Chapter 2
Craig had gone too far this time, so when the police showed up after a neighbor called in a noise complaint, I didn’t stop them from arresting him. After giving my statement to the arresting officer, and having what felt like a thousand pictures taken of my cuts and bruises at the police department, I went home and packed my bags. I can’t be here when Craig got home. He’d be pissed, and I was terrified of what he’d do to me in retaliation.
I’d declined the police escort home, thinking Craig would be in jail long enough for me to pack and get on the road. But as I stood alone in our apartment, I second guessed myself. What if he posts bail right away?What if he’s on his way home right now?
I had to hurry. With trembling hands, I carefully lifted my blood-stained shirt, wincing as the movement reminded me of my bruised ribs, and pulled it over my head. Looking at my injuries in the bathroom mirror, I couldn’t help but feel disgusted with myself. How could I let him keep doing this to me?
My ribcage was already a disgusting shade of baby vomit green, and would probably be dark purple before I got to Weatherford. The marks on my wrists and arms, where he’d grabbed me, weren’t much better. But at least I can hide them from my brother and parents.
I brought a shaky finger to the corner of my mouth, but didn’t touch it, no amount of makeup would cover up my split lip or swollen, black eye. I let out a long sigh, then gently washed the dried blood and tear stains from my face before putting on a clean shirt. Not caring about wrinkling them I threw a bunch of clothes, and my jewelry, into two large suitcases. Then packed my laptop and a few personal items that I didn’t want Craig destroying when he got home and realized I’d left him.
Do I need anything else? I was running on fear and adrenaline and afraid I’d forget something important.
Toiletries and makeup. I grabbed a bag and started dropping stuff in it with shaking hands. swearing each time I dropped something in the sink.
I don’t have time to pack everything, and can’t worry about leaving unimportant things behind.
Once I was safely on the highway I called my older brother, Chris.
“Hey Em, what’s up?”
“Hey. I, uh, I’m coming home.” My voice hitched as I blinked back tears. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t see me, he’d still be able to hear the fear and pain in my voice. So, I decided it was best to get the why out in the open, and blurted out, “Craig’s in jail,” with a shaky voice. I probably should’ve thought that out, said it better.
“Jesus. Are you alright? What the fuck happened?” He said, voice was thick with concern.
I mustered up as much courage as I could, and answered. “He hit me.” Better to rip off the bandaid quickly.
Craig swore softly.
“It’s not bad, but I needed to leave.”
“Not bad!” His harsh tone made me wince. “What the fuck, Emily, it’s bad enough that he’s in jail, so don’t you dare play it down for my benefit.” He lowered his voice, though the tone was no less angry. “Has this happened before? Is this why you didn’t come home last weekend, because he hit you?”
“Can we talk about it when I get there. Please?” I should”ve texted instead of calling, and starting this conversation while I was driving. Besides, this was a conversation best had in person.
He conceded. “Yeah, sure.” I could tell he wanted answers, and was grateful he’d reluctantly agreed. “What time do you think you’ll get here?”
The glowing numbers on the dash read seven-thirty. “Shit, around eleven-thirty. Is that too late? I can-”
“I’ll be up. You can crash here tonight.”
“Thanks.” My shoulders relaxed as relief washed over me. My only other option was my parents house and I wasn’t ready to face them yet. They’d freak out if they saw me like this and I didn’t have the energy to deal with them right now. Chris was just as concerned, but at least he’d give me some space. At least for tonight.
“Of course,” he paused, “But I’ll expect answers tonight.”
Or maybe not. I sighed. It was probably better to bite the bullet and get it over with. “I know. I promise I’ll tell you everything when I get there.”
“You’re welcome. Drive safe, and text me when you’re close.”
“Okay.” It wouldn’t be easy telling Chris how out of control I’d let things get with Craig. But it had to be done.
Sadly, tonight wasn’t the first time Craig had hit me, the most recent had been last weekend.
