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Emotional Ties
Laurel was oddly quiet as we hauled our gear into the entrance of the seedy-looking place. Or perhaps, given everything, her silence wasn’t strange at all. Seeing the wallpaper curling from the wall above the alleged check-in desk, my every instinct was to grab my daughter and get out of there. The motel didn’t look like it had seen a decent clean for a decade, let alone a lick of paint, but for Laurel’s sake, I played along. She needed a bed for the night. I just hoped it was unsoiled.
Nathanial had been able to barter a reduced rate for three rooms, presumably because the squalid-looking pit that called itself ‘Comfort Stop’ was so empty, but I’d accepted the room key without complaint. We’d probably have to get used to this level of ‘luxury’ in the short term, and in the grand scheme of things, what did it matter?
Laurel and I were together and we were safe.
I had reasons to be thankful.
“Well, this is nice.” Sally’s dry tone echoed from down the hall as she pushed open the door to her room.
As requested, Nathanial had managed to get us three adjoining rooms, and Laurel and I had been assigned the middle one. Sally was staying on our left and Nathanial was already striding into the one on the right. I watched as Sally disappeared into her home for the night, glancing back at Laurel.
“I suppose we should go in then.” Laurel turned the key in the lock and shoved the door open.
“Yes.” I held the door for her as I crossed the threshold, dragging our bag into the room as she flicked on the light. Pale, sickly illumination flooded the space, lighting the 1970s-style décor. “It’ll be good to have a bed for the night.”
My gaze traveled to the weary-looking double bed in the center of the room, my brow creasing as I wondered if it would actually support both our weights. I hoped so, though I doubted the mattress would be as hard as I liked.
“This is awful.” Laurel collapsed into the only chair in the place. “I don’t even know if I can spend a night here.”
“Oh, come on.” I feigned laughter as the door swung closed behind me. “It’s not that bad.”
Though, even as I spoke, my focus flitted around the room, concluding otherwise. The paintwork was nicotine-stained, the skirting boards chipped, and the furniture horribly dated. The two doors leading to the adjoining rooms looked as though they were made from plywood. No doubt Sally and Nathanial would be able to hear every word we said. Even on our pitiful income, I wouldn’t have chosen to stay in accommodation like this.
“It’s worse, Mum.” She surveyed the carpet with suspicion, and glancing down, I couldn’t blame her. The floor covering was supposed to be beige, and the brown hue was definitely off-putting.
“Okay.” Dropping the bag to the floor, I placed my purse on top of it and perched on the edge of the bed. The mattress was every inch as soft as I’d feared. “It’s rubbish, but let’s just try and make the best of it, shall we?”
“The best of it?” Her face fell. “I know the life we’d built wasn’t amazing, but I liked it. I liked the school and the friends I made there.”
“I know, Laurel.”
Her desperate tone ripped at my core. I’d hoped beyond reason that we’d been able to put upheaval behind us, but sitting in the shitty motel, Sam’s inheritance kept paying out. It didn’t matter that I’d ended him. Still, his presence reached out from beyond the grave and turned the knife.
Not that the explanation was entirely fair. I’d made my choices. Once upon a time, I’d chosen Sam. I’d thought he loved me. Maybe he had. Then, on another day, his reign had run out of road and I‘d decided to finish him. I wasn’t blameless in the story of my life, but none of that helped appease Laurel’s desolation.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
What else could I say? She, above everyone else, was the innocent victim in my story. She hadn’t asked to be born. Hell, she hadn’t asked for any of this. All she sought was a normal life, one with the same dull routines most teenagers rebelled against. Instead, all Sam and I had managed to provide was trauma and turmoil.
“None of this is your fault.” Leaning to reach for her hand, I coaxed her teary eyes to meet mine.
“I just can’t believe it’s come to this.” She scanned the room again. “I thought we were moving forward.”
“Me too.” Seeing her understandable emotion only reinforced my own wretchedness. I’d done a decent job of burying my anguish during the day, but now the two of us were alone, the floodgates opened. “It’s been one hell of a day.”
