33. Always
Always
Luke
Dani spent the day in bed. Only getting up to use the bathroom and check on Mason. I brought her food and water, checking on whether she took her pain meds or not. She never did. She didn’t eat the food I brought either.
I sit on the couch and watch her sleep through the open bedroom door. She hardly moves, her breathing is shallow, and the odd word works its way from her lips. I’m starting to get worried; I don’t think it’s normal to sleep for almost thirteen hours.
The front door swings open and Gabe saunters in. "Damn dude," he whistles, "you look like shit." He drops next to me on the couch.
"Thanks." I scrub my face.
Gabe glances into my room. "Ah," Gabe elbows me, "now I know why you look like shit. Up late learning about the female form."
"That’s Dani," I reply.
"Even better."
"She was attacked last night."
Gabe’s smile vanishes and his body starts shaking. "By. Who." He growls.
I give him the footnotes, as it’s not my story to tell.
"Get the boys," Gabe stands, cracking his knuckles, "we got a fuckhead to kill."
"One: we don’t have any boys and two: that’s not up to us." I state.
"The fuck it’s not!" Gabe’s hands curl into fists at his side.
Gabe may be the nice, fun one, but he has a temper that could level the city. Especially if the one hurt is someone he cares about.
"It’s not up to us, Gabriel. I’m not doing anything that’s going to upset Dani even more than she already is." I say.
Gabe flops back down on the couch defeated. "Fine. But if I see him, I cannot be held responsible for my actions. I mean, if I’m driving and he walks out in front of me," Gabe shrugs, "if I hit him, that’s not my fault. He walked in front of my car."
"It doesn’t count if he’s walking on the sidewalk." I deadpan.
"It does if I get run off the road. You know how some people drive around here. Especially in the downtown core."
I bark out a laugh. "Idiot."
Dani lets out a moan and Gabe jumps off the couch and rushes into my room.
"Gabe!" I bark.
"Hey Dani girl," he says softly. "How you feeling babe."
My brother sits next to Dani on the bed, and she cowers away from him. Gabe reaches out to brush her hair off her face when her body starts shaking.
"Don’t touch me." She breathes.
"Gabe." I hiss.
He waves me away. "It’s only me," he says in a voice so gentle; it doesn’t sound like him at all. "You know I’d never hurt you, Dani girl." Gabe reaches out again, and Dani recoils.
"Don’t touch me."
Gabe looks at me with anger in his eyes. He stands from the bed and leaves the room. I walk in, taking the empty glass, and refilling it, placing it back on the table with her meds. Dani watches as I take her plate of veggies she never ate and step back from the bed.
"Thank you." She whispers.
I smile the best I can, but the sorrow in her voice makes it hard. "I’m going to get you something fresh to eat, okay?"
She nods and lays back down, wrapped in my shirt and the blanket. I close the door halfway and go into the kitchen.
"I’m going to fucking kill him." Gabe states leaning against the counter. "He did a fucking number on her beautiful face."
"The rest of her isn’t any better. Road rash all over her torso and back, she’s covered in bruises," I mutter as I pull stuff from the fridge to make her a sandwich. "Blood was matted in her hair. I think he bashed her head against something. The doctor didn’t tell me much."
Gabe’s face flushes with anger. "Fucking prick."
"She won’t let me touch her." I state.
"Seriously?"
I nod as I put her sandwich together. "I want to hold her, comfort her. But every time I try, she curls into herself." I sigh, planting my hands on the kitchen island and bowing my head.
The first time I tried, the minute I touched her skin, she let out a gut-wrenching scream. The second time, she fought me. The third time, she burst into tears. And every single time shattered my fucking heart. I feel helpless. With every hour that passes, a pit of worry grows larger in my stomach.
I plate the sandwich and walk back into the room, placing it next to the now empty glass. "Try to eat something, Sweetheart."
I make it as far as the door when Dani calls my name. I glance over my shoulder. Dani’s sitting up; the blankets are lying on her lap.
"Yes?"
She slowly climbs off the bed and inches her way over to me. I don’t move. Hell, I don’t even breathe in case it scares her away.
"Thank you. For everything." Her arms slither around my waist and she squeezes gently before letting go.
"Anything for you, Sweetheart," I force a smile. "Always."
Dani
I feel like shit.
My whole body hurts.
I should take some pain meds, but I don’t have the ambition to move. Luke has been coming in every half hour to check on me. His concern is more evident now then it was before I hugged him, and I feel horrible because I didn’t want to touch him. It has nothing to do with him, he has been nothing but amazing. It has to do with me and that tiny nugget in the back of my head telling me that every person I care about will hurt me.
