7
Sailor
An Awful Mess
THREE DAYS PASSED BEFORE I FINALLY HAD the courage to write Lily a note.
A note that said thank you for everything, but hovering over me and watching me like a mother hen was doing the opposite of what she hoped.
I appreciated her sleeping here, but it wasn’t helping me move on—she was just giving me a crutch to avoid having to face what’d happened. When she went to work, the walls closed in. When she came back, I felt stifled.
I didn’t know what I needed to get over Milton’s attempted murder, but whatever it was… I need to do it on my own.
Reading the note, Lily clenched her teeth before nodding with understanding. We stood in the kitchen where I’d made her a fresh salad full of herbs and delicious things from the garden to take to work with her.
Friday had come around so fast, and despite my hope that I’d be healed and have my voice back to go to the market tomorrow, I’d already emailed the organiser and apologised that I wouldn’t be at the usual spot.
I also didn’t want to admit that the thought of leaving this house sent a clawing, crawling sensation through me. Which didn’t make sense as Milton had hurt me here. In this very kitchen. He’d throttled me five metres away in the living room, yet it was outside that suddenly seemed monstrous.
The big, bad world held so many more men like Milton, and I was far too stupid to know which ones to trust and which ones to run far away from.
“Are you sure?” Lily asked. “I don’t like the thought of you being here alone.”
Taking the note back, I scribbled as quickly as I could, hoping she could read my loopy, messy handwriting. I hope you’re not offended, Lil, but…you can’t live here forever, and I can’t move on until I face it. So yes, I’m sure.
She scowled as she read upside down. Her power suit of choice today was a thin silver pinstripe with a white blouse and pearl drop earrings. With smoky eyes and soft pink lips, she looked gorgeous.
Not for the first time, I worried about the male sex.
How had none of them swept her off her feet yet?
Not that they hadn’t tried.
She dated often and had numerous apps looking for love.
Unfortunately for her, she was successful in her own right, had a fancy car, saved every penny of her commission to buy some land to do her own development, and most likely terrified all the boys away with her ten-year and twenty-year life plan.
Compared to her, I was going nowhere.
I truly don’t know what she sees in me.
“I get it. I do.” She fussed with her sleek ponytail. “I just don’t like it. How certain are we that he isn’t going to come back and try to finish the job?”
Knowing better than to try to speak—thanks to my throat that only seemed to get worse instead of better—I headed to the knife block and yanked out the carving blade. I winked and slashed it through the air.
She smirked. “Be an awful mess if you decide to give him a few holes.”
I shrugged and gave a thumbs up.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. It would be totally worth it.” She smiled a little sadly. Her gaze slipped over me, no doubt taking in my white summer dress that skimmed the tops of my feet. It didn’t have sleeves, so the bruises on my arms couldn’t be hidden, but at least the huge purple splodges on my legs and torso were covered.
“Okay, I know you’re far stronger than you look, and I respect that. Just…” She drew up her shoulders and snatched the salad bag and her satchel. “You’ll text me throughout the day and keep me informed of how you’re doing? And you promise to call me anytime—day or night—if you need me to come back. Promise ?”
I nodded. Placing the knife back in the block, I went to her and squished her in a hug. My bruises tried to complain, but I shushed them. I tried to whisper but it came out like a frog’s croak. “ I promise .”
Patting my back, she gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. “Fine. I’ll leave you to it. What do you have planned today? I know you’re not going to the market tomorrow, so you don’t have to make any last-minute orders.”
I pointed at the garden anyway and mimed harvesting and pounding in a bowl.
“Well, have fun making all your potions. You really should be resting, but I know that suggestion will fall on deaf ears.” She headed toward the back door. “I’m warning you, though, if you don’t message me back within a reasonable timeframe, I’ll assume the worst and come racing back here.” She narrowed her eyes with a false glare. “So reply, Sailor Moon. Otherwise, I’ll tell the police to drop by to check on you.”
I laughed silently at the nickname.
Memories of us calling ourselves after the anime cartoon that played before high school every morning warmed the cold parts of me.
Back then, we’d both believed we had superpowers. I’d been Sailor Moon, and Lily had been Jupiter, thanks to my blonde and her dark hair. We’d been ordinary girls by day and powerful goddesses by night. To be honest, I’d still believed that…until him.
Anger bled through me.
Stop it.
Enough!
How dare Milton strip all my power? How dare I let him?
Time to get over this and move the hell on.
Shoving Lily toward the door, I smiled and shooed her onto the porch.
