“You can’t let him just get away with this,” he whispered, smoothing my hair away from my temple. “You’ve got to turn him in.”
“No—I know you won’t understand this, but something was wrong. He wasn’t himself.”
“Leese, I think you’re wrong—I think you just met the real Micah.”
“No,” I sobbed, refusing to believe him. “I know him well enough, he didn’t intend for this to happen.”
“Don’t say another word. Don’t cover for what he did. I want to kill him bad enough at the moment; we’ve got to stop talking about him.”
He held me for a while and I began to drift. When I woke up, I was alone and I heard voices. All I could hope and pray was that he hadn’t called the police.
“Ryan?” I called out.
He entered the room with Candace, “I had to have someone, Leese. I can’t handle this.”
Candace sat gently on the edge of the bed and by the expression on her face I must have looked pretty bad.
She pulled back the covers to see the rest of me and I could see her flinch. “He’s got to go to jail,” she stated matter-of-factly.
I touched her hand as I shook my head, no.
“Leese, this was worse than a beating, he—he raped you.”
“No,” I whispered. “No one except the three of us is going to know anything about this—I couldn’t take it if this got to the press. My mom…” I choked up, but stopped before the tears spilt over my lashes.
“We can’t leave you here like this.”
“I’m staying,” Ryan stated with a hard edge. “I won’t be coming home until she’s—”
“Bring her to our house,” Candace said gently. “You said the crazy son-of-a-bitch pulled a gun on you, and I don’t want the two of you here and have him show back up.”
“No!” Ryan snapped back at her. “I don’t want to take a chance of him showing up with you around. I want you to go stay at your dad’s for a few—”
“No, Ryan, I—”
“Please, Candace. This is bad enough. I couldn’t take it if something happened to you, too.”
I could see his concern for her safety washed over her like a wave of love, and then the tough exterior peeled away and she began to cry, “I don’t want anything to happen to you either.”
He dried her tears and held her close, “Don’t worry, please. I’ll turn on the alarm and I’ll call the police if I even suspect that he’s around. Stay at your dad’s—for me—Candace, please.”
She finally left and he went around and locked every door and window, set the alarm and crawled in beside me. I had drawn my knees up which made it difficult for him to hold me the way he normally did, so he let his hand rest on my shoulder as I fell back asleep.
The next day the cramping was worse and I was still incredibly sore. My body looked hideous like I’d been tossed over a mountainside and had rolled all the way to the bottom. Ryan tried to get me to eat, but I honestly didn’t want anything. By noon he said he was going to go get me something for the pain, but he would be back as quickly as possible. Within thirty minutes, he sat beside the bed with a glass of dark amber liquid.
“Sit up, baby girl,” he was trying to help me up from under the covers.
“No, wait. I don’t have my shirt on,” I said looking for wherever it went. It felt like it was cutting into my bruises last night and I had pulled it off, now all I had was a bra that Candace helped me get on before she left the day before.
“Leese, you were absolutely naked yesterday. I can handle your bra and underwear. Drink some of this.”
I was in so much pain that I was cringing as he propped the pillows behind me. He brought the glass to my face; the strong aroma of alcohol hit me. I pushed his hand away, “No—what is that?”
“Brandy. Drink it.”
“No,” I refused.
“Leese, when I was little I’d get terrible stomach aches and my dad would give me sips of brandy to ease the pain. It always worked. Please, drink it—I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.”
I knew that as I allowed him to bring it back to my mouth. It was strong, yet had a strange, smooth quality that warmed my throat and stomach immediately. “I can’t drink all of this,” I protested.
“It’s like seven or eight ounces; it’s not that much and it will help.”
He encouraged me to continue as I sipped until nothing remained in the glass. I was warm all over, but not the same as when David doped me with ecstasy. This was a different kind of warm. The cramps seemed to blend away in the heat and my eyelids drooped heavily as I realized I had consumed enough to pass out. The last thing I remembered was moaning softly that I wanted to sleep as he slid me down in the bed.
“I’m sorry,” I heard him whisper as he kissed my forehead, but I was too sleepy to care what he was apologizing for as I drifted away.
I woke eight hours later to the sound of my cell phone going off. “Who is it?” I asked weakly.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Ryan, who is it?”
“It’s Don—at least I think it’s Don unless Micah is using his phone.”
I put out my hand.
“No.”
“Give it to me. He’s calling about Wednesday.”
Reluctantly he handed it to me as I caught it before it had gone to voicemail.
“Leese,” came Don’s panicked voice, “you were supposed to be back in L.A. last night. We’ve got—”
“I can’t—I can’t get back for the special Wednesday. I’ve—”
“Can’t! We’re talking the finale, here! What do you mean can’t?!”
“I was in a—a—car accident,” I began. The line was silent so I continued, “I’m really banged up and I can’t go on stage looking like this. I can barely stand up for that matter.”
“I’m sorry, Leese, I didn’t know. What happened? Was anyone else hurt?”
“No—no—it was a deer in the road,” I lied. “It went right through the windshield. I’ve got cuts and bruises everywhere.”
“Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll either get the network to run a Christmas special or Remake reruns. I’ll let you know as soon as I work it out.”
