CHAPTER 5

 

Three hours later, I’m ready to blow a gasket. My last book is finished and I have taken a nap, but when I wake up, there is an inner unrest that forces me to pace back and forth in the room. Boredom is holding my body hostage. I cuss at the walls, which seem to be closing in. The window is cracked open and the shrill song of a bird fills the room. The sound chips away at my nerves. I long for loud, harsh music to numb my mind, or better yet, a nice blade to slice into my skin to take off the edge.

My eyes fall on the window and an idea takes over. They will probably put me in a straightjacket after this, but at least I will have satisfied the need to hurt myself one more time. My feet shuffle over the linoleum until I reach the open window. My elbow slams hard against the glass, but instead of the expected cracking sound, my funny bone resonates in my arm. A dull pain radiates up into my shoulder. After a minute of recuperating while relishing the throbbing pain, another attempt yields the same result. I realize that the window is shatterproof. This time, the “F” word rolls easily off my lips.

With bubbling rage, I gaze outside, my eyes scanning the garden. A group of residents are gathered under a tree, probably for a therapy session, and a couple of guys play boccie by the basketball court. Some more women are scattered throughout, either sitting in the shade in little lounge chairs or on the grass with a book in their laps. Everyone seems to be outdoors with something to do except for me. I bite my lip. There is this urge in my legs to join them, but that would be admitting defeat.

My eyes scan over the wall before resting on the small gate with the security keypad. When the administrator first showed me around, she pointed out the door, highlighting that most residents could take walks by the lake once they jumped through some hoops and made progress in their therapy. I still can’t believe that almost every patient is here voluntarily, happy to have their liberties infringed upon without protest. Luke told me his dad is paying a fortune for my stay; apparently Oakwood House is the “it” designer rehab place for Maine’s elite.

A small hum of an engine captures my interest at the other side of the garden where flowers sway softly in the wind. A truck has pulled up and Finn jumps out, walking to the back. His shirt is casually tossed aside before he drags a big bag of mulch over to an unkempt area, which is partially hidden by the laundry annex. I have to admit he has a nice body when measured to the current beauty ideals. There are some hints of a six-pack and his shoulders are proportionate to his waist. Some female residents are practically drooling at the sight. I wrinkle my nose in disgust. What a show-off! He purposely causes a spectacle to draw attention to himself.

My pride is still hurt from him calling me a brat and I decide to give him a spoon of his own medicine. Those poor women out there are all in a weak mental state—he should not taunt them like this. With invisible steam pouring from my nose and ears, I march through the building and over the adjacent lawn until I end up in front of him.

He has started to loosen the ground with a shovel, his body covered in sweat which glistens in the sunshine. In a former life, I would have considered him hot.

I toss his muscle top in front of his feet. “Put that damn shirt on.”

“Why? It’s scorching out here.” His lips twitch; he must think this is funny.

“This is a hospital and not the beach.” My teeth clench together so hard that my jaw hurts. “You don’t walk around half naked.”

He chuckles, picking up the shirt. “Admit it, my body is turning you on.” He starts to shake invisible dust off the fabric, pushing out his chest for me to admire.

“Wrong, buddy. I don’t even like guys.”

“Oh.” His eyebrows arch, yet there is disappointment in his eyes. “Are you a lesbian?”

If the steam from my nose was real, it would have robbed me of my vision. “Nooo.” My voice is shrill. “I just find guys disgusting.”

With a smirk, he pulls the shirt over his head. “Well, I don’t want to cause you any distress.” His arms find the holes. “Out of curiosity, what did my kind do to you to get you so wound up?”

Tears rise in my throat. “I was raped,” I blurt out before I can help myself.

The smile vanishes from his face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

I’m expecting the typical pity expression that is always in everybody’s eyes when they find out, but he doesn’t even flinch. His foot drives the shovel into the ground and transports a pile of dirt to a nearby corner.

There is nothing left for me to do but return to my prison. I spin around and storm off. I don’t even make it ten feet before his voice stops me.

“Hey, care to help me?”

I slowly turn, my brows knotted together. “Why would I want to help you? I hate gardening.” It’s a total lie. I have always loved spending time in our backyard, helping my mom plant the flowers for the summer season.

“I thought it would be something for you to do. You must be dying of boredom up there alone in your room, but then, maybe not . . .”

He returns to his work, probably just trying to be nice because he feels sorry for me after all.

“I don’t need your sympathy,” I snap.

His eyes find mine. “Look, if you’re out to cry on someone’s shoulder, I’m the wrong guy. I just got out of my own hell and don’t need anyone else’s baggage.”

