Chapter 12 #4
Lindsey raked flyaway hair out of her face.
"I had to. I know you can't…grasp it…and that's not a dig, I promise.
He just…he'd haunted me every day and every night for fucking years. Talk therapy, EMDR, hypnosis, I tried it all. I had fucking nightmares, flashbacks—I’ve been fucking haunted by hiss ass.
He was never far from my mind. What he did to me.
The helplessness. The fear. The guilt, the shame.
The anger. No matter how brave a face I put on, no matter how much I tried to bury it all and not think about it, I just…
he…it never went away. Dating, hooking up, he was always the invisible third person.
Tainting every facet of my life, my love life especially.
" She huffed a laugh. "Love life—what a fucking joke.
I avoided love like the goddamn plague. How do you love someone when you see someone raping you every time you try to sleep, when you feel him violating you every time you're in bed with someone? "
I felt bile in my throat. "Linz…"
"You were the exception," she whispered, her voice wet and hoarse. "Dane, you were the exception. Why do you think I was so freaked out? I know…"
She shot to her feet and paced to the steps of the gazebo, head tipped back, breathing with slow deliberation.
Started over. "I know it seems like that should be a relief, but it's just terrifying.
To suddenly have silence when you're used to this endless mental noise?
Arguing with yourself. Trying to silence the monster inside.
Trying to pretend you don't hear his sick fucking voice in your head telling you he'll cut your throat if you tell anyone, he'll make sure I go to jail, and you know what happens to little girls in jail, right?
Hearing his voice calling you a good little whore when you choose to lay there and take it instead of fighting it.
You hear that shit—it's all you hear. And then suddenly you meet this guy, and he's sexy and funny and interesting, and he's attracted to you and…
and…you think it'll be like all the other times you've hooked up.
You'll get a little pleasure out of it, and if you're lucky, your fucked up brain will shut up for two fucking seconds. "
I moved behind her, and she didn't look at me, just shook her hands at her sides. "Please don't touch me right now, Dane. I can't keep my mind straight when you talk to me, and I need to get all this out of my fucking head."
"Okay. Can I at least stand near you?" I said.
"Please, yes." She turned to peer up at me, eyes wet and shimmering and wide and sad and hopeful all at the same time. "I need you—" a choked sob, a shake of her head. "I need you close. I just…I'll fall apart if you touch me, and I can't fall apart yet."
"I'll be there when you do," I told her. "No matter how, no matter when, no matter where, no matter why."
"I know, Dane. I know." She shook her head and blew out a short breath.
She glanced back at Duncan. "I went to see him because I had to look him in the eye, face-to-face, without flinching.
I had to face him. I would never have gone looking for him if this hadn't happened.
I guess I thought he was still in jail. Naively, perhaps.
It's not like I went to the trial or knew how long he'd gotten, I'd just been told by fucking Larry, my shit-eater of a brother, that he’d gotten popped for raping some poor girl. "
I was standing behind her, and I heard her swallow, saw her shoulders lift and lower as she controlled her breathing. She leaned back against me, head on my breastbone, drawing strength from me—I hoped. After a moment, she straightened.
"I told him I forgave him. Not for him—for me.
I…I just…I knew I had to try to let it go.
Let him go. Move on. Be free. So I looked him in the eye and I fucking forgave him.
I said the words, at least. I…said a lot of shit that's honestly gonna stay between him and me.
And then the best thing in the whole world happened. "
She paused for effect.
"Two LAPD officers showed up to arrest him for violating the terms of his parole and for violating a restraining order."
It was Rune who pointed out a discrepancy Lindsey had apparently overlooked. "He was on parole in California? I assumed he served his prison sentence in Massachusetts.”
"Oh," Lindsey muttered. "I hadn't thought about that.
Yeah, he was in a state pen in Massachusetts.
So clearly, he got out, moved to Cali, got arrested again there—I assume for something to do with the girl who had a restraining order against him.
" She blinked. "He said he'd been on oil rigs for the last few years.
" A shrug, a wave of the hand. "Whatever. Doesn't matter."
"So he was in the hospital with literal busted balls and he got arrested?" Duncan said, laughing. "That's fucking fantastic."
Lindsey turned and grinned at us. "Oh, it gets even better.
" She rubbed her hands together gleefully.
"They hadn't even finished saying what he was under arrest for when the fucking FBI shows up saying they've got him for drug possession and transportation, possession of a firearm without a license, and witness intimidation.”
"On oil rigs, my ass," Duncan said.
Lindsey shrugged. "He's always been a two-bit criminal, but he also always had a job.
" She let out a breath. "So yeah. I left the cops and the feds to figure out who got to take him away first. But even if and when he gets out again, I'm not living any more of my life trapped by the memory of him. In my mind, he was still this huge, strong twenty-year-old with all the power. He’s not that anymore. He’s wasted away.
He's old. Drug-addled. He’s…he's no one.
He's gone. The thing I was so afraid of—who he used to be and the things he did to me—it's in the past."
Rune appeared beside her. Leaned against her, head on her shoulder. "Linz, honey. I'm so proud of you."
Lindsey laughed. "For what?"
"Oh, I dunno…everything? Surviving. Coming through all that. Not actually murdering Danny Cohen."
Lindsey twisted her head to kiss Lindsey on the crown. "Thanks, babe."
Rune straightened. "So then you left LA?"
"More or less. I tried to go back to work, but…
I kept seeing and feeling Danny behind me.