The next day, he was standing at my bedside, “Geez, a deer did this? It looks more like a grizzly. Are those bite marks?” he said looking at my shoulder.
I pulled the blanket up to cover the mark, “No, just lots of glass.”
“Well, you’re lucky it didn’t take your head off. That little Aero must be tougher than it looks.”
“It was a rental car,” I stated quickly. My Aero was in the garage without a scratch on it.
“I just wanted you to know you’ve got two weeks to recoup. The network is doing a Christmas special and then the next week they’re doing a top 100 music count down. I tell you if our show hadn’t been so popular they would have cut our throats for—”
“Don, I‘ve got to know something about Remake. Is there anyway someone could have tampered with the voting results?”
He looked confused and a little upset at the question, “No—we have an independent accounting firm that takes care of the tallies. We aren’t allowed to have anything to do with that part.”
“Good,” I sighed.
“Why? Did you think we were cheating?”
“I just wanted to be sure that I earned my spot and it wasn’t the result of—of ownership.”
“Absolutely not. The owner doesn’t—”
“Micah Gavarreen,” I stated. I could see it shocked him that I knew who owned the show. “He’s my ex-husband and I had no idea—”
“Ah, shit! You’re kidding, right? But, you’re a Winslett.”
“You honestly didn’t know who he was to her?” Ryan asked, butting into the conversation.
“Is that why I didn’t have to audition like the other contestants?”
“He insisted you were going to have a slot, without an audition, but I didn’t know he was… If the press gets wind of
this we’re sunk. We can kiss next year goodbye.”
“Well, there are only five people that know and three of us are in this room. The other two are Micah and Ryan’s girlfriend.”
“I thought you were Ryan’s girlfriend.”
“No, that was a ruse. We’re only friends.”
“Good grief, are there any other secrets I should know about, like you’re secretly a man or something?”
I laughed in spite of the pain. It was the only humor I’d felt in days.
“Where is he, by the way?” Ryan asked.
“He’s at the studio. I mean he has spent most of his days and evening in his office, but just in the last two days he’s actually started walking around the studio and meeting the crew.”
“So he is in L.A.?” Ryan continued to press.
“Yeah, he practically lives in studio. Why?”
“Just curious.”
When Don left, I told Ryan to call Candace and go home. Micah wasn’t going to show back up at my house. I was able to move around and I didn’t need him to be my mother-hen. We argued for another hour and he finally relented and called Candace and told her he was coming home.
Christmas Eve and Christmas passed quietly. Ryan and Candace visited for a while both nights, but we had sworn off of gift giving. I tended to go overboard and they said they couldn’t compete, so we skipped it. Mom called and said she and Kimmy would like to come out for Christmas, but I turned her down with the excuse that the show was keeping me busy—even if they did move the finale.
I was healing on the outside slowly, but mentally I was crumbling. The more I considered what he had done, the more I thought about endings, the deeper and darker my mood became. I was refusing Ryan’s assistance at every available opportunity, telling him I was sleeping fine and I needed private time to get my life back together. He couldn’t make out the dark circles under my eyes for the bruises that were already in place.
I was like a hermit now. All I wanted was nothingness. I sat in my bed most of the time just weeping and wishing something I’d never wished in my life; I wished I’d never met Micah. I was still in love with him, but what he had called my ‘innocence’ that had drawn him hopelessly to me had been completely destroyed. It was like everyday my soul was being stripped down to reveal a vacant person inside me, and I didn’t like that person.
I kept thinking about the fact that I had been so determined to finish the last show on Remake, but now I was dreading every minute it came closer. Micah would surely show himself this time and I couldn’t face him. I was starting to seriously doubt my sanity as I sat in the bed and discussed my life with myself. I wanted to fall in to a deep chasm where none of this existed and I could find some peace. I had made it to the one week mark; one week since I had been brutalized by someone I had sacrificed my hopes, my dreams, and my life for.
I cried out to God and asked Him why? I had tried my whole life to honor Him and to do what was right in His eyes. How could He have allowed it to come to this point? I’d always believed in Divine purpose, but now it felt as if that hope had also been stripped away from me. I sat there weeping and yearning for the rest that wouldn’t come.
I’d been awake for almost forty-eight hours since my last brief attempt at sleep and I knew if I didn’t sleep soon, my sanity wouldn’t matter because it would be gone. I dug in the medicine cabinet for my Unisom; the box was empty. Ryan’s tee-shirt didn’t comfort me anymore, and I was starting to think about jumping into my ice cold pool and just letting myself sink to the bottom, but it wasn’t the way I wanted to leave the world.
I was leaning back on my pillows when I remembered what I had tucked away inside my nightstand. There was something that could transport me to the void I was yearning to find. I pulled out the unlabeled bottle and opened it, pouring the blue capsules into my hand. One capsule and I would sleep for a day. Two capsules and I’d sleep for perhaps two days. Three capsules and I’d most likely sleep forever.
“Hey,” came a voice from my doorway. It frightened me so badly that I spilt the pills onto my bed.
