9. Sian
CHAPTER NINE
SIAN
I don’t know how long I’ve been cradling my body on the floor of the shower. It could be minutes, it could be hours. I’ve lost all concept of time and reality. I know my body aches, but I’ve numbed myself from feeling any pain. If I allow myself to feel, then I’ll know what happened was real, and I’m not ready to accept that. I don’t think I’ll ever be. Yet I can’t stop the tears from falling.
How can I have spent so much time with someone and not know who they really are?
Was I blind to see the dark side of Daniel? The really dark side?
Or was he just an expert at keeping it at bay until now?
If so, why show his true colors now? What’s his agenda, and what has he got to gain? The only thing my brain can come up with is the fact that he likes the control over me and he doesn’t want anyone else to have me.
I live with the constant fear of him always showing up in my life. I’ll never be able to move on as long as he’s around. I’ll never be happy with a family of my own. He won’t allow me that.
How could I have been so stupid to think that he’d let me go completely? I’ll never be free from him.
I cry harder at that thought. I can’t go through all that again. I’d rather die than let him touch me again.
“Sian, I know you’re in there. Open the door.”
I begin to tremble, and I let out a scream so loud that it hurts my already sore throat.
He’s found me.
Is this where I’m going to die? In my bathroom, where I’ve tried to rid myself from one monster’s touch, only to die at the hands of another monster?
The splintering sound of wood has me curling up tighter, squeezing my eyes shut, and I make myself as small as possible.
“Fuck,” he says breathlessly. “Sian.” I hear him moving.
I tighten my hands around my legs, not looking up into the eyes of the man who’ll take my last breath from me. “Please, don’t kill me.”
“I’m not going to kill you, Sian. I came here to talk to you, but that can wait. You need tending to.”
I hesitate for a moment, debating whether I should believe him, but there’s a softness in his voice that tells me I should. Under my lashes, I see his outstretched arm. He wants me to take it, but I can’t. I’m frozen in the fetal position in fear and humiliation.
“Please don’t hurt me.” My voice is weak.
“I promise I won’t hurt you.”
I gaze into his eyes. He stares back at me, and for a monster, all I can see looking back at me is understanding. My head is telling me not to trust a single word he says, but my heart is telling me something different; I just don’t know what.
“We can go as slow as you want, Sian.” He clearly senses my indecisiveness. I watch as he pulls a towel off the rack. “I don’t want you feeling uncomfortable, but we need to get you out of the shower.” He reaches up and turns the shower off. The cold air makes my teeth chatter.
I feel fragile, and more ashamed than uncomfortable, but I’m not about to admit it to him.
With shaky arms, I grab the towel, but when he lets it go, it drops to the floor because I’m too frail to grasp it.
“This isn’t going to work. Close your eyes.”
“What? Why?” The panic is instant, and it must show.
“Sian, I promise I’m not going to hurt you. Close your eyes for me.”
I close my eyes like he asked and try regulating my breathing. The next thing I know, the material of the towel is wrapped around my body and he’s lifting me up with as much care and delicacy as he can. I cry out in pain, a reminder of what I’ve just endured, and I’m afraid about what his man has planned for me. Through all the torment and suffering I’ve endured tonight, I haven’t forgotten what I witnessed at the club. I knew it was only a matter of time before he found me. He’s a murderer. He killed a young man in cold blood without batting an eyelid.
Is this all a ploy? Is he showing me kindness before he kills me? Maybe that’s his way of dealing with the guilt of taking a life. A female life.
What will he do to me?
Will he make me suffer by dragging it out?
Is he even capable of showing mercy?
He said I need to trust him. Does that work both ways?
“I… I… won’t say anything,” I whisper against his chest.
I’m slowly placed on my feet, and when I look around, I see he’s carried me to my room. I tighten the towel around my body, cautious of his intentions.
“Dry yourself. I have someone on the way to check you over.” With that said, he turns and leaves me alone.
Did he hear what I said, or is he just choosing to ignore me?
I don’t want to be by myself. What if Daniel comes back again tonight, or tomorrow, or the day after that?
What am I going to do?
