Finding Gwen

Chapter Nineteen

Crossing my arms, I leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom. As much as it pained me, I gave Gwendalyn the privacy I knew she needed right now. Exhaustion was finally catching up to me, so I closed my eyes to clear my mind for a few minutes. However, I couldn’t stop thinking about her.

I had no idea how I slept at all last night. When I woke up to her looking at me, her eyes wide with satisfaction, it was like I could finally breathe again. The mirage of a professional boundary that I had fooled myself into believing was gone. It was time she knew how badly I needed her. I refused to let anything happen to her ever again.

Despite what the doctor and everyone else in this hospital seemed to think, I have never laid a hand on Gwendalyn, on any woman. But there were too many people out there who would, so the concern was understandable. Opening my eyes and standing straight, I started pacing outside the bathroom door. Why didn’t I find a way to make her stay?I should have been able to protect her. Someone touched her, even if she doesn’t remember what happened to her and I needed to know who. If it had anything to do with the case I’d been working… Fuck!

Hearing the toilet finally flush, I stopped my pacing and faced the bathroom door. I waited for Gwendalyn to come out, but she was taking too long and I was growing impatient as the questions started circling around in my head. Not bothering to knock, I slowly opened the bathroom door, so I didn’t hit her if she was standing at the sink. She wasn’t, though, and I quickly scanned the room, catching a quick glimpse of her hair in the mirror. Slipping inside, I closed the door behind me before sitting down on the floor in front of her.

Her legs were pulled up to her chest, with her arms wrapped around them. Her head was tucked down as far as it would go. It was almost as if she was trying to hide from something by making herself as small as possible. Reaching out, I placed my hand on one of hers, trying to offer her any amount of comfort she would take. She flinched slightly but didn’t pull away. Her reaction to such a small contact had me battling with going into detective mode. Gwendalyn didn’t need that part of me. She needed to know I was here for her.

“Gwen,” I tried to keep my voice soft, not wanting to scare her or make her pull further into herself. “I’m right here. Whatever you need.” She lifted her head and I could see tears pooling in the corner of her eyes, her walls threatening to crumble. Even though she barely met my eyes, I saw every ounce of pain she was feeling, what she was remembering.

Oscurità miawas raging in my mind, anger forcing its way through my veins causing the hand not holding onto Gwendalyn to flex. I was going to find the person who touched her and have his body join the dozens of others who thought they could get away with putting their hands on a woman. She was mine, luce mia. No one would ever hurt her again. Shoving down all the anger, I reached out and urged her into my arms as tears started streaming down her cheeks. She came willingly, and I settled her into my lap with her head resting on my chest as I sat on the floor.

One of my hands found its place on her back, running up and down her spine, attempting to calm her. My head rested on top of hers as I softly whispered that she was safe and I wasn’t going anywhere. It felt as if several minutes had passed and her cries had shifted into sobs. Every alarm in my body told me I needed to calm her down before she started to hyperventilate.

“Gwendalyn, you need to breathe. Please.” I mumbled into her hair as I attempted to keep the panic out of my voice.

She tucked her face into my chest, one of her hands fisting my shirt. “I-I can’t. Ev-every-everything h-hurts.” Her voice was muffled as her body began shaking. I wrapped both of my arms around her body, pulling her further into me, wanting to take away all of her pain. I felt useless, my own anger slowly making its way back to the surface at my inability to be enough for Gwendalyn in the moment. Shifting her in my lap, I pressed my lips against her temple.

“Deep, deep breaths,” I whispered. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.” Her body shifted as she tried in between sobs. She wasn’t getting enough air, her chest rising and falling too quickly.

“I’m–I’m sorry, Anthony. I sh-sh-should’ve l-listened to y-you,” she said, barely above a whisper. If I wasn’t listening intently to her, I would have missed it. I snapped.

Unwrapping my arms from around her, I placed my hands on her cheeks and gently guided her face so she was looking at me. Her eyes were closed, squeezing shut with enough force that I knew it had to be causing her pain, and her face was splotchy. “Please, look at me,” I encouraged. She slowly opened her eyes but avoided my gaze, staring down into the space between our bodies. I brought her face higher, forcing her to look at me. “You have nothing to apologize for, absolutely nothing.” She closed her eyes again and started shaking her head. I thumbed away the tears that continued falling. I need her to know that this was not her fault. Right now, my focus was getting her breathing normally.