There's a knock on the door.
"Come in."
The door opens and Luke steps into the room. "How you feeling?"
I look down at my lap and shrug. "Good, I guess."
"Are you in any pain? Do you need anything?"
"No, thank you."
There's a pregnant pause, then Luke asks softly, "would you like to talk about it?"
My heart stops and my stomach rolls with nausea. Talking about it brings back the memories and they're worse than the act because you have to re-live it over and over again, until it breaks you and you have to fight to push them back into the metal box in the back of your mind and lock them back up.
"If you're not ready, I won't push you Sweetheart."
I shake my head. "It's not that I'm not ready, you're never truly ready to talk about the abuse you went through. It's the memories it brings up. But it's good to talk about it, or at least that's what my therapist used to tell me." I nod to the other side of the bed. "Would you like to join me?"
Luke walks around the bed and sits on the edge. "Whenever you're ready."
I wrap myself up in the blanket, using it as a shield of protection and swallow past the lump in my throat. "I'm not ready to talk about what just happened, but I'll talk about my past. It may help you understand why I was pushing you away earlier."
Taking a deep breath, I begin. "When I first met Josh, I thought he was the sweetest guy. He would meet me at my locker after every class, I would find little notes, or a flower taped to my locker. He would take me out for dinner every Friday and lavished me with gifts.
"We were dating for three months when the manipulation started. It started with him saying I was being dramatic when I cried or I was overreacting when I got angry. My feelings never mattered. He would tell me to suck it up or to just deal with it. He would say something about my looks or weight then tell me he was only joking.
"He never liked how much time I would spend with Erin. Said she was a slut and that he didn’t want me hanging out with her because she would turn me into one too. He kept me from her as much as he could and when I would bring it up, he’d say that it wasn’t healthy to spend that much time with her and that everyone else thinks so too." Tears being to roll down my cheeks.
Luke places his hand palm up between us. A waiting invitation of comfort and support.
"When I got pregnant however, he started blaming me for things out of my control. He blamed me for the condom breaking, for having morning sickness that lasted all day, for gaining more than twenty-five pounds, for going into labour while a hockey game was on," I snort. "It moved to physical once I started showing." I wipe my cheeks and slip my other hand into his.
His hand doesn't move to wrap around mine. He's waiting for me make the first move.
"It got worse after Mason was born. He stopped using his fists and started using objects. He burned me, whipped me, stabbed me. He used a bat to break my hand, stabbed me with a fork. Pushed me down the stairs while I was holding Mason," I shake my head. "It only stopped when his daddy told him that he needed to ditch me because the college recruiters were looking at him for a hockey scholarship."
I close my fingers around his and he gives my hand a squeeze. Our eyes meet and I fear the worst, the look of pity. However, that's not what I see in Luke's ice blue eyes, in fact I don't find pity, I find tenderness and dare I say…love.
"How did you get the scar on the side of your face?" he questions softly.
I touch it, running my fingers down the raised skin. "Our waiter at the restaurant we were dining at told me I was very beautiful, so Josh decided to change that." I touch the fine line scar again. "It took two surgeries to get it to look like this. He flayed me open like a fish. It's the one I hate the most. It's not as easy to hide like the other ones."
"Your scars are proof that you went through hell and walked out the other side with your head held high. They show that you are a survivor and that makes you even more beautiful." Luke says.
I duck my head while my cheeks heat and slide my hand out of his and he lets it go, leaving his between us.
"Can I ask another question?"
I nod.
"Did you ever speak with someone about what you went through?"
I twist the end of the blanket around my hand. "I did. Mason was three when I started speaking with a therapist. I was in a dark place that I couldn't get out of, no matter how hard I tried." I rub the faint pink line down my left wrist. "I tried to end my life. Mom found me and I was rushed to the hospital, where I got proper treatment."
"Have you thought about speaking with someone again?"
I shrug. "Sometimes."
Luke pulls out his phone. "I can look into a therapist for you, if you'd like. Or, you can speak with Elle."
"Is Elle a therapist?"
"She is, however, she specializes in helping children and teens deal with trauma due to abuse. She may be able to help you find a therapist with expertise in domestic violence when you're ready."
I bite the side of my thumb. I've only met Elle three times, I don't know how comfortable I would be speaking to her about my private life.
Luke stands from the bed. "Think about it and if you decide to give her a call, let me know."