Chapter 6
Megan
Pulling into the concrete driveway set me into a full-blown panic attack, that night replaying in my mind as if I was watching a movie of me as I ran out the door and into my car. Only difference is that it was daytime now and instead of me running out of the house covered in blood, I’m walking into the house broken but healing.
“Thank you for taking the time to make sure I was taken care of. I’m sorry about my outburst of emotions in the drive thru. My emotions have been getting the best of me lately,” I apologized, fishing my keys out of my bag.
“You don’t have to apologize or thank me. I just didn’t know what to say back there. I’m not good at expressing my feelings. At least that’s what my ex said,” he chuckled a little at that. “I can go in first if you want me to.” His offer was nice and genuine. Probably the most genuine anyone aside from Ally has been to me in years.
“I think I need to go in there head on and just grab the bull by the horns, ya know. Besides what if the place stinks,” I wrinkle my nose at the thought of that being a thing. I take a deep breath and open the car door. Max cut the engine and grabbed the food from my hands as I fumbled with my keys. I wasn’t expecting it to be this hard.
Slowly, I walked up to the door, hands shaking. My eyes flickered over at the doorbell camera. I didn’t even think about the video that must be sitting on my phone of what happened. I know it caught the last time when he kicked me in the spine out the front door for telling him he was too drunk and needed to sober up. Mistake was me even telling him I could smell the whiskey on his breath.
With shaking hands, I insert the lock and whisper a silent prayer to Soteria for safety and protection. My life almost ended the last time I was in this house. How am I going to move forward here knowing the horrors these walls have seen?
“Let me help you,” Max said from behind me, wrapping his hand firmly around mine, calming my nerves. I didn’t understand how he could sense my fear and anxiety as I was standing there. My brain likes to tell me I am not good enough, I’m flawed and I’m not worth love. When you’re told that almost daily for five years, you start to believe it.
“Thank you,” I whisper, turning the key and opening the front door. Instantly memories of my head getting bashed into the hardwood floor on the steps come flooding into my brain. I knew I had to look more around the house, but this was harder than I could’ve imagined. I felt a strong hand at my back and jumped forgetting who was with me for a moment.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” Max immediately backed up against the front door. He wasn’t the one who harmed me. I had no reason to fear the man who saved my life.
“I’m sorry,” I said as I forced myself up the stairs. The sound of my boots thundering on the hardwood made my blood run cold. How many times had I been thrown down these stairs? How many times have I been busted open from hitting each step on my way down?
“You have nothing to apologize for. It’s a trauma response. I should’ve known better than to have touched you. I just thought you could use some reassurance,” he said as he waited at the bottom of the stairs. I realized he was waiting for me to reach the top step, so I didn’t have another reaction.
“You can come up,” I said over my shoulder as I reached the top step. The house had a horrible smell to it. Stale air mixed with rotten fruit and trash. I needed to open the windows. I turned to enter the living room and stopped dead in my tracks. I was right. Blood pooled all over the center of the room and I should’ve known that this would be the case. You could see blood splatter all over the room, from the table to the walls. Why don’t I remember it being this bad?
Max reached the top step, and I could feel his eyes on me. “I didn’t realize it was this bad,” I admitted. I’m glad my mom and sister weren’t here today. Or even Ally. I was going to need to toss the rug and figure out how to fix the flooring underneath. I took my first step into the room, an icy cold chill ran over my body as if someone had their hand on my arm, guiding me around the blood.
I walked over to the windows and started opening them, one by one. The fresh air from outside felt so wrong entering this house of horror. The stench, I realized, was the blood on the floor mixing in with the trash in the trash can. Max stepped into the living room and looked around. I could only imagine what was going through his head right now.
“I’ll open up the windows in the kitchen and dining room if you’re okay with me being in the house,” he said, standing still as a statue, waiting for my reply.
“Go for it. Lord knows our houses are probably cookie cutter on the inside. You probably know where everything is,” I sighed and made my way to the bathroom to open the window in there as well. There was a guest bedroom on the first floor that was turned into my office and four rooms on the second floor and the downstairs was fully finished and was the party room for when we hosted parties when we first moved in. We stopped after Ryan got into a fight with Ethan, my gay best friend. He always accused me of cheating on him with Ethan. One beer led to a whiskey shot for shot during the Eagles game against the Patriots. I don’t even remember the score, just the broken glass and the food that was tossed around in the fight. I got hit several times that night for him starting a fight with Ethan over a comment about one of the players.