My heart shattered when I removed my hands from her face and pain flooded her features, as if my hands were the only thing keeping her in the moment. I ran my hands down her arms, making circles with my thumbs until I reached her hands. I picked them up and pressed her palms against my chest. “Gwen, you need to breathe. Stop thinking and just breathe. Please.” I begged her, forcing my voice to stay steady and calm while I exaggerated my own breathing.

“Gwendalyn,” I raised my voice, wanting her to focus on me and not the memories that must be assaulting her mind. She shook her head, her eyes still closed, and I needed to break through to her. Fuck it.

“Luce mia, look at me,” I asserted, putting a little more authority into my voice, hoping it conveyed the seriousness of what I needed from her without scaring her. “Now.” Hesitantly, she opened her eyes and stared into mine. “That’s my girl. Keep looking at me.” I barely noticed the slight nod of her head as I persisted in pushing my luck being forceful. If that’s what she needed, then that was what I was going to do. “Breathe with me. Deep inhale.” I pulled in a breath and she mirrored me. “Slow exhale. You can do this.” I did my best to keep the darkness threatening the edges of my vision away as I pressed her palms in my chest harder, the pain from her nails pressing into the skin calming my mind.

Slowly, she took in more air, the rising and falling of her chest evening out. I kept my eyes on her, the darkness around the edges of mine retreating as her tears dried up. Her body stopped shaking and her shoulders visibly relaxed. I leaned forward, pressing my forehead to hers and closed my eyes. Trying to keep my composure, I reminded myself that Gwendalyn was safe. She was sitting in front of me and I would do everything in my power to keep her safe.

“Gwendalyn,” I started, lowering our hands from my chest to her lap, keeping her hands folded with mine, “I know this isn’t what you want to hear right now, but we need to talk about what happened last night.” I didn’t want to push her, but for my own sanity, I needed to know. Much to her credit, she didn’t flinch at my questions. Her forehead stayed pressed against mine.

“I don’t know if I can,” she muttered sadly, her fingers twitching in my hands.

“Oh, luce mia,” I sighed and opened my eyes, pulling away and releasing her hands to cradle her jaw. Her eyes fluttered open, sadness flashing across her features, as her body deflated into me. “You can, I know you can. Because you’re the strongest person I have ever met.” Her face was inches away from mine, and I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to kiss away all the darkness and leave behind only the light. I can’t, though. This was my fault. I had let this happen to her.

“Will you help me?” she asked, her question bringing me back to the moment. My chest tightened with emotion. I was sitting here blaming myself, but she never lost faith in me. She had never stopped trusting me. For a split second, I even saw a twinkle of hope in her eyes.

“Of course. Whatever you need, I’m here,” I said, pulling her in for a hug. I let her wrap her arms around my waist and rest her head on my shoulder with her nose rubbing against my neck. We sat in a comfortable silence for what could have easily been ages. Time seemed to have slowed down, and I was grateful for that. For the first time in a long time, I was at peace. My own body had relaxed into the embrace and I wanted to live in this moment for the rest of my life. I had Gwendalyn in my arms and right now, I could protect her. But how long would that last? She would have to relive what she went through, but she wouldn’t be doing it alone. I would be beside her every step of the way if she wanted me to be.

Internally groaning, I knew it was time to leave the comfort of the bathroom when my lower back was aching from sitting on the ground. Plus, I did not want to have the conversation we needed to have in a hospital bathroom. “Let’s get you off this floor and then we’ll figure out what to do next, okay?” I offered. I felt her move her head against my shoulder but couldn’t tell if it was a yes or no. “Gwen, you’re going to have to use your words.” I swear I heard a faint chuckle, and it gave me hope for what was about to come.

“Yes, please,” she responds. Shifting us both so she was no longer in my lap, I stood up before grasping her hands and helping her to do the same. I caught her eyes and held her gaze, not wanting to let go for fear something would happen. It was irrational, but I didn’t care.

“Let’s go sit,” I said. Not waiting for a response, I opened the bathroom door and scooped Gwendalyn into my arms, bridal style.

“Anthony,” she started, wiggling in my arms, but I held her firmly against my chest. “Put me down. I can walk.”

