Mallory
“Mallory, you need to eat something. You’re wasting away. You’ve been holed up in this room for weeks.”
“I’m not hungry.” Staring out the window has become my pastime.
“Mallory, please. It’s just some soup. Your dad wouldn’t want you doing this to yourself.”
The plea in his voice has my head turning in his direction. The concern in his blue eyes makes my heart hurt. “Okay. I’ll try to eat a little.”
The devastating grin he bestows upon me would make one think I offered him the moon instead of agreeing to eat some crappy soup. He returns to the room with the tray bearing the bowl of soup, a can of Coca-Cola, and a slice of cheesecake.
“I know cheesecake is your favorite. I thought I might be able to tempt you to eat some of it too.”
“Thanks.” The bed depresses beside me as he sits down and places the tray on my lap. The delicious aroma of the chicken noodle soup wafts up, and for the first time in weeks, I hear my stomach grumble in hunger. The first sip of the broth wakens my taste buds. The second bite has tender chicken and carrot.
“Good, huh? It’s my mom’s recipe. She sent it over so I could make it for you. It always made me feel better when I was growing up.”
“It’s very good. But you didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”
“It was worth it to just to see you enjoying it. Maybe after you eat we can go sit on the patio? It’s a beautiful day.”
“I don’t know.”
“Finish up. I’ll be back in a little while to pick up the tray.” The disappointed look on his face makes me feel bad. Leaning over carefully, as to not upset the tray, he places a soft kiss on my forehead. “I’m going to clean up the kitchen. Yell if you need anything.”
Watching him as he walks toward the door, head down and shoulders drooped, like he’s carrying the weight of the world, makes me sick. And it’s all my fault. All he wants to do is help.
“Todd?” As soon as I say his name, he stops and looks over his shoulder.
“I think it’ll be nice to go outside later.”
“Great. That’s great, Mallory. You won’t regret it.”
Waking up to my name being softly spoken, my eyes open to see Todd peering down at me.
“Hey, I got the kitchen all cleaned up. You ready to go outside?”
“Sure. I need to put something on first.”
“Got it right here. I grabbed a pair of yoga pants and a hoodie for you. That okay?”
At my nod, he pulls back the covers and helps me sit on the side of the bed. Pulling the hoodie over my head, I work my hands through the arms, the warm weight comforting. Todd slides the pants up my legs before helping me to stand, pulling them up over my hips. Finding my TOMS under the bed, he places them on my feet.
“Come on, Mal. The sunshine is calling.”
For the next two weeks, Todd does his best to make sure I get outside every day, until he no longer has to cajole me into agreeing. Slowly, my strength builds back up, thanks to Todd’s constant cooking for me and the added exercise. I still can’t believe how low I let myself get. The first time I left the room to go outside, halfway down the flight of stairs, I was winded. My yoga pants barely stayed on, sliding off my hips with the amount of weight I had lost without even realizing it. The first touch of sunshine on my face had felt amazing, and I’d soaked in as much as I could. We stayed outside sitting on the swing, me leaning into his hard body with his arm wrapped around me, talking about trivial things, until the sun started to set behind the trees and the crickets chirped in the background.
Throwing my car into park, I hurry to get inside to share my news.
“Todd, you home?” Of course, he’s home. His truck is parked in the drive.
“In the kitchen.”
“Guess what?” Clearing the doorway, Todd’s back is to me as he stirs something on the stove. Moving closer, I wrap my arms around his waist and hug him tight. Putting down the spoon, he turns in my arms and gives me a kiss.
“I’m guessing something good judging by the grin on your face.”
“I got a job!”
“Really? I didn’t even know you were looking.”
“You’ve shown me I need to get out of the house more,” I say, grinning up at him. “You gave me the push I needed. I didn’t go through years of hell to never actually be a nurse.”
“I guess. I’ve liked taking care of you, though.”
“You can continue to spoil me if you want. I’m not gonna complain.” Laughing, I lean up and kiss him.
“If this is what you want, I guess congratulations are in order. You’re going to be a wonderful nurse, Mallory.” His hands slide around my waist to cup my ass, lifting me into him.
“I hope so. I’m nervous.”
“Where are they going to put you?”
“After a few training classes, I’m going to the emergency room.”
“Training?”
“ER nurses are required to have more training to respond to emergencies. We’re on the front line.”
“I think we need to celebrate.” He takes my lips possessively, our tongues dancing together until we are both breathing heavily.
“Let’s go upstairs.”
“You’re going to burn dinner.”