I fold my arms in front of my chest, curious. “Is that why you have to do community service?”

“Yep.” The pile of dirt is tossed with more force than the last.

“What did you do?”

“I beat up my mom’s boyfriend.”

I snicker. “Did he ground you or something and you didn’t like it?”

“He molested my little brother.” His lips press together in a thin line as he rams the shovel deeply into the ground.

A sudden anger rages through me. How can all these sick people in the world live with themselves? I want to scream and punch the walls, or at least rant a little.

The prospect of returning to my lonely room is no longer appealing, and I get the second shovel from the truck. Five minutes later, my blouse clings to my back when I ram the shovel into the ground again, the loose dirt hurled into a corner with all my might. Every bit of energy which is poured into the task is like a loud shout that cleanses my soul. The more force I use, the better it feels.

Jed’s face appears in the dirt, and I cut it in half with the sharp edge of the shovel. His chest is next and I dig deep into his scarred skin. Tears trickle down my cheek. My bad conscience had always eaten me up after what Justin did to him, but Jed got triple payment with interest. For him, it was always about revenge, and getting his needs met was just an added bonus. His friend was different. He only wanted my body and tore away everything beautiful inside me.

With fury, I stab at the ground, sweat pouring down my face. My throat is raw from thirst, but my anger battles any physical need. I want to hurt Jed—and I want to hurt his friend. Driving the shovel into the ground is the best I can do. It’s liberating to cut into his imaginary body over and over again. When I lift up the dirt, it’s like tearing him apart and tossing away his malice.

An iron taste in my mouth mixes with the salt from my tears and sweat as I silently weep. I’m completely captured in my assault of the ground so that the cold water hits me with total surprise. I squeal, my eyes darting around for the culprit.

Finn laughs loudly when he aims the spurt of the garden hose right at me.

“Get that away from me,” I shout.

In response, he tilts the hose upward, shielding the harsh gush with his thumb. Drops pelt down on me like a soft rain shower. I turn my face toward the sky, savoring the coolness of the water on my heated skin. A laugh escapes my throat and scares me to death—it has become such an unfamiliar sound.

I have had just about enough when he diverts the water toward the flowerbed. There is a wide grin on his face. “There’re some drinks in the cooler by the truck in case you’re thirsty.”

I stroll over to the car, slightly shivering under a gentle breeze. My clothes are absolutely soaked. I pull my hair to the side into a ponytail, wringing out the water. The cooler is on the passenger seat and holds quite a selection—soda, water, and a six-pack of Hanfill beer. My fingers run over the chilled metal of the cans before enclosing one of the beers.

I quickly scan the area to ensure no one saw me before my eyes settle on the open garden shed that is fully hidden from view by the laundry annex. Strolling over while casually glancing around to keep an eye out for a nurse, I lower myself on the sun-flooded steps of the shed. The beer can is safely hidden behind the wooden wall. I take a quick sip, halfway expecting a scolding, but the area is so secluded that I doubt anyone will hassle us here.

Finn soon slumps next to me onto the other side of the steps, his beer can concealed in the same manner as mine. He fishes a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket and offers it to me.

“Want one?”

I have never smoked in my life. “Sure.”

He lights mine before his own, inhaling deeply.

Watching how the smoke escapes through his nose and the corners of his mouth, I dare to take a drag. My lungs are on fire. I choke, coughing until tears run down my cheeks.

There is a twinkle in Finn’s eyes. “First time?”

I nod, unable to speak.

“Hold the smoke in your mouth like this and swirl it around.” He pulls his cheeks in, resulting in a silly grimace.

I giggle before I push myself to try again. The burning sensation is bearable when I hold my breath before exhaling. A few drags later, I slowly get the hang of it.

He opens his beer can, taking a few sips, and I dare to gulp down more of my ice-cold brew. We sit in silence, the sun playing on my bare arms and face. Every time I move, I realize how sore I am from the heavy work. My back is killing me. Finn leans against the doorframe of the shed, soaking up the sunshine.

“What ever happened to your rapist?” he asks out of the blue.

“He got off. There was a second one, but they never even caught him.”

A deep wrinkle spreads on his forehead. “How did he get off?”

I finish the rest of my beer, trying to drown the resentment I have felt since the day Jed walked away a free man while I was left in shambles. Yet the wound that was left behind by the injustice is still wide open and throbs like hell.

“When the police arrested him, they searched his house without a warrant. His lawyer filed a motion to suppress, but the cops swore on the stand that Jed gave them permission. Turns out, the bastard secretly taped the whole encounter. When the judge heard his loud words of protest, he threw out all the evidence from the search. After that, there was nothing left to prosecute him with other than my word, and I wasn’t stable enough to testify. That’s when the DA dropped the case.” The bitterness of my words runs like venom over my lips.