I opened the door to my office and saw the destruction. I fell into the doorframe, barely able to stand up. My computer was smashed, and my books and paperwork were tossed around the room with some gross smelling liquid all over them. This room stunk too. I moved into the room and over to the two windows and tossed them open. I looked behind the computer, the cords for the monitor, the printer and the tower were all cut. Guess he wanted to make sure there was no fixing it easily. Luckily it seems like he didn’t smash the tower, something might be salvageable.
I walked out of the room and headed to the staircase heading upstairs. Max came into the main room and stared at me. I pictured the last time I walked down these stairs; I was expecting something exciting for our anniversary. Instead, I got one of the worst beatings of my life. I don’t know why I stayed as long as I did. Was it because this was my house and he threatened to burn it down with me in it? Was it the fact that he threatened to break in and slit my throat in my sleep? There were so many reasons I stayed. Fear of him following through with all his threats, fear for the girl who would be his next victim. I couldn’t forgive myself if I let this man loose back into the dating world and some innocent woman got killed by his vicious attacks. I could handle myself for the most part. What if the next girl couldn’t?
“Do you want me to go up there for you?” Max asked, he kept his distance from me so as not upset me. I didn’t realize how much I would appreciate that. I shook my head and slowly ascended the stairs, more memories of arguments on these stairs flooded my vision. Screaming, hands being thrown at me, being shoved down these too, taking photos off the wall with me as I fell. I stopped hanging them back up after a while. There was no point.
I watched as the world around me begun closing in as I got closer and closer to the top of the stairs. I have no idea how long I was gone before he decided to take off down I-95 speeding to the game. My foot hit the top of the stairs and the chaos and destruction continued up here as well. Our bedroom door was off its hinges hanging. The bathroom door that opened to the hallway had stab marks in the wood. Same with my craft room door and his in-home gym.
I passed each door not bothering to open any of them. His gym probably was fine. He never broke his things, only mine. I made my way to the bedroom, probably shouldn’t have done that. The bed was carved up, fluff and feathers decorated the room. Our bed was completely destroyed like he stabbed it over and over then slashed it to bits. Our pillows were ripped apart. Pictures and perfume bottles were broken all along the floor. The tv was punched out, and my dresser was missing all it’s drawers. My clothes were thrown about the room. I wonder how many he destroyed.
I carefully walked to the windows and tossed them open, letting the smells of my cinnamon and vanilla and cherry perfumes drift out the window. I walked back down the hall opening up doors and windows as I went. My craft room was destroyed, the shower curtain was slashed, and my things were in the toilet. Hundreds of dollars of makeup, gone. No surprise his stuff was still sitting on the counter. I grabbed the trash bag from the bathroom trash can and using my good arm, swept all his shit into the bag and tied it up.
I left the bathroom and walked across the hall to his gym. I was wrong. He put something through the walls. Might have been his fists, might have been his weights. Either way this room was trashed too. I opened the windows and descended back down the stairs to the main room. Max was on the phone at the bottom of the main steps as I entered. He quickly got off his call and came back up.
“Is everything okay?” I asked him. I could see he seemed frustrated with whatever he was dealing with. He was kind enough to bring me home and get me food. Which was probably cold by now.
“Yeah, just work bullshit. Are you okay?” He asked me. I just shrugged my shoulders. Was I okay? No, and I probably wouldn’t be for a while. I’m not going to feel safe here for quite some time. Will I be okay? Yes, in the long run I will be. But right now, I just wanted to feel safe again. Who knows what that will entail. “Let’s get some food in your stomach before you decide not to eat.”
I chuckled, he didn’t know me personally, but it’s like he knew where my brain was going. I went to the kitchen and grabbed some plates. Max had put the food in the dining room, and I didn’t even realize it. I took my usual seat at the side of the table. My thoughts began racing about a multitude of things. I had to find my laptop. I had a lot of work that I had to do. I needed to contact the courthouse and file the restraining order if that wasn’t already done. I also needed to take pictures of the house for insurance and for the lawyer that I was going to have to get. Thankfully his name is not on the deed to the house. That will be my saving grace during this entire bullshit.
“You look so deep in thought right now,” Max chuckled as he took the seat across from me. It stunned me a bit to see him sitting there. It wasn’t a move Ryan would’ve pulled. He sat at the head of the table regardless, I was to be seated next to him never across from him.
“I mean, I am. I have a few thousand dollars in damages that I need to figure out how I am going to replace and repair,” I said, handing him a plate then rummaging through the bag for my food. I passed Max the bag and started eating. I forgot how good McDonalds could be. I wasn’t allowed to have it with Ryan. It would destroy my figure and make me fat. That’s all he ever told me. “Fast food will make you fat and if your fat no one, including me, will ever want you.” I would’ve just gained weight and let him leave me, but if I even gained a pound I was getting hit and called fat and told that I needed to go running on the treadmill for an hour. Then I was told I needed to skip two meals to make up for that pound.
