by Gina Azzi
Corey’s chest presses into mine as he dips his head, running his nose along the shell of my ear. “I need you, Everly. Can’t you see that?” His hand is a gentle caress as it cups my cheek, his thumb sweeping along my cheekbone.
I breathe shallow breaths, waiting for an opening.
The longer he gazes at me, the more his eyes narrow.
Until they’re tiny slits of anger and evil.
“I need to fuck all of him out of you, make you remember exactly who loves you best. It’s me, Everly. It will always be me.”
His caress turns painful as his fingers dig into my hair, pulling. He drops my hands as he grinds into me, pining me painfully against the counter top.
Shooting out an arm, my fingers collide with the candlestick and I swing it wildly. “I fucking hate you!”
But Corey is stronger, faster, meaner. He dodges the blow, slamming my hand into the counter until the candlestick falls to the floor. Yanking me to the ground, right in the middle of Addison’s kitchen, he kneels on my thighs, anchoring me to the hard tiles. His hands are violent as they pull at my clothes, his eyes wild.
“Stop it!” I shriek, slapping at his hands.
The sound of his laughter washes over me, his heavy breaths like whips against my skin. “I need you back, baby. My Everly would never try to hurt me. I want my baby back.” He growls, pulling my yoga pants down my hips. “You broke so many goddamn rules. All the fucking rules.” His voice is ragged, tortured, as he rips my underwear to shreds. Peering at me for one blink, his mouth twists, before he plows into me.
I scream out in pain, my back arching off the floor, even as Corey’s strong thighs press me down. An agony that is so much deeper than physical hurt burns through my chest. I lash out uncontrollably, punching Corey’s chest, pounding at his arms. He captures my hands roughly in a fist and pins them above my head, rendering me immobile.
“Tell me you love me, Everly.” He groans, his voice a mixture of pleasure and pain.
“I fucking hate you!” I buck against him, feeling violated and damaged and angry.
A glimmer of satisfaction flares in his eyes, causing my stomach to revolt. Bile snakes up my throat. He likes this. He likes hurting me.
“You’re sick! Do you know that?” I scream.
“I missed you so much.” He closes his eyes, pounding into me so hard, I feel my insides tear and bruise.
I scream every ugly word I can think of, tears spilling from my eyes and pooling in my ears. Struggling against Corey with all of my strength, he continues to move inside of me until he’s spent and I’m broken.
Pulling out, he stands slowly. Glancing down, he spits on me and shakes his head in disgust. “He ruined you. Now, I have to retrain you all over again. Pack your belongings, I’ll be back to collect you at dinnertime. You’re coming home with me, Everly. You belong to me. We have work to do.” Striding from the kitchen, I hear the front door close behind him.
I stay on the floor, feeling Corey’s semen mixed with my blood drip out of me, watching the time turn gray. Did you know time has colors? It turns gray as all the hope from the past three months disappears and dread settles in its place.
With Aaron, I savored every moment.
With Corey, I pray for invisibility.
When I finally drag myself off the floor, my body aches and throbs. My skin is cold. My stomach empty. I feel like the shadow I used to be.
That’s another funny thing about time. It can take long hours, difficult days, months of work to build yourself up. And only seconds to be torn down.
Wincing, I step into a steaming hot shower and wash the evidence of Corey’s attack from my body. I dress slowly, the pain wrapping around me excruciating.
I need water and aspirin.
I need help.
I need to feel something.
Shuffling through my gym bag, I find my phone and turn it on.
21
Aaron
Four days. That’s how long Olivia is hospitalized.
Four excruciatingly long, difficult days.
Kate heads back to Spain after two days, after signing over her parental rights. Wiping at her eyes beneath large, black sunglasses, she kisses Olivia’s forehead while she’s asleep, slips out of the hospital room, and doesn’t look back.
Me? I sit vigil. And I shut down everything that isn’t about my daughter.
At least, I try to.
But inside, my stomach twists with concern for Everly.