“Screw dinner. If it burns, we’ll order in.” Reaching behind him, he turns a knob on the stove. Wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist, I hang on as he walks out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
My back hits the bed and Todd’s weight settles over me. Kissing me thoroughly, his hand travels south and begins to unbutton my shirt, one by one, until the material parts and his hand settles on my lace covered breast. Nipping kisses down my jaw and neck, until he reaches my chest, his hand snaps the front clasp, then slides over my breast before rubbing his thumb over the nipple. Goosebumps spread over me, causing my nipples to tighten. His tongue languidly licks across the nub before drawing it between his teeth with light pressure. The slight pain causes me to arch my body against his.
Leaning back, he pulls his t-shirt off over his head.
“Take it off.” Quickly disposing of my blouse and bra, I kick off my heels before working at the fastening of my pants. Todd moves my hands away, and slides my pants and panties off in one fell swoop.
Covering his body with mine, his hair-roughened thighs rub against mine. His heavy weight feels good pressing me into the mattress. Taking control of my mouth, he situates himself between my thighs, spreading them wide, making me vulnerable to whatever he wishes to do. One hand wraps in my hair while the other moves to the cradle of my hips to cup me. Testing my readiness, two fingers slide into my hot entrance while his thumb circles my clit, making me moan.
He works his fingers faster, sending me higher, then backing off before I fall over the edge, building me up over and over again, until I’m begging.
“Todd, please, let me come.”
“In good time. All in good time.”
“No. Now.”
“So impatient,” he chuckles before sitting back on his haunches. Wrapping one hand around his dick, he slowly strokes it up and down. My gaze is drawn to the movement, mesmerized by the roughness of his hand sliding against the smoothness of his shaft. Grabbing my thighs in his big hands, he pulls me forward until the backs of my legs are resting on top of his. The tip of his head feels huge as he probes my entrance before thrusting forward in one long, slow push, stretching me deliciously before bottoming out. His hands cup my hips as he withdraws before setting up a rhythm that has me crying out. Higher and higher, I fly, but I can’t seem to reach that peak. As if sensing my distress, the heel of his hand presses into my lower abdomen, increasing how much I feel of his cock tunneling in and out of me. When his thumb flicks my clit, I come so hard, stars appear. My hips in his bruising grip, he pounds into me until he finally stiffens, muscles in his arms straining, pecs and abs flexed, sweat dripping down his face.
Finally, he relaxes and collapses on the bed, careful to avoid crushing me, both of us breathing heavily.
“I think you promised me dinner.” Looking over at him with a smirk, he smiles.
“Do you want me to finish what I was cooking or order in?” Rolling to my side, I throw one of my legs over his and prop my chin on his chest.
“Do you mind ordering pizza?”
Picking up my hand, he twines our fingers together before bringing them to his lips
and kissing the back of my hand.
“Pete’s? Sweet chili chicken pizza?”
“You know me so well.”
“You only mentioned it every day for a week after we tried it. It wasn’t hard to guess.”
2 years later
“Where the fuck have you been?” The slurred words come from behind me, startling me. Jumping what feels like a foot in the air, I turn to look at Todd, my hand on my chest.
“Jesus, you scared the shit outta me!”
“Where. Were. You?” Bringing the bottle dangling from his fingertips to his mouth, he takes a long swig of the amber liquid.
“My replacement had a flat tire on the way in. I had to stay and cover the patients until she arrived.”
“And you couldn’t fucking call me?”
“It wasn’t even an hour, so no, I didn’t call. I’m surprised you’re home anyway.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Taking a staggering step toward me, he pulls the bottle up to his lips.
“You’re usually out drinking with the guys after work. I figured I’d still beat you home.”
“I work my ass off. If I want to go out with the guys after work, I fucking will.”
“I never said you couldn’t.”
Pointing his finger at me, he sneers, and takes another step, unsteadily, his shoulder rubbing against the wall. The look on his face is alarming, and for the first time, I’m frightened of the man in front of me.
“You…you bitch, you just don’t understand the fucking pressure I’m under.”
Slowly backing away from him, inch by inch, I reply, “No, I’m sure I don’t. Look, I’m going to go take a shower and read a book.” I don’t mention I have to be up before him to go to work. At this point, I don’t think that will help the situation.
“What the fuck ever. Go!” he shouts, waving the bottle in my direction. “Get the hell out of my sight!” Abruptly, he turns, losing his balance before falling into the opposite wall. I take the stairs two at a time until I reach the landing. Breathing out a sigh of relief that he hasn’t followed me up, I lock the bedroom door as soon as I enter. Emptying out my pockets in the tray on the dresser, I walk into the bathroom. As I wait for the water to warm up, I strip off my blue scrubs and place them in the extra hamper, keeping them away from the rest of our clothes because you never know what I could bring home from work.
The hot water cascading over me helps me to relax, but I can’t help but replay what happened downstairs in my mind. Usually by the time Todd gets home at night, I’m ready for bed and he ends up crashing on the sectional in the living room. We’re more like ships passing in the night than a couple.