“Figures.” He takes another mouthful of his beer. “Wasn’t there any DNA evidence?”

I shake my head. My insides recoil when I remember all those tests they performed at the hospital, which made me feel violated all over again. Not even one of them yielded any result. “Before I escaped, I had my period and Jed didn’t touch me. His friend always used a condom and the doctors were unable to find any useful DNA traces.”

Finn lights another cigarette. “Did they have a suspect?”

“Everyone in town has always believed it was Drake Whitmer. He and Jed were as close as brothers since kindergarten and he disappeared a few days after I escaped. Since Jed never confessed or pointed the finger at him, the suspicion alone wouldn’t have been enough for an arrest anyhow.”

“You know, that’s really fucked up.” Finn’s smoke escapes with a sigh. “Do you think it was Whitmer?”

I shrug when a knife slices into my heart. “I honestly don’t know. I was blindfolded when he was with me and he never spoke. His build matched Drake’s height and weight, so there is a high probability it was him.”

In my mind, I had replayed the times with my tormentor over and over for any type of reassurance, but the memories were so horrific that they usually triggered an anxiety attack before I could come to a conclusion. Even now, the thought is so painful that my insides weep.

My finger runs along the empty beer can. A satisfied shudder runs through me when the edge cuts into my skin. The burn spreading in my knuckles feels divine. “Question is: why would he have disappeared if he had nothing to hide?”

“I guess.” Finn flicks the ashes of the cigarette onto the grass. “How long did they hold you?”

“Three months.” My hand balls instinctively into a fist as something presses on my chest.

He lets out a surprised whistle. “That’s a long time. Must have been tough.”

That is the understatement of the year—it was like a trip to hell and back. “Yep.” I suppress the oncoming tears, mad at myself. I shouldn’t have told him. He is a total stranger, after all, who just happened to catch me at a good moment. Talking about my kidnapping only causes incredible heartache.

He must have sensed my distress, a sad expression spreading across his face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

I want to change the subject. “What about you? Did they convict your mother’s boyfriend for what he did to your brother?”

Before he has a chance to reply, a furious voice disturbs our break.

“What the hell are you both doing?” Luke’s eyes are dark when he glares at the beer can, the cigarette butt next to my knee also in his direct line of vision.

“Relax, we’re just chilling.” Finn extinguishes his cigarette in the dirt.

“You provided alcohol to a minor.” Luke’s finger shoots angrily in Finn’s direction. “That’s a crime, my friend, and my dad told me you’re already on probation for attempted murder. This will have some serious consequences.”

I tug at his hand. “Come on, Luke, it’s not a big deal. It was only a beer.”

“It’s a huge deal.” He frowns at me. “You’re on medication and alcohol is dangerous. I can’t believe how irresponsible you are.” His eyes zoom in on the cut on my finger. “And bravo, another self-harm injury. Even when you’re locked up, you still find ways to hurt yourself.”

Tears spill from my eyes. “All you ever do these days is criticize me. I was actually having a really good day and you had to spoil it.” I jump on my feet, ready to take off.

He tries to pull me into a hug. “Look, Kels, I—”

I push him away. “No, Luke. Just leave me alone.” My gaze turns to Finn, who has also risen and watches the drama with narrow eyes. “Both of you.”

My legs carry me away as fast as they can while sobs shake my body. I hate them so much. My life sucks, thanks to those geniuses who always believe they know what’s best for me. In reality, no one does. I am not even sure myself, but talking about my ordeal over and over again sure won’t kill the nightmares. They will probably never stop. That thought scares me more than anything.

As the pain builds up in the depths of my soul, my breath fails me. I gasp, my lungs burning in agony. I can’t keep the air retained within me, so I take quick shallow breaths, yet nothing seems to help. My mouth opens, but no sound comes out and tears stream down my face. A nurse’s firm hands reach for me when my legs finally buckle, but I slap them away. The entire time, an invisible claw continues to squeeze the oxygen from my lungs.

Something wet and cold rubs across the crook of my elbow before a needle pierces my skin. When warmth spreads through my arm, the pressure on my chest finally eases. The sound of a rapid flowing river takes over my brain as black dots start to swim in front of my eyes. Footsteps approach, resonating in my skull like a jackhammer.

“I got you, Kels.” Luke’s words bounce around in my head with painstaking precision.

I try to block them out. My arms want to complain when he scoops me up, but they are too heavy to fight him. Everything feels surreal, and then the river sucks me in.