My throat burns with rage over Kate’s decision to leave.
My head aches with the internal vortex of emotions that I’m forced to ignore as I focus on my little girl.
Aunt Jenni spends long hours with me, reading aloud to Olivia, bringing me fresh clothes to change into, and making sure I eat.
Finn comes every day after work to distract me.
Daisy arrives each morning with coffee and polishes Olivia’s nails.
Every single minute is agony.
Until Olivia is discharged.
Taking her home, I vow that from now on, she is my only priority.
My phone rings in the middle of the night and I bolt from bed, praying it’s Everly.
Seeing her name flash across the screen has me lurching forward, my foot still wrapped in the bedsheet, desperate to hear her voice. To know that she’s okay.
“Lee?” I clench the phone to my ear, my heartrate spiking at the sound of her breathing on the other end.
“Aaron? Is Olivia okay?” Her voice is shaky, hoarse, as if she’s been crying. It fills me with equal parts of relief and dread, an emotional cocktail I’m unprepared to deal with on top of everything else that’s happened this week. My body and mind are wrecked after being consumed with agony over Olivia, with desperation for Everly, and with disgust for Kate.
Exhaling loudly, I drop my head back and close my eyes. “We got home from the hospital this morning. She’s going to be okay. She’s resting now. But God, she scared the hell out of me.”
“I’m sorry she got sick. I’m so sorry I left that night. I had no idea, honestly, I thought it was just a flu or some kid virus.”
“Why’d you run, Lee?”
“Aaron, I — I’m sorry.”
“I’ve been so worried about you. I kept calling and messaging. I even made Finn go by your flat to check on you. My daughter was in the fucking hospital, I’m dealing with stupid shit with her mother, and I’m distracted, thinking about you and if you ran back to the man who,” I pause, nearly snapping my phone in anger, “who hurts you, Lee.”
“I know.” She whispers, defeated. “I’m sorry. I just, I just turned my phone on today and saw your messages.”
I bark out a laugh, devoid of humor. “That’s great, really fucking great. Hope you had a warm welcome back to Nashville.”
“That’s not fair. Aaron, I’m trying to do the right thing. I’m trying to protect Liv and —”
“I told you I had us. That I’d take care of Liv and you and me. That we’d be fine if we could figure it out together. You decided not to trust me. You’re the one who left.”
“I’m staying with Addison.” Her voice quivers and it squeezes my stomach painfully.
“Just tell me, Lee. Are you okay? Be honest, do you need me? Is that why you’re calling?”
Silence hangs between us, thick with unspoken words, heavy with messy emotions.
Everly clears her throat. “No.” She murmurs. “I’m fine. I just wanted to check on Olivia.”
A coldness sweeps through my veins at her words, tears pricking the corners of my eyes until they burn. “She’s going to be okay. Thank you for calling.” I reply in the politest tone I can manage. “Take care of yourself, Everly.”
“You too, Aar.”
Hesitating, I pause, so many words on the tip of my tongue.
I’m coming for you.
I miss you.
Don’t do this.
We can figure it out.
But when I think about my daughter’s tiny slee
ping form one room over and let the gratitude I feel that she’s okay fill my chest, I hold back. “If you ever need me, if you ever need anything, you call me.”
“Good-bye, Aaron.” Everly disconnects the call.
Tossing my phone down on my bed, I stand and shuffle to Olivia’s doorframe. Watching her chest rise and fall, listening to the gentle snore of her nose, I thank God that she’s okay.
And I remember that she’s all I really need.
22
Everly
“How are you today, Everly?” Nicole, my therapist, asks as I sit across from her.
Shrugging, I pull the sleeves of my hoodie over my fingers and stare at the wall over her shoulder.
“Are you still living with Addison?”
“Yes.”
“Have you told her about the attack?”
I nod, wiping at my eyes as tears leak out.
“I’m proud of you, Everly. Confiding in a friend is an important step.”