Ever since he received his promotion at work, he’s changed—flying off the handle at the smallest things, drinking with the guys every night. Since I’m working twelve-hour shifts, I’m gone fourteen hours a day at least, and already out of the house before his alarm goes off. Even the days I’m off, I’m heading to the gym before he’s turned back the covers.
I miss the days when he would get up early with me and make me breakfast before work so I had something healthy. Or go to the gym so we could work out together. The weekends I was off, we would spend the time together hiking, going to the lake, or skiing, depending on the season.
The loving man who showered me with attention disappeared after his climb up the corporate ladder. And I’m not sure I like him anymore. Maybe after he gets more comfortable in his position, the man I care about will make a reappearance. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.
Finishing my shower, I throw on a tank top and panties. Leaning against the door, I don’t hear any movement in the outer room. Turning the lock, I ease the door open and check to make sure Todd isn’t in the room. The sigh of relief that leaves me shouldn’t make me feel better. I shouldn’t be scared in my own home. Climbing into bed, I pick up my paperback copy of Maya Banks’ Never Seduce a Scot and keep an eye on the door, praying he sleeps it off downstairs.
Present Day
Tick-tock. Tick-tock. My head pounds in rhythm with the ticking of the clock. Something warm runs down the side of my face, and I blink open my eyes, seeing only beige. Trying to lift my head off the cold tile, a sharp pain shoots from the back of my eyes to my neck. My stomach churns and bile burns the back of my throat as the contents of my stomach empty. My vision dims, and the last thought I have before the blackness consumes me is I hope Donna comes back before Todd does.
3 Months Earlier
Lifting my top up to under my bra, I touch the purple bruising blossoming across my ribcage and flinch. Fuck, that hurts. Reaching for the ace wrap in my locker, I attempt to wrap it around my torso to help stabilize my ribs. Groaning in frustration, I can’t make myself pull it tight enough.
“Need some help?”
The voice surprises me, and I jump, sending shooting pain across my ribs. Son of a bitch. I was positive to check and make sure the room was empty before this attempt. Gingerly, I turn to see my boss, Donna, looking at me with something akin to pity. Before I can answer, she takes the wrap from my hand and begins to wind it tightly around me.
“What was it this time? Another skiing accident?” Blushing, I lower my head as she refers to the time a few months ago when I came to work with a broken ankle, sprained wrist, and black eye. Todd had been furious that I had been flirting with one of the neighbors—a man who was busy talking nonstop about his newborn son and had to show off the adorable baby pictures.
“I tripped over the planter on the patio and landed against the wrought iron table.” In reality, Todd had snuck in the house without me realizing he was home and caught me unaware while I was planting flowers on the back patio. Kneeling over the flower bed, I never saw the kick coming until the heavy work boot made contact, knocking me over, head striking the brick edging of the flowerbed. Luckily, my hair hides the two-inch laceration above my ear.
“You don’t strike me as a clumsy person, Mallory,” she replies, securing the Velcro.
“Just lost track of where the planter was placed. Drank one too many beers.” I keep my eyes averted so she can’t read the lie in them.
“More like he did. You know, you’ve hidden this well. I only had my suspicions about what was going on. When you came in with the black eye, I knew what you’d been hiding.”
“Why do you think it wasn’t what I said? I mean, I ski all the time. Crashing was inevitable.”
“You haven’t gone skiing in a long time and you know it. You pull so many overtime hours here, you don’t have a chance. It was a good cover, and would explain all the injuries you’ve sustained. But I’ve been at this for a long time, spotting the abuse. I bet you didn’t know I volunteer at a shelter for abused women, did you?” With a shake of my head, she continues. “I’ve learned a lot. Heard every excuse in the book. Watched women come in for escape, just to go back in a few days.”
“Why do they go back? If they had the courage to leave, why go back?”
“Conditioning. Manipulation. Abusers get their victims to believe the abuse is deserved. If they would have just been better wives or girlfriends. If they would have just had dinner ready on time, or the house cleaned the way they liked. Or they don’t understand the pressure they’re under at work. I’ve heard it all.”
As I start to lower my top, she walks over to the table and sits down.
“It’s easy to believe they’re sorry. They didn’t mean it and won’t do it again. But it does happen again. And again. After a while, they aren’t sorry anymore. It’s all the victim’s fault. The beatings get worse. Did you know victims of domestic violence are at a higher risk of being killed by their abuser?”
Rummaging around in her bag, she continues. “It’s easier to leave if there are no kids involved. And if the victim has a job. If she’s not dependent on her abuser, she can put money away for herself so when she is ready to leave it isn’t a problem. There are also organizations that will help relocate a victim so her abuser has difficulty finding them.”
Standing back up, she slowly walks over to me, placing her hand on my shoulder.
