CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO #2
Barry, Jaxon’s granddad, our neighbour and friend, comes into view. He’s wearing his flannel shirt and linen shorts, and is holding a bat up as he storms in. He roars, swinging the bat at the man in front of me. I scream, covering my ears at the sickening crunch of the bat hitting flesh.
Wails echo from upstairs.
Rose.
My daughter needs me. I can hear she needs me.
But the threat isn’t gone. I won’t lead this man to her.
I push to my feet, staggering against the radiator, missing Andrew Black and the man who has come to mean the world to me when they come barrelling toward me.
The cupboard under the stairs is the first door I come to, and I know there has to be a weapon in there.
I pull it open, but all I see in my panic haze is coats, shoes, paint and cleaning supplies.
Something glints in the light and I reach for it, finding the ice skates my dad bought me for Christmas one year.
Tears spill down my cheeks as I hear Barry’s pained grunt.
I pivot to face the two men, hoping this is all a dream and I’ll wake up any second.
There’s no such luck. Andrew is between us, his back to me, and Barry is closer to the door.
His eyes are wide, filled with anguish and pain as he watches me in horror over Andrew’s shoulder.
There’s clarity behind the anguish and pain.
It’s like he’s silently telling me he’s sorry.
He disappears, collapsing from sight, and I don’t think.
I lift the skate up and use the blade as a weapon, hitting Andrew in the shoulder as a shriek pierces the air.
He moves quickly, spinning whilst holding his hand out, hitting me square in the face. The skate drops from my hand as I topple to the floor, hitting the bottom step. I cry out at the pain in my back. Panic swells in my stomach as breath explodes from my mouth.
Blood flows from his eyebrow and his lip is cut, his jaw already swelling as he takes a step in my direction.
I let my gaze fall to the floor behind Andrew’s legs when I hear a whimper.
I inhale sharply at the knife embedded in Barry’s shoulder.
My chest rises and falls in rapid breaths, a silent scream slicing through my head.
No, no, no.
Barry’s okay. He’s okay. This isn’t his time. He’s still trying; still fighting to help me as he struggles to reach for the bat lying near the door.
My gaze snaps to Andrew when a boot connects with my ribs. A squeak falls from my lips as I hold my hand out. My hair clings to tears and sweat on my neck and face. I’ve never felt pain like this before. It is rooted in my breath, each beat of my pulse, with every movement.
He’s going to kill me.
Hatred in its purest form spills out of Andrew when he looks at me.
My entire body trembles as I try to lift myself up from the floor, bile burning the back of my throat.
He stomps on my foot, and I wail, trying harder to escape when I feel the bone crunch.
A wave of dizziness consumes me as a stabbing pain shoots up my leg.
“Stop! Stop! Please, stop!” I choke out.
“It’s too late for that,” he sneers, gripping the front of my dress.
I hear it tear as I watch his fist coming at me.
I turn my head, trying to avoid him hitting my face.
My jaw throbs as my teeth snap together at the hit.
My vision blurs as he tugs me up, like I’m nothing but a rag doll.
“I won’t stop coming for you. Not until I have you and that brat upstairs.
Or maybe I will drown it and just keep you. ”
“No,” I hoarsely reply, lifting myself up to the next step when his sneering gaze runs over my legs. “I won’t let you.”
Everywhere throbs. My foot. My back. My face feels like it’s on fire. I’m pretty sure I can taste blood.
“You don’t have a choice,” he promises, kneeling slightly. “Maybe I’ll make your husband watch. Watch the life drain from your daughter. Watch the life drain from your eyes when I fuck you over and over. Then when there’s nothing left, when I break you, I’ll slit his throat.”
A ferocious, loud scream pierces the air. It takes me a minute to realise it’s coming from me. My body trembles, my face heats, and a pressure so extreme, so tense, surges inside of me until my face feels like it’s going to burst.
Too many people have tried to take from me.
My birth mum took away my family. My brothers.
The men she brought into my life took my childhood.
They took away what could’ve been.
I will not let this man take my future. I will not let him destroy what Jaxon has given me, the happiness we share, the life we’ve built.
I kick out with strength I didn’t know I had, using my good leg. I’m still screaming, and despite the spots blurring my vision, I watch Andrew stagger back into the side table that is now half broken in the middle of the hallway.
“Lily,” I hear someone yell, coming from the back of the house.
Drew.
The voice stops me from lunging at Andrew and tampers the surge of violence running through my veins.
I sag against the stairs as the backdoor crashes in. I glare at the man to blame for all the destruction and chaos. “I will always have a choice,” I choke out, my throat burning. “And my husband will find you. We will never stop fighting until you’re gone.”
“I’ll be seeing you.”
He jumps over Barry’s limp body and races out of the front door before Drew reaches the hallway.
“Holy fucking shit,” Drew breathes, staggering to a stop to scan the scene.
I point to the door. “He went that way. Andrew Black,” I tell him, feeling my throat throb. It’s never felt this raw. I don’t even recognise my own voice.
Barry wheezes as he rolls onto his back. I try to get up, but my foot gives out, forcing me to the floor. I cry out when I land on my useless hand.
I have to get to Barry. I have to help him.
I try to reassure Barry, to let him know it will be okay, but nothing comes out, the pain too much to bear in my throat.
He has to be okay. He was just trying to help me. Tears stream down my cheeks. I thought I knew how it felt to be powerless. I was wrong.
When a dark figure looms in the doorway, a squeak slips past my lips and I try to get away, petrified that Andrew’s come back.