I cry silently. I cry for the woman I once was and will never be again. I cry in frustration because of how weak I am. I should have fought back harder, screamed in his face. Would it have changed the outcome?
Daniel wanted to rape me, and what Daniel wants, Daniel gets. He’s already taken so much from me. My self-respect was the one thing I managed to retain, but now he’s taken that too. I’ll never be able to feel good about myself again. Why would I after what he did to me? I’m dirty. Why would anyone want someone like that?
I’ll never be able to trust anyone now. I knew he had a dark streak, but never something as dark as raping me.
How could I have been so naive to think he’d leave me alone for good once we broke up? I should have sold the house and moved away the first time he came back on the scene. He left me alone for a few weeks; that was all he gave me. I should have moved on. At least that way he wouldn’t be able to find me and make my life a living hell. But this house was my grandma's. She left it to me in her will, and I was determined not to let him take anything else away from me.
I almost jump out of my skin when someone knocks on my bedroom door. “Sian, can I come in?” Tate asks.
I’m still wrapped in a towel, but at least my modesty is hidden, not that he hasn’t already seen all of me. Although, when we were in the bathroom, his eyes never wandered from mine.
“Erm, yes.” I sit on the edge of bed, wincing the moment my skin touches the material of my duvet. He peers around the door. Opening it wider, he reveals a woman. “This is Imogen. She’s here to help you.” I glance between them, not missing the sympathetic look she’s giving me, certifying that I am indeed a victim.
I don’t want to be a victim.
I roughly wipe the last tears from my face. I’m not crying any more tears for that man. This is what Daniel wanted. He wanted to break me and destroy my soul, my life. I can’t live in fear, wondering when or if he’ll do this to me again. It’s going to be hard getting through this as it is, but adding the extra emotions and mindfuck will only make me sink further into depression. I don’t want to become that person. I will not become that person.
I’ve been inside my own head long enough, and I shake the thoughts of Daniel away. I hadn’t noticed the woman Tate introduced as Imogen had walked closer to me.
“Can you give us some privacy, please, Tate?” He nods and leaves, closing the door as he goes. “Hi, Sian. I hear you may have been a victim of ra-”
I hold my hand up and wince at her words. “Please don’t say the word. I don’t want to be a victim.”
She offers me a soft smile. “Understood. Is it okay if I take a look at you and do some swabs?”
I furrow my brows. “Are you a nurse?”
“I’m a doctor.”
That spikes my interest. “Yet you know Tate? You know what he’s capable of?” I probably shouldn’t have said that, but in my weakened state, I let it slip out.
She places a bag down on the bed beside me and sits next to me. “Yes, I know Tate. I’ve known him for a long time. I’m aware of his lifestyle, but he’s not all bad.”
I leap off the bed, ignoring how my body detests the movement, not wanting to be close to her. “Not all bad? He kills people. How can you be okay with that in your line of work?”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about him. He might do unspeakable things to people, but he would never harm an innocent person. I just answer when he calls because I know he or someone else needs my help. Like you. That's why I do what I do. I help.”
I’m struggling to come to terms with what she’s saying. “So, you don’t agree with what he does, but you come running anyway?”
“If Tate Matthews calls, you answer. It’s complicated.” She waves her arm in the air as if waving off my questions. “I’m not here for him right now, I’m here for you. Please, let me help you.”
I debate whether I should trust her, but my body and mind win me over. My body hurts, and I need something to take the ache away.
“Fine. What do I need to do? It’s not like I’ve ever had to… you know, do this before.” I’m embarrassed all over again. When will all this end?
“I know this may be hard for you, but I need to check you over. All of you.” I take a few steps back from her, shaking my head, ready to protest, but she gently takes my arms that are still clinging to the towel and stops me. “I know the last thing you want is someone touching you, but it’s to check what damage was caused. Your arms and legs are covered in bruises, and your face has taken a hit too. I just want to make sure nothing is broken and there’s no internal bleeding. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to complete a rape kit. I’ll go as slow as you like. No one is going to rush you or make you feel more uncomfortable than you already are.” She offers me a soft, genuine smile.
“I don’t think I can do this,” I say more to myself. The thought of someone touching again makes me want to throw up.