Tears flowed as I remembered how quickly the situation had gotten out of control. I asked a simple question and hadn’t realized I’d done anything wrong until the half-empty beer bottle whizzed by my head and shattered against the wall.
“See what you made me do?” He’d screamed before hitting me. Then he’d yanked my hair, forced me to my knees, and made me look at the mess. When he said, “I’m sorry I got mad, but you shouldn’t question me,” I did my best to hide the disbelief on my face as I looked up at him. Craig might’ve said the words I’m sorry, but his tone said it was my fault. And I knew from experience he’d expect me to apologize.
With a trembling voice, I said, “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” I’d only asked so I would know what time to make his dinner.
“It better not.”
I’d shuddered at the threat in his tone and began picking up the pieces of glass. When I cut myself, I cried out. Then, not wanting to get yelled at or hit again, I quickly wiped my hand on my pants and wrapped it with one of the the rags I was using to clean the mess.
Afterwards, I was in the bathroom, cleaning and bandaging my hand. The skin around my eye was already changing color. How many times can I convince people I accidentally walked into something? Wincing as I ran my hand under cold water, I hadn’t heard Craig came up behind me. I should have closed the door. Not that a closed door would’ve kept him out.
“Let me help.” He picked up the bottle of hydrogen peroxide with one hand and held my cut hand in the other. Before pouring it on my cut, he said, “This may sting a bit.” A stranger observing might believe he cared, but there was no compassion or empathy in his voice.
After he’d left me alone, I went to our bedroom and texted my brother.
Something came up. I can’t make the SSI ribbon cutting. Please tell them congratulations from me.
Sure thing. Everything okay?
Yeah. Just busy.
Okay. Talk soon? Vicky says she needs a girls day and Zoe misses her Auntie.
Tell them we’ll schedule something soon. Love you.
After my bruises heal. This wasn’t the first visit to Weatherford I’d had to cancel.
I shook my head to clear the memory and wiped my eyes. Hoping to drown out the voices in my head, I cranked up the volume on the radio with a shaking hand.
It wasn’t always like this. In the beginning he’d been charming, fun, supportive. I couldn’t put my finger on when things had changed, but I vividly remembered the first time he’d punched a hole in the wall—he’d apologized and promised it’d never happen again. I’d believed him. At to be fair, he kept his word. He never hit the wall again.
My knuckles were white and stiff from my death grip on the steering wheel, so I shook them out, one at a time, to get the blood flowing again. I should have left him a long time ago, when he first started slapping me around. But he’d always begged for my forgiveness, often surprising me with flowers. He always sounded sincere, so I always forgave him. By the time he stopped apologizing, and started blaming me for his outbursts, I was too scared and ashamed to leave. AndnowI’m paying the price for my fear and weakness.
Not wanting to wake Vicky or Zoe, I texted Chris after I parked so I wouldn’t have to knock. He met me in the driveway, held eye contact for a moment, then hugged me. The kind of tight hug that makes a little sister feel loved and safe, even if it did hurt my bruised body.
I saw anger flash across his face as he inspected my face and arms. Through clenched teeth, he said, “Let’s get you inside so you can get cleaned up and convince me I shouldn’t go to Houston right now and kick his ass.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. Chris wasn’t small or weak, but he wasn’t exactly the macho alpha-male kick someone’s ass type either. At least not physically, he’d been working a desk job since joining Dad’s insurance company after graduating from college.
He helped me carry my bags to the guest room and told me to take a few minutes to myself. “I’ll put some tea on while I wait in the kitchen.”
“Okay, I’ll be right out.” I’d cried most of the five-hour drive home, only stopping during moments of anger, mostly at myself, so I was grateful for a chance to wash off the layers of tear stains. I was so stupid for staying with him so long.