“I’m going. I’m going.” With a huff, she gave me one last look, then followed the garden path to the gate and left me alone.
* * * * *
I winced as I caught my finger on the edge of the hot tin as I tipped it upright. I held my breath as the peach syrup upside-down cake plopped perfectly onto the flower-printed plate below.
Thank goodness it’s not a disaster.
Tossing the tea towel aside, I ran my singed finger under the cold tap for a moment while eyeing up the dessert I’d made for Jim. Peaches were his favourite—according to the conversations he and Nana would share over the fence. Peach in anything. Cobblers, crumbles, biscuits, muffins.
I’d never been a baker until I’d moved in with Nana, but thanks to some immensely enjoyable days spent in the kitchen with her, I’d graduated from eating store bought prepackaged monstrosities to scrumptious delights from scratch.
Licking my lips—still tasting the sweetness of the peaches that I’d sliced and caramelised in brown sugar—I checked the plastic bag wrapped around my bandaged wrist and stacked the dishwasher with my dirty utensils.
I’d stayed busy all day despite my injuries nudging me to rest.
I’d cleaned, even though the house was still spotless from Jim and the neighbours. I’d harvested all the herbs and flowers that were ready and gone through the intricate process of starting the oil press to make a new tincture of peppermint and geranium. The oil worked well on headaches, and stocks were low for the natural pharmacy that I offered at the market.
Nana had called her little stall From Soil to Soul, and when I’d first started helping her, I’d thought it would bring in pocket change from her friends in the area.
I couldn’t have been more wrong.
People travelled from all over to visit her. Far too many had her personal number for refills, and when I’d offered to put her concoctions online, orders came through day and night.
She often joked that she worked more hours at ninety than she did when she was nineteen, and I believed it. I was also endlessly grateful to have inherited her customers because if I hadn’t, I honestly didn’t know how I would’ve tamed my racing thoughts.
Every time the house cracked from expanding with the sun, I jumped. Each time a bird pecked at the windows demanding more seed, I flinched.
I hated being this wary, this afraid.
It isn’t me.
And the sooner I was back to my carefree, happy place, the sooner I could move the hell on.
Throwing myself into work all day had been a saving grace, but now I’d done everything that needed to be done. I had a delicious smelling cake ready to be gifted, and the awful knowledge that I had to leave this little sanctuary to deliver it.
My pulse instantly skyrocketed.
Wooziness made me dizzy. I leaned against the kitchen counter, pressing fingertips to my temples and begging the lingering concussion to fade.
His house is literally next door.
You’re safe.
You’re fine.
“You’re a slut, that’s what you are! A motherfucking whore who’s fucking the neighbour. What is it about him, huh? Never took you for a snob who prefers to open her legs for an asshole doctor instead of your devoted boyfriend!” Milton threw me across the living room, laughing as I crashed against the sofa and fell in the gap between the couch and the coffee table. Landing on me, he shoved my legs apart and fumbled at his belt. “How about you spread them right now?”
Gasping, I doubled over and clutched the sink.
Memories I hadn’t dared recall unravelled in a sickening movie.
He hadn’t just beaten me that day, he’d—
I collapsed to my knees.
“Come on then. Moan for me like you moan for him.” His hips pressed against mine, his zipper digging into me. “Why are you crying? Moan!”
Burying my face into my hands, I shook my head. I didn’t want to remember. I liked the foggy forgetfulness that protected me.
“Open your damn legs!” Milton ripped at my underwear. “How many times has he taken what’s mine, huh? How many times have you been that asshole’s slut?”
Falling onto my side, I buried my head in my arms and curled up. I’d almost died, thanks to Milton’s jealousy over a man I’d barely said a hundred words to since I was born. I’d tried to tell him Alexander North meant nothing to me. He was just the grandson of my nana’s best friend. Sure, I’d heard enough stories about him growing up that I felt like I knew him. Sure, he was sweet and wonderful, and Nana loved him just like he was her own, but we didn’t have a relationship. We didn’t even have a friendship.
I’d screamed all of that while Milton tore at my dress and knocked aside my arms as I fought him. But then his hands had gone to my throat, and he’d squeezed so terribly hard.
“I’m the last man you’re ever going to have inside you, do you hear me?” His hiss wriggled like a snake as unconsciousness came for me—
Gasping through my sobs, I sat up and clutched my hair.
He didn’t.
He didn’t rape me.
The hospital did a test, and it showed no evidence of sexual activity. It’d been at least a week since we’d last been willingly intimate.
