EMBER
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
My body screams in constant pain. There isn’t a part of me that doesn’t ache. A constant hate and malicious reminder of Dean. He took from me again. He will never do that again.
“Can you take him out?” I ask, not looking up to meet anyone’s eyes. I know I shouldn’t, but I feel an immense amount of shame. They saw the reminders all over my body. I feel the slightest movement, and Andrews and Gray are hauling Dean past us into the hallway.
In order for me to be able to press charges, and to put Dean’s sorry ass away for life, we need evidence.
“If you’re more comfortable with Harley doing it, I can step out. He knows what to do,” Chase reassures me. Harley goes rigid, and I think it’s for the same reason mine does too.
I don’t want him to see me this way, not yet.
“I can do that, baby,” he says to me, his hand slowly resting on my own hands in my lap.
I look up and our eyes connect. He looks so tired and worn down. “It’s okay, let Chase do it. Get evidence of everything he has out there.” He starts to rise off the bed. “He was watching me everywhere. My house. The bookstore. Your house. Atlas’s house. He was everywhere.”
Harley leans over once his feet are firmly planted on the floor.
“Can I kiss you?” he asks for my permission before moving towards me.
I give the smallest nod, and he accepts my confirmation.
He gently palms my face, bringing his lips to my head, and gives me a soft kiss.
He lets the kiss linger for a moment, then walks out the door, saying nothing else, and pulls it softly closed behind him.
Chase and I sit in silence for a moment before he speaks. “Whenever you’re ready. This is all at your pace,” he says gently. “We will want to get photos of all of the marks. Then we will need swabs for DNA evidence.” I nod my head, and I let the silence comfort me for a few moments.
“Okay,” I say before Chase talks me through the process. He knows that none of this is being obtained legally, but we’d rather have something than nothing. I don’t want to take any chances, but I’m not ready to hand Dean over to the police yet.
Chase and I both decide to try and keep as much authenticity and transparency of the collection of the evidence, so we video the entire process. Chase treats me like any other patient, not his best friend’s girlfriend, and that gives me some sort of comfort in this fucked up experience.
After what feels like ages, we have everything documented, as best we can with what we have.
Chase hands me a pair of sweatpants, definitely too big, but they’ll do. He rises from where he’s squatting on the floor and turns his back to me, giving me a moment of privacy to dress myself in the sweatshirt and sweatpants he’d brought.
“You’re good,” I tell him as I put my hair into a messy bun on top of my head. My skin feels too tight. I feel like I have layers of dirt and grime covering my body, even though Chase gave me sterile wipes to wipe down wherever I felt comfortable. We bagged those up as evidence as well.
Chase turns to look at me, and an expression I can’t quite place crosses over his face. “I’m sorry I couldn’t find you sooner.” He looks down at his hands.
“It’s not your fault. None of this is anyone’s fault except for Dean Michaels,” I tell him.
“But hey, you found me, alive,” I reassure him.
I don’t know what moves me to do it, but I walk over and gently hug Chase.
I feel like he has something he’s not ready to say, and I don’t know how it could be related to me, but he seems like he needs it.
Just as I pull away, noting his eyes shining with unshed tears, there's a soft knock on the door. “Everything okay?” Harley’s voice comes from outside.
“You can come in,” I tell him. I feel myself suddenly extremely nervous to be near him. I don’t know why. He would never hurt me, and he would never judge me.
I try to take deep breaths. He appears in the doorway, his eyes meet mine, and a small half-smile hits his face. Just as quickly as the nervousness appeared, every ounce of it melts away as he moves closer.
I duck my head and nuzzle into his tight body. The moment my arms wrap around him, his body physically relaxes against me. I feel his head rest against the top of mine, and he blows out a breath. Chase leaves the room, giving us a moment alone together.
“What now?” I ask before leaning up to look at Harley.
Harley reaches down, slowly so as to not trigger me, caressing my face softly. “Let’s get out of here, baby girl.”
Harley leads me out of the back room, and we make our way down the hall.
Harley’s hand trails behind him, his body shielding me from seeing anything in front of him.
I keep my eyes on our intertwined hands, not ready to confront whatever meets us at the end of the hall.
Harley stops suddenly, my nose crashing into his hard back. He’s a brick wall, unmoving.
“Harley?” I ask. “What is it?”
He turns then and looks down into my eyes. “We should go out the back door, so you don’t have to see him.” He’s right. I should go out the back door, go to the hospital, have the guys drop Dean into the precinct, move on with my life.
I should. But I can’t.
I walk around Harley. In front of me, Dean is tied to a chair near the dining room table.
He’s unconscious, his head lolling to the side.
Andrews and Gray have him gagged with a kitchen towel.
His eye is purple, and there’s a bleeding gash in his head.
I stand in front of where he sits, confined to the chair.
In a way, it’s poetic. He’s kept me in a constant state of confinement for years. Never allowing me any bit of peace. Now I stand in front of him, delivering him to confinement for the rest of his life.
He lets out a moan as he comes back to consciousness.
His eyes slowly blink open. The first thing he sees as he opens his eyes is my face.
Once he’s fully conscious, he begins squirming and yelling behind his gag.
Every word, every fight against the ties, they’re all feeding a fire low in my belly.