“She wants to know why I haven’t told the police.”
“Why haven’t you?”
I scoff, picking up a throw pillow and resting it in my lap. “You know why, Nicole. I’ll be ruined.”
“Do you really believe that? Do you really believe that by telling the police the truth about Corey, that you’ll be ruined?”
“I’ll lose everything.”
“More than what you’ve already lost?” she asks gently and my chest aches as I picture Aaron’s face.
God, do I miss him.
It’s been six days since we’ve talked. And each day, the heartache I feel over letting him go increases. I thought time was supposed to heal wounds, not compound them.
“I need to hold onto my career.” I mutter the excuse, but it sounds lame, even to me.
“Why do you think Corey would take that from you?”
Sighing, I pick at the fringe of the pillow. “I used to think Corey made me, that he created my career.”
Nicole quirks an eyebrow.
“He didn’t. I’m not saying he hasn’t helped garner attention for my music or been important in my success, but he didn’t create me. I did. I know that now. Since Edinburgh, since Aaron, I’ve realized that my life is mine and no part of it belongs to Corey.”
“Then what’s holding you back from pressing charges?”
“I’m scared.” I admit, biting my lower lip. “I’ve been scared for so long that I let my fear dictate all of my decisions regarding Corey. But I came back here to stand my ground, to confront him, to get closure. I want to move on with my life.”
“Will reporting Corey to the authorities help you move forward?”
“Yes.” I whisper.
“What else?”
“I don’t want to be scared anymore. I don’t want to feel guilty and nervous and all of these negative things. In Scotland, I felt free. Weightless.”
“Because of Aaron.”
“Because of me.”
Nicole smiles, leaning forward. “Forgive yourself, Everly. Forgive yourself and demand the closure you need.”
“I made pasta for dinner.”
“Oh, I love me some pasta.” I hear Addison’s keys hit the little dish on the entrance console moments before she enters the kitchen. “So, about the Grand Ole Opry…”
“Please tell me you were able to postpone it.” I turn from the stove, clenching a wooden spoon in my hand. With everything that’s happened since I’ve been back, performing in two days isn’t something I’m looking forward to. Not when I’m about to press charges, not when I’m trying to pull my life together.
“Leo and Lila send you all their love.” Addison snorts, toeing off her heels. “They are thrilled for the opportunity to fill in for you.”
“Oh, thank God.”
“You’re sure you want to continue with the tour? We can cancel, postpone, change dates. Whatever you need, Everly. You know that you’re well-being is most important, right?”
Smiling at my best friend, I nod. “I do.”
Addison chews the corner of her lip. “I know I pushed you over the last few months. About Corey, the Opry, coming home. I’m sorry, Everly. I just, I want you to do whatever you need to do for you now.”
“Thank you, Addi.” I turn, placing the spoon down on the counter. “But I want to go on the tour. I need it. For myself. But first, I need to get through tomorrow.”
“What’s happening tomorrow?” Addison frowns, slipping onto a barstool.
Pouring two glasses of wine, I pass one to her. “I saw Nicole this afternoon. I’m going to report Corey.”
Addison’s eyes widen and she places her wine glass down so quickly, wine sloshes onto the counter top. “Shut the hell up. Seriously? Oh, thank fuck, Everly. Tomorrow? Do you want me to go with you? Do you want to have the officer come to the house? What do you need?”
“I just, I need to do this. I need to start standing up for myself. Yes, tomorrow. No, I’ll go to the station. Will you come with me?”
“Of course I will. Anything you need, I’m your girl.”
“Tomorrow, then.” I take a bite of pasta, closing my eyes and enjoying the taste. Corey rarely let me eat carbs and this dinner is one more reminder that I’m claiming back my life. Myself.
…..
23
Aaron
“Read this.” Daisy pushes into my office the next morning and places a coffee and her phone on my desk.
Lifting the coffee, I glance up at her.
“I’m serious. Check my phone.” She urges.