“You can, but you won’t,” I said, looking down at her. “Let me do this.” She smiled, easily giving in and resting her head on my chest. When we reached the bed, she shifted, expecting me to put her down. Instead, I situated myself on the bed and settled her across my lap. Gwendalyn relaxed instantly into my arms, her fingers running along the fabric of my shirt. I ran my hand along her leg, gently resting my head on hers. I forced myself to take slow, deep breaths, slipping into detective mode as I made sure my own emotions were under lock and key. She didn’t need any of my feelings clouding her own. This moment was about her, and she needed to know that.

“Luce mia, I need to know what happened last night,” I whispered, feeling her stiffen against me. Her hand dropped to her lap, and she turned her face, pressing into my chest. “I don’t want to push you or force you to do something that makes you uncomfortable, but it’s important to me that you know your options.” I paused, waiting for a response, but none came. Her breathing was still even, no signs of crying, so I gave her time to think. She needed to sort things out. The mind was a powerful thing and when it wanted to protect itself, it would fight to keep things buried.

She pulled away from me and I let the arm wrapped around her back slide to her front, my hand finding one of hers. The pressure that had built up in my chest slowly lessened, making it easier to breathe. I ran my thumb over her knuckles, cherishing the feeling of her skin under mine. It had always been soft compared to mine, calloused and rough.

“I met Carol at the bar,” she whispered, “and everything was going great until she got a call and had to leave.” She paused, her shoulders tensing. “I should have left, but I was upset at you. I didn’t want to go back to the house and have to deal with all of that.”

“Gwendalyn, I—” I started to apologize.

“No, let me say all this.” She cut me off. “If you interrupt, I won’t be able to get it all out.”

I nodded my head, watching as her attention drifted down to our hands. Whenever she was nervous or anxious, she would pick at her cuticles, usually until they bled. I hated seeing her hurt herself, even something so minor as that. But it was a coping mechanism, and I understood that. Instead of releasing her, I grasped her other hand, swiping my thumb along her skin until she took a deep breath and continued.

“Some guy started flirting with me at the bar. I thought it was harmless, and I had been pissed about what you said, so I didn’t think much of it and decided to have a little fun. He offered to buy me a drink, but I had just ordered a shot from the bartender and he handed it to me. Maybe it was my fault for not paying closer attention to what was happening…” She trailed off and I squeezed her hands.

“I got really nauseous, and I assumed the shot wasn’t sitting right or I had too much to drink. The guy was crowding me, though, and I needed air. So I may have kneed him in his balls so he would back up.”

I swallowed my ill timed chuckle, but damn was I proud of her.

“The little details after that are hazy. I made it outside and found my car, but I knew I shouldn’t drive so I had my phone out debating on if I should call you when I was shoved up against my car. I struggled to scream, but my voice just wouldn’t seem to work.” She hesitated, and I tightened my grip, trying to silently communicate my presence. “When I tried to get away, they threw me to the ground. I wanted to fight, to do something, anything, but I couldn’t.” Tears brimmed her eyes as she forced slow breaths into her lungs, her shoulders tensing.

“He forced his fingers down my pants. It felt like someone was shoving sandpaper into me. He said… He said I liked it. That my body wanted it rough. But I couldn’t move. I couldn’t tell him to stop. I just wanted him to stop…” Tears streaked her face. Her chest was frantically rising, and I quickly began taking deep, steady breaths. Slowly, she mirrored my movements and forced firm breaths into her lungs. Her fingers clawed at my palms. I wasn’t even sure if she knew she was doing it, but I made no move to stop her.

“Gwendalyn, you don’t have to continue,” I reassured her, telling myself it was for her benefit. Selfishly, I wanted her to stop. The thought of another man defiling her, using her for his own pleasure, had oscurità mia ripping at every lock and key I had thrown at it, and it was terrifyingly close to breaking out.

I would find him. I would kill him.

“Would it help if I called my partner? He can get your statement and then we can talk about what happens after together,” I gently offered.

Gwendalyn looked up, catching my eyes. A single tear fell down her cheek as she muttered, “What would happen to Oliver?”

My brows stitched together. “What do you mean?” I asked, confused by her question.

“If something happens to me, would Ollie be okay?” she whispered, breaking eye contact and staring at our connected hands.

“Luce mia…” I trailed off, realization settling in my veins. Even when going through what could only be described as the worst night of her life, it seemed Oliver and I had been the ones on the forefront of her mind.