“I know what you’re going through.”
I glance her way, trying to work out if she’s telling me the truth. “Were you rap-” I can’t even bring myself to say it.
“No, but my younger sister was.” She locks her eyes with mine. I see the tears she’s holding back. “She was only twenty. She was drugged at a party and three guys took advantage of her, one after the other. She was really shaken up by it, not really knowing what happened. I’m kinda glad she doesn’t remember the ordeal.” She plays with a piece of loose lint on the duvet.
“I’m so sorry. How did she…” I gulp, feeling emotional for what her sister went through.
“She wouldn’t let anyone examine her but me. I did it, but it broke me.” A single tear leaks from her eyes. “You can trust me, Sian. I promise I’m here to help you. Please, let me do that.” She wipes away her tears and composes herself again.
More tears appear in the corners of my eyes. I thought the worst was over. I hadn’t even thought of the aftermath.
“Thank you for telling me about your sister. I know that would have been hard for you.” She didn’t need to, but I think it was her way of getting me to trust her. “Okay, I’m ready,” I breathe. “Oh, God. What if he’s passed something on to me?”
It's getting harder to breathe. I collapse on the bed as the soft touch of Imogen's hands guide me down.
“Relax your breathing, Sian,” she says, and I try to do as she instructed. “That’s it, nice and slow. There’s no point getting yourself worked up over something you don’t know.” She rubs my hand in soothing circles.
I take one big gulp of air, and before I change my mind, I get on with it. “Okay. Let's do this. I wanna make sure I'm all clear.”
“Atta girl. If at any point you need me to stop, just say the word.” She smiles at me as she lays me on the bed and lifts the towel slightly higher up my thighs.
I don’t know how long it goes on for, but by the time she’s done, it’s almost daylight. I’ve been poked and prodded more times than I care to remember. She took pictures of all my injuries, all the way from my head to my toes, including between my thighs. I feel violated all over again. It doesn’t matter how gentle or reassuring she was. She apologized whenever I winced, but I never told her to stop. I just wanted it to be over and done with.
Once it’s over, I roll off the bed as quickly as my fragile body allows and close myself in the en-suite bathroom. I need to be alone; it was all getting too much.
It’s in that moment of quietness that I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I don’t recognize the person staring back at me. There’s no light in her eyes, no emotions to her features. She looks… haunted.
The bruises cover most of my arms, neck, and face, and the places that aren’t black and blue are pale and covered in rough, dry skin. My eyes appear soulless, like there’s nothing left to live for. I step closer, not believing it’s me I’m seeing, and that’s when I see the rest of my body. Bruises on my legs and inner thigh, carpet burns on my elbows from when I tried to crawl away. Small markings on my ribs where he grabbed me as I tried to get out of his hold. I turn to the side to see the damage to my back. It’s worse than my front. The carpet burns are bigger, deeper, and run along my lower back and across my shoulder blades, and I have deep bruising on my hips where his fingers dug into me. My face is busted up from where he slammed it down against the floor. I have a lump forming on my forehead and a small cut above my eyebrow. Daniel really did a number on me. Hopefully, I don’t have any broken bones or internal bleeding.
I can’t stand to look at myself any longer. I can’t face the truth behind the marks, and until they heal, I won’t. I know the physical marks will disappear, but the mental scars will always be there. I just need to learn to deal with them in my own time and in my own way.
I just want some comfortable clothes and sleep. I swing the door open, ignoring Imogen’s watchful gaze, and hunt down a clean pair of PJs from my dresser. I dress in silence. Only when I’m decent does she speak.
“I’ll get these results back to you as soon as I can. I’ve left some painkillers by your bed to help lessen any aches, along with the morning after pill, just to be cautious. I’ll let you get some rest, Sian.” She throws me a quick wave before grabbing her hospital bag and leaving.
I climb into bed the second she leaves. I’m exhausted and in agony. I lean over the bedside to see the packet of tablets. I pop two in my mouth, swallowing them without water, and shimmy back down the bed. I can hear voices from the other side of the door, but I don’t have enough energy to keep my eyes open, let alone tell them to go away.