Jim must’ve stopped him before he…
God, Jim.
It was as if a switch flipped inside me.
My tears dried up. The memories stopped. Jim had saved my sanity and my life that day. The least I could give him was a cake. And tomorrow, I’d bake him something else. And the day after, and the day after. I would drown him in peach desserts all because he’d rescued me from a fate I would never have woken up from.
Sucking in a deep breath, I stood on wobbly legs and washed my face.
I didn’t let a single thought enter my head as I grabbed some apricot-coloured cellophane that Nana used to make gift baskets and set the plate in the middle. Gathering up the sides, I twisted it into a tower, secured the top with a silver ribbon, attached the card I’d written that would never convey my level of gratitude, and strode bravely out the door.
I kept my chin high all the way to the back gate and rehearsed what I would say to Jim, but the moment I stepped into the front garden and looked toward the street, every accusation and agony that Milton had thrown at me screamed back into being.
“You spread them for your neighbour, why not for me?”
Alexander stood with his elbow resting on his letterbox, his emerald eyes covered with dark sunglasses, his black slacks and shirt extra dark in the sun. He’d rolled the sleeves to his elbows and his hair looked as if he’d ruffled it a few times, hinting at his exhaustion and the fact he’d probably just got back from the hospital.
I only ever saw him in jeans and shorts on his days off. All other times, he dressed professionally despite donning scrubs the moment he stepped into work.
“Caught you looking again. How many times have you perved on him, huh?” Milton’s awful voice echoed in my ears.
Guilt spread like wildfire, despite the fact that I’d never done anything wrong. I always made a point to look away if I ever caught sight of Alexander in the window. Our houses were close enough that we could string a rope ladder across our bedrooms and climb through each other’s window, but that didn’t mean I’d ever strayed over the boundary of respect.
“I’m glad Mable is enjoying Evermore Care,” Alexander said, smiling wearily at old Josephine. The woman looked as if she’d fly away in a gentle breeze and clung to her walking stick as an anchor, but her smile lit up her entire weathered face. “Thank you so much for recommending it, Zander dear, and for the personal letter you wrote ensuring she was shuffled up the waiting list. Poor Mable doesn’t have long in this world, but at least her last few months will be comfy.”
“Don’t mention it.” Opening his letterbox, he grabbed a few letters and shifted awkwardly on the spot. His body language screamed he couldn’t wait to get inside and be alone, but the politeness instilled by his grandparents ensured he forced a wider smile and stayed right there talking to her. “How’s Gary enjoying Alaska?”
Josephine grinned from ear to ear, her blue-rinsed hair twinkling in the sun. “Oh, he’s fabulous. Adoring the wild North. Says he’s enjoying his new position putting in something or other.” Shuffling forward, she rested her hand on his arm. “He video called me, isn’t that grand? Showed me his house and everything.” She frowned. “But it’s so sunny and warm that I think he might be pulling my leg. I thought Alaska was meant to be covered in snow?”
Alexander patted her hand on his arm. “They have summers like us, Jo. Very hot ones, I hear, with lots of bugs.”
“Oh dear, I don’t like bugs.”
“Then I suggest you avoid Alaska in the summer.” Squeezing her hand, his chin tipped up and he froze.
My cheeks broke into an inferno as he looked right at me. The tension from talking when he would rather be alone switched into even tighter knots. The envelopes in his hand crinkled as his fingers curled into a fist.
I stood there in my white summer dress, bruises on display, and the curses of the man who put them there screeching in my ears.
“How dare you look at him. How dare you think he could ever want someone like you!”
It took every ounce of courage not to run back the way I came.
How had this happened?
How had I allowed this to happen?
In one awful moment, Milton had ensured the world switched from a happy place full of nice people to a terrifying place full of danger. And the one man Nana had drilled into me who would always be there for me if I ever needed help was the reason it all happened.
Dropping my gaze, I held up the tower of cellophane to hide my face and darted like an idiotic mouse onto the street, past Alexander and Josephine, and straight to Jim’s house.
I didn’t stop until I practically bolted through his back door.
I trembled as the old man dressed in a plaid suit and wire-rimmed spectacles hauled himself out of his chair and lumbered to let me in.
And I threw myself into thanking him with fierce hugs, wordless gratitude, and a huge piece of peach upside-down cake. I also gave his dog Biscuit a million cuddles, so I didn’t have to think about Alexander North, his wonderful care to young and old, and the fact that I didn’t think I could ever make eye contact with him again.