Before I can register what is happening, I’ve gotten closer.
His eyes widen, and the back of my hand lands across his face, whipping his head to the side.
“Shit,” I hear come from behind me. I don’t know who it is, because my focus is on the worthless human being in front of me.
His eyes meet mine in surprise. Hell, I’m surprised, but I am sick and tired of being under his fucking thumb.
I turn and begin pacing in the small space.
I look at him and realize he’s in the same seat I was just the night before, before he violated me after rendering me unconscious.
My rage is building within me. Harley moves behind me, resting his hand on my shoulder, causing me to jump. He immediately raises his hands to show he’s not a threat. “What do you need, baby?” he asks me in a low tone, his words meant for only me to hear.
“I want to walk down the road to the park, and not be scared that someone is watching me.” My voice rises to a scream, and I begin to pace in the small room.
“I want to go to work, and not look over my shoulder while I unlock the door.” I walk closer to Dean.
“I want to kiss my fucking boyfriend on my porch and not be sent photos of it the next day!” I scream in his face.
“What the fuck makes you think you’re so goddamn entitled to me?” I scream at him, losing my grasp on my temper entirely.
He tries to speak behind the gag, but I don’t give him the opportunity to get a word out before I send my right fist into his mouth. He groans and leans to the side, taking the hit. My body physically vibrates with anger.
Dean struggles in his seat, the hit allowing him to work his mouth until the gag comes down just enough for him to get a few words out. “Please, Ember, I love you.”
His words cause the hair on my arms to raise. Every bite mark and bruise feels like it’s on fire.
“No!” I scream. “You love the idea of me. The sixteen-year-old version of me that you could push around and manipulate any time it was convenient for you.” I grab the front of his shirt with both fists and yell in his face.
“You don’t even fucking know me. Any goddamn thing you know about me was learned maliciously, and there is no chance in hell I will ever love you again. ”
Before I have the chance to allow another thought to enter my head, I open my palm and connect it to his face as hard as I can muster.
I lose myself to my anger and release all of the fear turned rage for everything he has put me through over the years.
All of the anger of sixteen-year-old me who just wanted to be loved unconditionally.
All of the anger for the woman I have had to bend myself to become, while trying to shield myself from the horrors he felt were necessary to inflict on my life.
Harley stands back and allows me to do what I need to do.
Finally, when I tire from the beating, I feel a hand cover my own.
Dean is left with blood dripping down his chin, mixing with tears and drool.
His eyes are swelling as I stare at him.
It’s by no means the beating I wish I could deliver, but after the past day of pain and torment, it’s all I can manage.
I am done.
I take two steps back and fall to my knees. Before I can hit the ground, Harley catches me. He puts a hand behind my knees, the other behind my back, and lifts me into his arms. My arms reach around his neck, and I sob into him. I can feel the tears dampening his shirt, and my body feels too heavy.
“Finish this,” Harley says to the three men standing in the kitchen. Then he walks through the dusty trailer full of enough traumatic memories to last me the rest of my lifetime and the next.
We don’t walk for too long before Harley stops in front of his truck.
He walks to the passenger side and opens the door.
I expect him to set me down, but instead, he slides into the seat and pulls the door closed.
He pulls me closer and plants soft and gentle kisses over me as I try to calm myself down.
Harley strokes my hair as he tells me over and over again that I am safe.
“As long as I live, Ember, I will never let anything else happen to you.” His voice cracks and I feel his body trembling.
I use my sleeve to wipe my nose and pull back, just enough to see his face.
Tears stream down his face, and I see the emotion in his eyes as he meets my gaze.
I lean in and kiss his lips gently. He cups my face with both hands, one on each side, so that he’s looking directly at me.
“I love you so much, Ember, and I am so sorry this happened.” He drops his head and pulls me to his chest. “If I would have gotten there just a little earlier, or followed you to work, this would have never happened.”
I pull myself back. “Hey, no,” I say, putting my fingers over his lips. “You are not at fault here. The only person at fault for any of this is Dean.” He shakes his head, clearly not agreeing with my words. This will be a fight for another day. “Can we go home?” I ask him.
“Let me call the guys and tell them they’re on their own,” Harley says.
He gives me one more squeeze, and I inhale every part of his scent.
He pops open the door and slides out from under me.
He buckles my seat belt and covers me with a plush blanket I recognize from my house.
Closing the door, he pulls out his phone as he walks around to the driver’s side.
I can’t make out what he’s saying, but he holds my eyes as he continues talking.
Before he pulls open the driver-side door, the only thing I can make out reading his lips are the words “burn it.” And part of my body feels much lighter in an instant.
“Let’s get you home,” he says as he starts the truck and pulls off the path.
I must have fallen asleep, because I jostle awake as the door opens beside me. Before I can register what is happening, my heart rate increases and I send a fist out, almost landing Harley a shiner.
“Baby, it’s me,” he says as he leans his body back to avoiding being hit.
After a few seconds, allowing me to calm down and settle, my shoulders slump again. “I’m so sorry, Harley,” I tell him, my vision starting to blur with tears.
“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart. This is going to take time, and patience, and love.” He slowly puts out his hand, allowing me to take it in my own time. “And I have more than enough of each of those to help us get through this.”