One good thing I gained from his abuse was an amazing figure and the ability to outrun him most days. I guess that was the silver lining in our relationship. Max ate quietly as if the world was on his shoulders, and for all I knew it was.
“Penny for your thought?” I asked him. Maybe he would understand the term. Most people I said it around had no idea what I meant.
“That’s a saying I haven’t heard in years. Honestly, I’m just wondering how you’re going to hold up tonight in this house. I’ve heard the nightmares can get really bad when a victim returns to the scene of the incidents. I have work in the morning, but I can check in on you when I get home if you want,” his offer was sincere and seemed genuine. I guess I could see him as a friend.
“If you want to, you don’t have to check on me. You don’t owe me anything more than what you did by saving me that night. You did your job. I’m sure this isn’t a part of the job description,” I blurted out.
“It’s not, but I know things are bad for you right now and after seeing your family and your friend Ally, I’m sure you could use the company who won’t force you to talk about what happened,” he replied taking a bite of his burger.
I nodded and we finished our meal in silence. He gathered up the trash from the table and took it to the trash can in the kitchen. He even took the trash out. We spent the next three hours cleaning up the rooms, airing out the rooms and luckily he found my laptop where I hid it. No harm was done to at least one of my computers. I scheduled an appointment with a computer tech from one of those you break it, we fix it places. Hopefully I could get most of it replaced without it costing me a few thousand dollars. I couldn’t afford that.
We tossed out so much food, I’m going to have to go grocery shopping when we are done here. I’ll ask Ally to go with me after work. Max had rolled up the rug in the living room and took it outside. I don’t know if he put it in the trash can or next to it. Luckily for me the blood was mostly absorbed in the carpet and didn’t seep into the wood. He checked the basement, so I didn’t have to go down there. He said the room looked fine. Nothing seemed out of place and there was no sign of blood on the ceiling. I was grateful for him. This week is going to be tough. Going back to work is going to be a struggle. Going out alone is going to be a struggle and sleeping is going to be impossible without a sedative.
I walked Max to the door after he was done helping me with all the heavy lifting. “Thank you for helping me today,” I said as he opened the front door.
“You don’t have to thank me. I’ll talk to some of the guys down at the station and see if they can find it in their hearts to help get the rest of the destroyed furniture out of the house with me tomorrow, if that’s okay with you. I know at least three guys who would be willing to help. This is what they do,” he explained that three of his coworkers work a side job as guardian angels for people like me. I don’t want to be seen as weak, but I’ll accept the help. There is no way in hell I can get that bed out of here by myself.
“I’d really like that.” I said and gave him my number, “I promise I will charge my phone once I find a charging cord he didn’t cut in half.” I rolled my eyes at how petty this man was. Like I know women who aren’t as petty as he is.
“I think I saw one on his side of the bed. I guess he didn’t want to destroy his things,” Max said as he shrugged his shoulders. Boy if this dude had a single clue as to how right he was. “Have a good evening Megan.”
“You too, Max,” I replied and that was that. He turned away from me and walked to his car. I quickly shut and locked the door behind him. I don’t know why I wanted to slam the door shut the instant he was out of the house, but I needed the silence.
I trudged up the stairs and spotted Ryan’s charger on the floor. Thankfully we had the same phone. Another damn phone call I had to make in the morning, shutting off his phone. I plugged my phone in and waited the grueling three minutes for it to boot up. I wasn’t allowed to upgrade my phone until his phone was available for an upgrade and if mine was available first, he would take my upgrade and make me wait. My phone was two models ago, his was the latest and greatest. Also, the most expensive. I’ll be stuck with the payments still, but it will be worth it.
The phone screen lit up and his face popped across the screen, and I almost screamed forgetting his picture was my background. I quickly tapped my password into the phone and turned off location services. We shared location information with each other out of “safety”. More like control. I didn’t want him knowing where I was. I knew he was out and had his phone. I was afraid to look at any of my social media accounts. I didn’t need to see whatever vial he was spewing about me to his friends.
My phone then glitched out in my hand as hundreds of text messages came through my phone. Some from the friend group that I let down. Some from my sister before the incident happened, a few messages of disapproval from my mother and a few calls from my cousin. But it was the eighty-six missed texts and the hundred and three phone calls from Ethan that had my heart racing. No one told him.
I didn’t bother with the voicemails; I just tapped on his number and called him. Within the first ring he picked up.
“Where the hell have you been?! I’ve been calling morgues and funeral homes for days!” Ethan shouted into the phone. Well, this was going to be a fun conversation.