“He has already been through so much,” she continued, oblivious to the wheels turning in my mind. “There’s no way he would understand. That little boy means the world to me. If something had happened to me, he wouldn’t know how much I loved him. He filled a piece of my heart I didn’t know I was missing.”

My hands were no longer holding hers. Instead, they were intertwined in her hair, pulling myself up to claim her lips. She relaxed into me, her body giving up, and I couldn’t help feeling a sense of pride at how safe she felt with me. Her tears mixed into our kiss, the saltiness giving me a renewed sense of freedom. Wait,fuck! I can’t be doing this. I pulled away too fast, her hands flying up to my chest at the same time my hands went to her shoulders to help steady her.

“Gwen, I am so fucking sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. That was…” She shut me up by crashing her lips to mine, her fingers weaving through my hair and tugging. Cupping her face, I pulled her against me and groaned into her mouth. Our bodies pressed against each other, a heat rising between us as I felt myself pressing into her leg.

She broke our kiss and leaned back, her eyes shining with unshed tears. A smile threatened her lips, and I swore I saw a halo of light around the woman. We stayed like that until a knock on the door had me scrambling to get off the bed like I was a teenager, about to be caught by my mom.

“Mr. and Mrs. Marino? Everything okay in there?” The peppy nurse popped her head into the door just as I was getting Gwendalyn settled into the bed. Hopefully, it looked like we had just made it back from the bathroom.

Letting the nurse do whatever she needed, I excused myself to the hallway to give Jason a call and check on Oliver.

He got to the hospital faster than I thought he would, which meant he probably sped from his house. Jason pulled me in for a hug when he saw me, something I wasn’t expecting but was grateful for, nonetheless. We interviewed survivors multiple times a day, but it never got easier, let alone when it was someone you know. There was no one else I trusted enough to do this. When he stepped through the door, he became Detective Kregler, asking all the right questions.

The doctor had been present at one point, letting us know they had finally gotten Gwendalyn’s blood work back and confirmed my suspicions that she had been drugged. She had started sobbing at that point, nearly hyperventilating again. I had sat with her and effortlessly pulled her into my lap, breathing with her until she had calmed down and was ready to continue. Much to his credit, Jason stayed professional throughout the entire thing, not even throwing a knowing glance in my direction. She had recounted everything from last night in even greater detail while never leaving my arms. I refused to let her at this point. This was where she belonged.

“Alright, Ms. Brookes,” Jason said, “so from my understanding there was no penetration by the assailant’s genitalia?” Gwendalyn shook her head, stiffening slightly in my arms. She had been completely relaxed against me up to that point, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. I kissed her hair and rubbed her back, small gestures to help ground her.

I peeked over Gwendalyn’s head, Jason’s gaze finding mine. He raised his eyebrows, a silent question, and I gave my head a slight nod. This next bit would be hard, but luce mia had more strength than she knew. He looked back to her and softened his face. I have seen him do this hundreds of times, and it still surprised me how good he was at it. “So the next step would be to obtain a sexual assault kit to gather evidence. It’s by no means a requirement as we cannot force you to undergo such an invasive exam, but it could help in the future. It’s entirely up to you. Is that something you want to go forward with?”

I looked at Gwendalyn, wishing I could read her mind. She turned to look at me and I saw it in her eyes, the question of what she should do. “I support you, whatever you want to do,” I said, losing the internal battle to keep myself composed when a tear slid down her cheek. “I promise you, no matter what you choose to do, I will find that fucker and he will pay for putting his hands on you.” Her eyes went wide, and she turned her head to look at Jason, presumably because she expected him to chastise me for threatening someone’s life in front of him.

She didn’t know him like I did, though, what he did in his free time. Gone was the calm, concerned expression of Detective Kregler. Replacing it was the uncontrollable anger that I had been trying to keep hidden from Gwendalyn since I found her in that parking lot last night. Jason simply nodded his head.

Gwen’s eyes returned to mine, still wide, as if trying to connect the dots. Bringing one of her hands to my lips, I gently pressed my lips to her knuckles. I watched as her expression softened and she exhaled slowly, shaking her head. “I just want to go home,” she whispered.

I pulled her back against my chest, kissing the top of her head while it laid on my shoulder. “Of course, luce mia,” I muttered into her hair. “Let’s go home.”