I looked up to see Ryan standing there with a puzzled expression, “I didn’t mean to scare you—I thought you heard me come in. I called out your name, but…” He looked at my face and then he looked at the capsules on the bed. “What are you doing?” he asked with clear suspicion.
I began gathering them up as he approached me. “Nothing, I was just going to take something to help me sleep,” I breathed out unsteadily.
“What are these?” he asked as he picked one up and studied it. He took the bottle from my hand, “Where did you get these? There’s no label on the bottle.”
“I—a guy from—I… I don’t have to explain everything to you,” I snapped.
“Who gave these to you—and don’t duck the question.”
“A stage hand from Remake; he said they’d help me sleep.”
“Have you been taking these?” A look of deep concern crossed his face, “Answer me, Annalisa.”
He rarely used my full name.
“I—I—took one a couple months ago and then he sold me this bottle.”
“Were you able to sleep?” his questions were becoming gentle, but he was still very suspicious as to why I had them out now.
“Yeah,” I choked, “twenty-five hours worth.”
The eyes went huge and round. “What did you pay for these?” he asked as he removed them from my hand. “Answer me, damn it! What did this cost you?”
“Fiv—five hundred dollars,” I whispered.
“Shit! Leese, you bought dope! What is wrong with you?!”
“They’re not dope. They’re stamped,” I argued, trying to take one from him to point out the lettering. “They’re prescription. I just didn’t—didn’t go to a doctor.”
“You bought drugs. Don’t try to cover that up. I can’t believe you even took one of these. What if he knew you’d be knocked out and planned to break into your room? Did you ever think about that? And what were you planning to do with a handful?” Suddenly his face went two shades lighter, “No, don’t you even think about doing something stupid like that, baby girl—just how many were you going to take—enough to let me find you dead in here today?!”
“No,” I sobbed.
He sat down on the bed placing the capsules back in the bottle and took firm hold of my shoulders. I wouldn’t look at him as the tears fell down my cheeks. I felt his hand reach under my chin and tip my head back, “Tell me the God’s honest truth, were you thinking about taking more than one of these?”
I couldn’t answer. Yes, the thought was going through my mind, but he stopped me before I had a chance to make the decision.
His eyes welled with tears, “So that’s it then. You were planning a Marilyn Monroe on me! Damn it, Leese,” he yelled as he picked up the bottle and slammed it against the wall. The cap stayed in place as the bottle bounced to the middle of the floor. He ran his fingers into his hair as he grabbed a double-fistful, pacing a small circle on the floor. “Why?! Over him?” he shouted at me. “What about me? What about your mom and your sister and everyone that loves you? All right fine,” he said, picking up the bottle and opening it. “You want to do this then let’s do it together! Okay, how’s that?” He put a small pile of capsules in my hand as he held the others. “I changed my whole life for you. Why not change the ending, too.” And then he tossed the capsules into his mouth.
“NO! RYAN, NO! Please, please. God, please, spit them out!” My pills scattered to the floor as I lunged for him. He refused to open his mouth. “Please, baby,” I cried out. “I’ll do anything you want—anything. Just don’t do this, please.”
He opened his mouth letting the capsules spill out into his palm, “You’re going to take every one of these to the toilet and flush them down. You will never buy drugs again.”
I was nodding my head furiously, “Yes, okay,” I agreed as I pulled the wet mass from his palm. My hands were shaking uncontrollably as I dropped to the floor
sobbing, trying to find all the ones that had scattered.
Then he was on the floor with me, holding me in his arms as I cried, “I love you, Leese—don’t ever do anything like this again.” He kissed me, it seemed every available place; temple, forehead, eyes, nose, ear, throat and then softly on the lips. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you. You’ve got a piece of me and I’m never going to get it back. You’ve got to take care of it. Do you understand?” He kissed my lips again, slower this time, but he wasn’t seeking something sexual. This was sweet emotion from an exposed heart, “I’ll be your sleeping pill for as long as you need me. I knew I shouldn’t have believed you when you said you were okay. That crap about wanting to be alone isn’t going to fly with me anymore.”
He finished gathering the pills, “How many were there?” He was going to make sure nothing was left.
“Twenty, I think—yeah, I’m pretty sure it was twenty.”
He counted them and then placed them in my hand, “You’re flushing them, I’m watching.”
I was trembling so hard, I could barely hit the opening in the toilet.
“Have you been eating?” he asked as he tried to keep me from shaking.
I shook my head no.
“I’m making you something to eat. Then I’m calling Candace and you and I are going to bed.” He left no room for rebuttal.
A little while later, safe in his arms, I went gratefully into oblivion.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The only problem now was that Ryan was stuck to me like glue. He wouldn’t let me do anything without him being present. Candace was spending a lot of time at my house ,and I knew it was because she was missing him terribly and the only way she could get to see him was to be around me. It was wearing on her and I could tell he needed to give her some attention or his whole plan of helping me was going to hurt them both in the long run. I just couldn’t figure out how to shake him loose again. I finally told Candace to stay the night at my house, so she could wile him away from me. That seemed to help because for the first time in a week, he wasn’t focused on me as she teased him into one of the other bedrooms.
02 Unforgivable - Untouchable Page 32