Once in the kitchen, Chris handed me my favorite floral mug. The warmth felt good in my hands and the Lemon Ginger scent was soothing as I gathered my courage. No more covering for Craig. I’d decided on the ride home I’d tell Chris everything. No more secrets. No more hiding. I’d kept Craig’s drinking and abuse from everyone for far too long.
Even though I was determined to tell Chris everything, I still struggled to find the words. I didn’t like admitting how weak and pathetic I’d become. If I could have just done better, been better, tried harder; then he wouldn’t need to get so angry or teach me a lesson. At least that’s what Craig told me.
“It wasn’t always like this. At first it was insults or him getting irritated anytime I wasn’t happy-go-lucky. Then he started yelling and throwing things,” I sniffled, “but I didn’t think he’d ever hit me.” The tea sloshed in my cup as I brought it to my lips with trembling hands, I could taste the salt from my tears as I licked my lips before taking a sip. It took another hour of me stopping and starting before I got it all out. Chris was patient, as expected, and tried his hardest to control his anger. Surprisingly, he didn’t ask me why I didn’t leave sooner, though it was a valid question.
One I’d been asking myself all night but still couldn’t answer. I was a smart girl, and knew better than to expect him to change, but somewhere along the way I’d forgotten that. And how to stand up for myself.
We stayed up late; me pouring out my guts, sharing my fear, shame, and guilt, and him reassuring me I didn’t deserve the abuse, and that none of this was my fault.
I wiped my eyes for the millionth time, then blew my nose, adding the tissue to the growing pile on the table. “I’ve kept you up. I’m sorry.”
He reached across the table and held my hand. “No need to apologize. I called off work tomorrow so I can stay up all night if you need me to.” I didn’t ask what excuse he gave, trusting he wouldn’t have told Dad the real reason.
“Thank you.” I open my mouth to say something else but was so overcome with gratitude I started crying again before I could get the words out.
Chris came around the table, put an arm around me and gave me half a hug as he handed me a tissue. “That’s what big brothers are for.”
When I was ready for bed, I gathered up my used tissues and threw them away before collecting our mugs and putting them in the sink. “Thanks again for letting me stay tonight.”
“You can stay as long as you need to.” Then added, “but you can’t hide this from Mom and Dad, you’ll have to tell them.” He probably thinks I’ll try. He knew me too well; the thought had crossed my mind.
I nodded and whispered, “I know.”
“You don’t have to give them details, but they love you and they’ll want to help.”
“I’ll talk to them tomorrow, after I’ve rested and calmed down. It’ll be hard enough for them to hear it as it is without me acting like a blubbering fool.”
“Hate to say it, sis, but I think they’ll react the same way whether you’re calm or a blubbering mess.” I half laughed at his honesty. “They’ll be worried. And pissed. Dad will probably want to drive to Houston and crack Craig’s skull open.”
Panic flooded my system. “He can’t.” Craig wouldn’t hesitate to beat my father senseless. Dad talked tough but he wasn’t in fighting shape; he’d settled into a happily married lifestyle with a good cook, and it showed. My lip quivered as I asked, “Will you go with me tomorrow? Help me keep him from doing something stupid?”
And provide emotional support. Not wanting to sound too pathetic, I kept that last part to myself.
“Of course, but I doubt he’ll follow through with any threats he makes, and I think you know it too. He’s not the vigilante type, but he’ll do everything in his power to protect you if Craig shows up, we both will.”
“I know.” But I couldn’t let either of them get hurt because of me. I’d go back with Craig, give him whatever he wanted, before I’d let that happen.
“You’re exhausted. Go to bed and try to rest. We’ll figure out the best way to tell Mom and Dad in the morning.”
“Alright. Is it okay if I take a quick shower?” A hot shower sounded good.
Having all day to think about how I’d explain my appearance, and the abuse, to my parents didn’t make it any easier. Luckily, I spent a lot of that time with my six-month-old niece, Zoe. She didn’t care about the bruises, or my past; she was just happy to be held. Chris must have told Vicky what had happened before I got up, because my appearance didn’t surprise her. She didn’t say anything, but her actions were sympathetic and supportive.