Seeing my tears, she leaned forward and grasped my other hand. “It’s okay, Mum. We’ll get through this.”
I smiled at her reassuring words, though I loathed how strong she needed to be. She’d experienced more in her short life than many adults ever needed to endure.
“I know.” I squeezed her fingers. “But I didn’t see any of this coming.”
“You said the prime minister was after you.” She frowned, as though she couldn’t believe it. “Because he hurt you.”
“That’s right.” Dread curled in my belly as I guessed what her next question would be. She’d want to know why, would need to know what had happened. Laurel was too old to be fobbed off anymore. She was too smart.
“Will you tell me what happened?”
“He was friends with your dad.” My eyes fell closed as I recalled Sam’s snarling face. If I was going to tell her that the monster who’d beaten me for all those years might not even be her father, I had no idea how. “Before you were born. But even then, things weren’t great between Sam and I.”
Blinking my eyes open, I met her concerned face.
“What did he do to you?” Her voice was tiny.
“It’s what they both did.” My quiet tone matched hers. Sally and Nathanial might already know the details, but they didn’t need to know how badly it had affected me. “Sam drugged me and offered me to Wilson.”
Anger pulsed inside me at the admission. Sam had done that—they both had. He’d used me, taking what he wanted without regard for my feelings. Just like he always did.
“God, Mum.” Her free hand rose to cover her mouth. “You mean, he raped you?”
I nodded, unable to affirm my denigration with words to the one person who meant the most. “Nathanial has seen the evidence that proves it.”
I stopped short of revealing there was video footage of my ordeal. Honestly, I still couldn’t wrap my head around that myself.
“Jesus.” She rose from her chair and wrapped an arm around my shoulder as she sat down beside me. My tears were falling hard and heavy, and fleetingly, I speculated if they’d ever stop. “I’m so sorry.”
“Yes.” I pulled in a breath. “It sucks.” My head pounded as I contemplated my next words. “But there’s more.”
She turned to look at me. “More?”
“Yeah.” I wiped my eyes with the heel of my hand. “That all happened nine months before you came into the world.” Staring into her eyes, I wondered whether she’d cotton on to what I was trying to tell her or make me spell it out. Either way, I couldn’t blame her.
“What are you saying?” Her expression crumpled. “That I’m the product of this violation?”
Shit, it sounded even worse when she put it that way, and I instantly regretted not being clearer.
“I didn’t mean to make you feel worse.” Resting my hand on her knee, I prayed she believed me. “I’m sorry, Laurel.”
She shook her head, sniffing back her own emotion. “It’s not your fault. I just...” Her sentence trailed away into bewildered silence.
“The truth is, I don’t know, sweetheart.” I heaved in air. “I was still having sex with Sam at that time, and he could be your father, but looking back at the way he behaved, it makes me wonder. Maybe he suspected you were Wilson’s right from the get-go. It might explain the way he was with you sometimes.”
I didn’t want to elaborate on the type of behavior I was alluding to, but sadly, I guessed Laurel would be able to imagine.
“So, this Wilson might be my real dad?” She scowled, presumably wanting to deduce which of the two men might be the worst outcome. It wasn’t a brilliant result either way.
“He may be.”
“And does he know about me?” Her eyes widened.
“I honestly don’t know.” I exhaled, wishing there were simple answers for us both. “Sam kept his so-called ‘friends’ to himself and me totally in the dark.”
“And this all came out today?”
“Amongst other things, yes.” My mind flitted back to the bloodshed at the house. Laurel didn’t need to know those gory details yet. “I’m glad you were at Chloe’s.”
“Yeah, at least I had today with her.” Her shoulders fell at the thought of her friend.
“This will pass, sweetheart.” I didn’t know how and I didn’t know when, but I had to believe it. “And when it does, you can get back in touch with your friends and explain.”
“They’ll hate me by then.” Her lips trembled. “What normal person just cuts off their best friends without reason?”
The answer hung heavy in the air around us, although neither one of us wanted to empower it with words.
No normal person would behave that way. But then Chloe and the others didn’t know what we’d been through. They didn’t know who we were or what we’d survived.
There was no normal for us.