I kept having little panic attacks. I'd feel him behind me in the parking lot.
In the store. At home. Everywhere I went, I felt him.
I knew he was in jail and not getting out for years at best, but it felt like LA had been contaminated.
Like, he'd been there for how long? He could have shown up at any time.
What if he'd found out I was there? Plus, everyone I knew in LA was gone.
I didn't even have Mom and Pop Rigby to drop by and talk to. "
"And a home-cooked meal," Rune added.
Lindsey grinned. "That too." A shrug. "I woke up one morning and just knew.
At first, I was like, maybe I just need a new apartment.
I dunno. I started cleaning my place out with the idea of maybe moving somewhere else in LA, getting a new job.
But then I started boxing up shit to give away and bagging up shit to throw away, and I realized there wasn't a single reason for me to be in LA.
Your parents weren't coming back. Raquel wasn't coming back.
You weren't coming back. All I had were memories, and a lot of those weren't good ones.
LA, for me, has been…difficult. I got my degree, and I'm proud of that.
I met you and Raquel, and you guys saved my life.
You're my best friends. Rune, you're closer than any sister ever could be.
But there's also just so much shit. So much weight.
And knowing Danny had been in LA at the same time, even for a fucking day, I just…
felt him there. The whole city just felt… slimy."
Duncan cackled. “It feels that way to me all the time."
Rune whacked him. "Hey, I still love things about LA."
Duncan raised his hands in surrender. "As long as you understand that while I have no problem visiting, I'll never, ever live there."
Rune laughed. "No, no. I know." She blew him a kiss across the gazebo. "I'm an Alaskan now, anyway, sweetheart. And happily so."
Lindsey leaned back against me. "So, I gave up my apartment, got rid of most of my shit, and started driving north.
I wasn't even sure I was coming here at first; I was just getting out of LA.
And I…" She closed her eyes, sighing. "I faced things for the first time.
When I had a nightmare about him, I wrote it down.
Every detail. Everything I thought and felt.
I wrote down my flashbacks. Memories. Everything that happened, I wrote it down.
When I had a panic attack, I'd write about it.
Figure out what triggered it. I didn't try to bury what I was feeling. "
"That sounds…rough," I said.
She laughed. "Oh, it was. The first month or so was really, really fucking hard.
I barely slept at night because the more I faced the shit, the more came up.
I remembered things I'd suppressed or forgotten.
Things he'd done to me. I'd forgotten how he used to literally dick slap me in the face when he was done fucking my throat. "
Duncan growled like an angry wolf. "Fucking hell."
She turned to look at him. “Yeah, that's the kind of guy he was. He'd dick slap me and call me his good little whore."
"Fuck," Duncan mumbled. "I'm gonna be sick."
I turned in time to watch him lurch across the gazebo and lean over the railing, head hanging, breathing hard.
Rune went to him. "My sweet, soft-hearted man," she whispered, rubbing his back.
Lindsey turned to face me, her hands resting flat on my chest. "I'm not, like, all better.
What I went through, what he did to me, it'll have its effects on me my whole life.
That's not something you ever really, truly get over.
But I'm…I can honestly say that I'm…maybe not okay, but on the way to okay. "
"Linz," I whispered; I wasn't sure what else I was trying to say, and so managed nothing else.
She rested her forehead on my chest. "For the last month or so, you're all I can think about. I dream about you. I think about…" she buried her face against me. "You know."
"I do," I murmured.
I heard movement, but my focus was exclusively on Lindsey.
She sighed, pulling away to look up at me again. Her eyes were fraught and wet and searching me. "I want to try."
"Try?"
"Us," she whispered. "I…I don't know how to…how to be a good girlfriend. How to…how to love someone. There may be some things that will always trigger me. But I—"
It was my turn to shush her with my hand. "Linz. If I'd known even a hint of what you'd been through, that you had some kind of issue with—"
She tugged my hand away. "I never told anyone. I knew going down often triggered me, but I did it anyway."
"Why?" I asked. "Why do that to yourself?"
A shake of her head. "I felt like…like if I let the panic stop me from doing sexual stuff, he'd won. He’d be taking that away from me. I felt like if I let him win, I was weak, and I’m not weak, so I refused to let him win.
I refused to let him ruin sex for me. Because it wasn't—it's not all the time that sucking dick gives me a panic attack. It’s always seemed random.
Sometimes it does, sometimes it doesn't."
"But Linz, at all is too much. If it causes you any kind of…anything negative, I don't want you to do it. No matter what it is."
"But I—"
"No," I cut in. "Please try to hear me. Yes, it feels good to get a blow job.
Really fucking good. When you were doing that, it was great.
But I don't need it. Your peace and happiness are the only things that are important to me.
If you can't have sex at all, only kiss me and let me hold you, that's okay. I'll be okay."
Her eyes shuttered, and her body shuddered.
"Dane. I want you. I need you. I've stopped having nightmares and flashbacks almost entirely.
Now all I dream about is you. The things we did together.
The way you made me feel." She opened her eyes and gazed up at me, ice-blue eyes soft and warm and deep.
Her fingers fisted into my shirtfront, rumpling the button-down.
"I still don't want to let the past dictate what I can and can't do, but I…I guess I’m willing to stick with what I know is safe until I feel able to experiment with you and see how things feel. "
I brushed her cheekbone with a thumb. "Just communicate with me, Linz. Be honest. No matter what you're thinking or feeling, just talk to me about it so we can handle it…together.”
"I'm not good at that, historically, but I'll try my best."