When I offered to watch Zoe so they could have a few hours to themselves, they rushed off to bed, hand in hand. And napped.
Before lunch, I called my mom and asked if we could come over for dinner, and of course she agreed. I did my best to sound casual, a giggling Zoe in the background helped. I’m sure she thought it was weird I was in Weatherford in the middle of the week, especially since I’d cancelled my last few trips with lame excuses. I told her I broke up with Craig, and said I’d fill in the details at dinner.
The evening went exactly as I’d expected. Mom’s expression switched from a big welcoming smile to somewhere between anger and sadness in the span of a heartbeat when she saw my face. Not wanting to hide the truth from them anymore, I hadn’t put on any makeup.
Dad’s anger rolled off him in waves, but he was gentle as he held me in a papa bear hug and asked what he could do to help. I had a feeling Chris had given them a head’s up about what to expect because their emotions were more subdued than I’d anticipated: mom didn’t cry or freak out, and dad didn’t threaten to go to Houston and kick Craig’s ass. That, or they suspected the truth so it”s not a surprise. Not that I was complaining, I didn’t want or need them freaking out.
“You can stay with us as long as you need to.” My mom said as we set the table.
“Thanks mom.” Chris and Vicky had offered too, but it’d be too hard for them with the new baby. “That’d be helpful.”
“Will you have to quit your job?”
“No, I work from home most of the time, so it doesn’t matter where I live.” I designed and managed websites for businesses. It was the perfect job; I set my own hours, had no commute, and it paid well.
“That’s a blessing.”
I agreed. Having to look for a new job with a bruised face and my self esteem at an all-time low would’ve sucked.
“Can you tell everyone dinner’s ready?”
“Sure thing.” My stomach growled; I’d been too worked up to eat, and the smell of mom’s fried chicken had my mouth watering.
As I walked into the living room, I overheard Dad ask Chris, “Have you talked to Jamie? I’m sure he could help.”
“Not yet, but I’m meeting him for drinks tomorrow and can talk to him then.” Of course he’d talk to Jamie—his best friend since forever, who also happened to own a private investigation and personal security company. The same company who”s ribbon cutting ceremony I had to miss.
“When were you going to tell me?” I wasn’t mad he wanted to talk to Jamie, though I wasn’t thrilled about it either, but I was upset he hadn’t talked to me about it first. My plan was to hide until my cuts and bruises had healed enough that makeup could cover them before going out in public. The last thing I wanted was to see an old family friend while looking like I’d been used as a punching bag.
“Sorry, Em. I was going to talk to you about it after dinner.” He had the good sense to look ashamed. “We made plans to grab a beer and catch up at the ribbon cutting ceremony, before any of this happened.”
“Do you really need to tell him?” I wanted to hide until my bruises faded away, then start over with no one in Weatherford knowing what I’d let happen to me. Besides, we”d filed a restraining order, so he couldn”t come near me.
“Not everything, but I want to ask his advice on how best to protect you.”
Dad nodded. “He’s right, Jamie’s a good guy and he’ll know what to do.”
He was, but I wasn’t okay with him knowing my shameful secret. But he can help me. Damn it. My emotions were all over the place; I was grateful for the support, embarrassed by my circumstances, and afraid Craig would come here and try to drag me back home. No, not home. The apartment we’d shared wasn’t my home anymore. Tears welled in my eyes as my emotions got the best of me.
“Emily, you know Jamie won’t judge you.” Chris addressed one of my unspoken fears, but I didn’t believe him. How could anyone look at me and not judge me for being so weak?
“Okay.” I didn’t think I had a choice, besides he was right, Jamie was a trained professional. I’d known him for as long as I could remember. Craig hadn’t killed me, but my embarrassment might—I had a major crush on Jamie back in junior high and high school.
“Anyway, dinner’s ready.”