Drew’s gaze runs over the hallway, then to Barry and then to me. His complexion pales. “Shit, Lily. Your face...”
“H-help him,” I croak out, and climb up the step on my arse and elbows, wincing as I go.
Each movement is excruciating, but I concentrate on Rose’s cries, knowing she needs me more than my body needs to succumb to the pain. I can do this for her. I can stay strong for her.
I reach the top of the stairs as Drew’s voice floats up.
I crawl to Rose’s room, dragging my wounded foot behind me.
My wrist throbs as I use the arm it’s attached to, to drag myself along the carpet.
Her face is red from screaming, her legs kicking up in the air, and I grow angry at not being able to get to her quicker.
“I-I got you,” I assure her, or try to.
I whimper, feeling useless. I’m barely able to lift myself up against the cot.
“D-daddy will c-come,” I promise her, my voice scratchy. I weakly reach into the cot for her dummy with my good hand, hoping it’s enough to soothe her.
Footsteps echo on the stairs and I whimper, pressing harder against the cot. I won’t be able to save her.
My worst fear.
My biggest nightmare.
It’s all coming true. I can’t protect her. And it’s not because I’m trapped in my own mind. It’s because I’m not physically strong enough. I’m trapped from the injuries marring my flesh.
I heave out a breath as the door flies open, needing to find the strength one more time.
Just one more time.
Until Jaxon can get here.
“Oh my gosh, Lily,” Charlotte chokes out, her face ashen as she stumbles into the room.
I collapse to the carpet, panting heavily as the room becomes unfocused. “H-help her. Please,” I plead.
Charlotte races over to the cot, gently picking up my daughter. She coos her, rocking her side to side. “You’re safe, Lily. You’re safe,” she promises me, lowering to the ground beside me.
I’ve never loved Charlotte more in this moment. She shows me my daughter, like she knows I can’t physically get up but can sense how desperately I need Rose in this moment.
“Drew has called an ambulance,” she whispers. “Everyone is safe. You are safe.” I feel her sob as if it came from my own body. She lifts the dress that is hanging from the torn strap, covering my chest. I whimper at the sting, making her flinch. “I don’t know where to touch you.”
“J-Jax,” I rasp.
Then it hits me and a new kind of pain hits me. He heard everything. He heard every cry. Every word exchanged. He listened to every strike and blow. He heard our daughter wailing in her cot. He heard that scream, the scream that emptied what little energy I held on to.
I heave, my chest and neck burning as my body rocks back and forth. He will never be able to unhear it.
“Lily!” I hear roared. “Where the fuck is Lily?”
Heavy footsteps lumber up the stairs. I train my gaze toward the door, knowing who to expect this time. I knew he would come for me. For us. He staggers to a stop in the doorway, gripping the frame as horror washes over him.
“Oh, baby,” he chokes out, coming unstuck. He makes his way over to me, kneeling on the floor. “Baby, what has he done to you?”
His hands hover over me, probably wondering where he can or can’t touch.
He doesn’t realise the relief I feel inside at the sight of him, or how hearing his voice has already eased some of the pain.
My heart aches at the sight of him, so I do the thing he’s not strong enough to do right now.
I reach for him, clutching his T-shirt. “Don’t move,” he orders gently. “God, please don’t move.”
“I-I’m o-kay,” I heave.
“No, baby. You aren’t. Your face, your eyes...” He clenches his eyes shut, lowering his head. Tears fall when he reopens them. “What else hurts besides your face and throat?”
I point to my foot, which is swollen and bruised, and then to the wrist that is hanging limply at my side. “I f-fought back.”
A sob erupts from his chest as he rests his forehead against mine, gently cupping the back of my head. “Angel, you are a fucking warrior. Never again. You will never need to fight like this ever again. This is a vow. A promise.”
“She’s my fucking daughter,” I hear yelled, and my hands grip onto Jaxon, not registering my dad’s voice until I see him storming into the room.
He takes one look at me and collapses to the floor, his hands on his knees as he stares at me. “I...” he gulps, unable to form words.
I can only feel my injuries. I can’t see them. Going by all three reactions, it must be horrific.
I jolt in Jaxon’s arms, whimpering when new voices enter the room. “Hey, baby, it’s the paramedics. They’re going to help you.”
I shake my head, a deep, guttural sound erupting from my chest. I shuffle back, ignoring the shards of pain hitting every inch of my body as I do. Jaxon’s grip tightens a little on my face as he cups my cheeks. “They won’t hurt you. They won’t hurt you.”
I shake my head harder, not wanting anyone near me. Jaxon is here now. Rose is safe. I am safe. Barry is safe. Drew has him.
I whimper again, the sound forcing my dad out of his frozen state. “Princess, you need to let them look at you.”
Rose begins to stir again, her cries echoing in the room as I refuse to let anyone near me.
They don’t understand. I don’t understand.
I just know I can’t let them near me. My pulse races as they begin to pull things from their bags.
My eyes are wide as deep, agonising whimpers and groans slip through my lips.
“Lily, let them help you,” Charlotte pleads, and I hear the tears in her voice.
All their eyes are on me. Their concern, their fear, the pain vibrating through my body—I don’t understand it.
“We need to administer a sedative. ABD,” a voice reveals.
“What?” Jaxon asks. “What does ABD mean?”
The ringing in my ears grows louder and louder until I can barely make out shapes in front of me. I hear Jaxon warn them about something. I feel a hand pressing down on my leg before I feel a sting.
My vision blurs once more, but this time it’s different. My joints feel limp, and a weight on my chest grows heavy, the fight leaving me.