even a miniscule amount of remorse reflected in his darkened eyes.
“Why?” I demand pitifully.
“Because you’re a liar. Mako was the one that found you and brought you in. How did that happen, River? Is he the one you fucked? Maybe you didn’t go to Shallow Hill at all. Maybe you let that piece of shit fuck you and he decided to beat you, too. Wouldn’t fucking surprise me.”
Hypocrite.
But there’s the accusation I was waiting for. I knew he’d somehow involve Mako in this. I knew he’d assume I’m cheating on him with his brother. I knew it was coming, yet the accusation pisses me off to high heaven anyway.
“I was just driving and pulled over. I had no idea it was his house. It was… coincidence.”
A high-pitched, crazed laugh bursts out of his throat.
“Coincidence?” he repeats shrilly. “I doubt that. I knew you had a thing for him the moment you met him. You’re a goddamn whore, River.”
“I am not!” I screech. I’m just—I’m just so fucking tired of being called a whore!
“You are,” he growls. “He likes to call himself my brother, but he’s not. He’s a fraud pretending to play the part.”
His words make no sense.
“If I find out you fucked him, I will kill you, River. Do you hear me? I will fucking slit your throat.” His eyes are wild, hair a mess as if he pulled at it, and his clothes askew. He looks unhinged.
Before I can muster a reply, he storms off towards the front door. His keys are swiped off the table by the door, and he’s slamming it shut behind him a second later.
“Don’t leave me like this!” I scream. I scream, and scream, and scream. He doesn’t come back. Not even an hour later, while I’m still stuck on the couch.
I’m wet and my skin is extremely irritated, my broken ribs are probably cracked even further based off how little I can breathe, my lip is bleeding and I’m fucking miserable. This is what dying feels like.
Slowly, I slide off the couch, teeth gritted, and crawl over to the end table where my phone rests. It takes a few attempts, but once I get it in my hand, I just stare at it.
Who the hell am I supposed to call?
There’s Amelia… but I don’t want her to see me like this. I don’t want to tell her about what Ryan did. I couldn’t call Ryan’s parents—not when it’s their own son that left me like this.
I have no one. Unless, I do something stupid and call someone I really don’t want to.
I put the phone to my ear. I’m past caring at this point.
“Officer Brady.”
“Hi, this is River. I… can you give me Detective Fitzgerald’s number please? I’d like to talk to him about what happened.”
“Ma’am, I can take the repor—”
“I’d like to talk to Detective Fitzgerald, please.”
Nine
River
PAST
10 YEARS OLD
MY FAVORITE STUFFED ANIMAL, Rocky, is stuffed in my mouth. The dirty fur tastes sour on my tongue from being in so many filthy places. But I need him. I need to bite down on something to keep myself from sobbing. When I cry, it hurts. I think Billy broke my ribs again. He said as long as my lungs aren’t punctured, I would be fine.
How does he know they’re not?
My ankle is sprained from when I tried to run away from him. It rolled because Billy grabbed me by the hair and pulled me back unexpectedly. My ankle gave out, along with the rest of me. My body, soul, and spirit… they’re all giving up on me.
Billy said if I leave the room, then I’ll be punished again.
My mom is in the next room over, her moaning and screaming a mixture of pleasure and pain. Billy does the same things to me that he does to her, but I’ve never had the urge to make the noises she does. It doesn’t feel good. Billy said it’s supposed to, but all it does is hurt. It always hurts.
With him, and with the other men Mom brings home. When they’re done with her, they come to my room at night. They hurt me. They leave bruises and scratches, and even bite marks. The last guy left a scar from him biting my thigh so hard.
“Billy, please!” Mom shouts, the thin walls doing nothing to mask her terror. Flesh hitting flesh follows her desperate pleas, along with a loud grunt. Billy always makes that noise when he’s finished. I look forward to that noise because then he leaves me alone.
Billy pokes his head in the door a few minutes later, shirtless with his pants unbuttoned still. A cigarette is hanging out of his mouth, the acrid smell filtering in my room. The walls are yellow from all the smoke. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the color white in my life. Not when anything pure is tainted in Shallow Hill.
“You still crying?” he asks, a brow raised as he sucks on his cigarette. Rocky is still in my mouth, but I don’t have the urge to cry anymore. Now, I just want to curl in a ball and hide.
I pull Rocky out of my mouth and toss him to the side, the once-blue dinosaur rolling across the dirty floor.
“No,” I mumble. The tears haven’t dried on my cheeks yet. Billy doesn’t like it when I lie, but he hates it more when I show weakness.
“You better not be,” he warns. “Your mother’s pussy is looser than the Grand fucking Canyon. But I don’t have that problem with you.”
I learned what that term means a couple years ago. Billy loves to say the word when he’s making me dirty. He said it’s the best he ever had, but I don’t want to be the best. I want to be worse than Mom. If I was bigger than the ocean, maybe he wouldn’t want me.
“I’m not crying,” I say again. His threat was clear. He’d come dirty me up again if I keep cryi
ng. He always says that he’ll give me a reason to cry when I show weakness. And when he does, I want to die.
Billy walks in the room, crouches down to eye level and hands me the cigarette. I take it. If I don’t, he’ll put it out on my skin. Pride shines in his cold, dead eyes when I bring the stick to my mouth and inhale the smoke. I used to cough all the time when Billy made me smoke these, but I don’t anymore. I got better at it.
He urges to me to suck on it again. I do and get a little buzz. The pain doesn’t go away, but it seems a little more tolerable now.
“Will you help me to the bathroom?” I ask quietly. Asking Billy a favor never comes free. I know this, but the urge to go is starting to deepen.
He takes the cigarette back from and sticks it in his mouth. I study his lips, where they’re hugging the yellow filter. Where my lips just were. It makes me feel like he’s touching me.
“You’re too old to need help to the bathroom, River,” he admonishes.
My bottom lip threatens to tremble as the feeling gets worse. I really have to pee. But I don’t want to try and get up in front of Billy. He’ll see me struggle. He’ll see me cry. He’ll see me weak. And then he’ll make those things worse.
“Okay, Billy. I don’t have to go that bad,” I lie. It’s a lie worth saying if it means he’ll believe me and leave. He looks down at me, a knowing smile tugging on his lips.
“Okay, River,” he repeats, his cold voice airy. “I hope you don’t, because you’re grounded. You’re not allowed to come out of this room until morning. You hear me?”
I suck in a painful breath, but nod my head.
Billy gives me one last smile and then walks out of the room, closing and locking the door behind him. The locks always been on the outside, never the inside.
The second he leaves, I release myself. It’s cold in here, maybe it’ll keep me warm for the night.
Shallow River Page 11