Picking up her phone, my breath catches as I read the headline on the news source she’s pulled up.
Country Music Producer Corey Hughes Arrested on Rape Charge
“Jesus Christ.” I whisper to myself, scanning the article.
November 27 — Country Music Producer and Executive Corey Hughes was arrested early this morning after his longtime girlfriend, country singer/songwriter Everly Pierce, pressed charges including domestic abuse, aggravated assault, and rape. Hughes denies all allegations, but evidence provided by Pierce’s camp proves otherwise.
At this time, representatives for Hughes and Pierce refuse to comment.
“He fucking raped her.” I choke on the words, my eyes swinging up to Daisy.
She chews her lower lip, her eyes sad. “Did you know? About him?”
Dropping my face into my hands, I nod slowly. “It’s why she left. He, Hughes, was following her and he sent her a photo of Livvy at ballet and, fuck, what a mess. She ran. I thought she ran back to him because she felt threatened but…”
“But she reported him.” Daisy concludes.
“She pressed charges. I — I need to talk to her. See her. I can’t believe, Jesus, I shouldn’t have waited this long.”
“Call her. And if you need to go, you know Finn and I will keep Olivia. Just, make sure she’s okay, Aaron. No woman should go through shit like this. Especially not alone.” Daisy’s voice wavers and I wince, knowing how recent her own experience with a violent man was.
“Dais, I’m sorry, I didn’t even think —”
“No, Aar, I’m fine. Really. Please, just call Everly.” She smiles shakily and picks her phone up off my desk. “Good luck.”
Before the door closes behind Daisy, I’m dialing Everly. My stomach twists in knots and my heart gallops in my chest. I need to hear her voice. I need to see her. I need —
“Aaron?”
“Lee, are you okay?”
“I’m okay.”
“Brave girl. Please, please tell me that Hughes is behind bars.”
“For the time being. I’m sure he’s going to post bail, but he won’t come anywhere near me.”
“How do you know? How can you be so sure?” I feel like I’m going to throw up just thinking about Hughes being near Everly ever again.
Everly sighs. “I’m taking necessary steps.”
“Such as?”
“Restraining order. Hiring a private security team. Doing what I need t
o do to stay safe. But not silent. I’m not doing silent anymore.”
“Jesus. I fucking love you, Everly.”
“I love you too, Aaron. I never stopped.”
“I know, baby. I’m so sorry. Lee.” I grip the phone tighter, not sure if I want to ask the next question or not. Fuck it, I need to know. “Lee, the charges you pressed, was it because of something in the past or more recent?”
Silence fills the line save for Everly’s shaky breathing and the air I manage to pull into my lungs burns, blazing a trail of wildfire through my veins.
“He caught me off-guard a few days after I got back.” Her voice is firm but monotone, detached.
“Everly, please, baby, please tell me he didn’t —”
“He raped me on Addison’s kitchen floor.”
“Motherfucker.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, dropping my head into my hand and trying to muffle the sob that breaks from my chest. My sweet, resilient girl was attacked just days after leaving Edinburgh. She was right, I don’t know Corey Hughes. I fucking underestimated him, and he hurt her. Again. Horror sweeps through me as another realization slams into me. “Shit, it was the day you called me, wasn’t it?”
“I, I just wanted to hear your voice.”
“Jesus, Lee, why didn’t you tell me? I would have, I would have been there.”
“I know. But you were right where you were supposed to be. Livvy needed you. How is she?”
“Full recovery. She’s a little weak and tired still but growing stronger each day.”
“I’m glad.”
“Kate signed over her parental rights.”
“No way. Wow, does Liv know?”
“Not yet. There’s been a lot going on.”
“Yeah.” Everly snorts.
“How are you managing?”
“I’m okay. Taking one day at a time. Addison arranged for other artists to fill in for my Grand Ole Opry performance. I’m gearing up for my tour and then, then I think I’m going to take some time off.”
“You’re not cancelling the tour?”