“You’re a strong woman, Mallory. And as soon as you’re ready, let me know. I will help you.” Handing me a small, white business card, she turns to walk away. “Today, I want you to work the front area. You need to take it easy on those ribs.”
Before she walks out the door, I say, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I don’t want to see you become a statistic. Day or night, call the number. We’ll be there.”
Once the door closes behind her with a soft snick, I bow my head and let the tears flow.
The ringing of the doorbell causes me to open my eyes, and I wince, waiting for Todd to appear. But there’s nothing. I hear the door open, and Donna calls my name, but it sounds far away. Trying to answer is an exercise in futility as no sound passes my lips. The clacking of heels across the tile floor gets closer. Then, a gasp of shock. I try to open my eyes, but I can’t, as if they are glued shut. Donna says my name with urgency. There’s pressure on my throat as a curse leaves her lips. Her voice is harsh in the background, and I am unable to make out the words spoken. A soft hand gently strokes my head, lulling me back to sleep. Then sirens, faint at first, but getting louder with every beat of my heart. More footsteps, heavier this time.
Todd, he’s back!
My chest tightens. I can’t breathe as I brace myself for the oncoming pain, but there is none. More hands are touching me. Lifting. Floating. Moving.
Beep. Beep-beep. Beep.
The sound, it echoes around me, seeming everywhere but nowhere all at once.
Beep. Beep-beep. Beep.
I shift my hand while struggling to open my eyes. A rough, scratchy…something, brushes against my fingers, and they feel stiff as I try to stretch them out. My lids feel heavy, so weighed down, as they finally lift into small slits. It’s all I can manage. There’s white, so much white, and the beeping gets louder. A rush of white noise filters in, and I squeeze my eyes shut before trying again, attempting to even out the sharpness of sound shooting pain to the forefront of my head and down my neck.
A groan escapes my lips, raspy and barely audible. My throat bobs as I try to swallow, but my mouth is so dry, and my tongue feels too thick. I pry my eyes open again, and this time, they cooperate, but the flash of bright light has me wincing at the throbbing headache that immediately intensifies. I blink again, the room becoming clearer, the beeping becoming louder before finally settling at an even tempo.
Beep. Beep-beep. Beep.
My eyes dart around in rapid succession as everything comes into view. IVs, machines, gray railings, the scratchy bedding, sterile white…then, pain. So much pain. A small sob tries to escape, burning my throat from lack of hydration. My mouth is parched, my lips dry.
“Mallory? Hey, sweetie. Nice of you to join us again.” I shift my gaze toward the voice coming from my right, meeting kind eyes and a warm smile. My heart lurches as tears threaten to surface. Donna. But…where—?
“Hey, Mallory. It’s me, Donna. You’re safe, honey. You’re in the hospital, and I have guards posted outside. You’re here confidentially. He’s not going to find you. Just rest. I’ll be right here. I won’t leave.”
Hospital. Confidentially. Guards. The words swim through my mind, but they don’t hold any purchase as my lids become heavy again, the weight of oblivion pulling me under in a way I can’t fight. Blackness hovers around me, and in the next moment, I’m drifting.
When I wake up again, all I can focus on is how much I freaking hurt, even my hair. My eyes will barely open, limiting my vision. Moving my head slightly to the right, the IV pole comes into focus. A cool rush up my arm, and within a few moments, the pain lessens. Inching my hand around on the bed, I search for the call button, and within a minute, the door opens.
“Mallory? Are you awake? Can you hear me?” Nodding my head, I try to speak, but my mouth feels as though it’s stuffed with cotton.
“Hold on just a second. Let me get you a little water. I’m sure your mouth is dry.” I can hear water being poured into a cup. She moves back toward me, into my line of sight. After taking a moment to focus, I realize it’s Abby, one of the nurses who floats to the ER sometimes.
“I’m going to move the bed up a little, so you won’t get strangled. It looks like you got a dose of morphine a few minutes ago, so hopefully the pain will be minimal.” The bed jerks into motion, and I stiffen against the oncoming pain as my head raises up. Even with the morphine, it hurts like a bitch. She moves the cup close to my mouth, and I try to raise my hand.
“Let me hold it, Mal. You’re weaker than you realize.” She places the straw in my mouth, and I suck the cool water down in small sips, relieving my parched throat. I don’t know if anything has ever tasted so good.
“How…” I pause to clear my throat, “how long have I been here?”
“Two days. You’ve been asleep most of the time. Your body needs to heal.”
“What’s wrong with me?”
“It may be easier to tell you what’s not wrong,” she says with a sad smile. “You have three broken ribs, but they’re all bruised badly. You have a concussion, but they didn’t see any hematoma on your CT scan. Your left ankle is badly sprained, which they have wrapped with splints. They wanted to make sure the internal bleeding from your liver laceration resolved without surgery. And it seems to have.”
“Has Donna been in?”
“She’s barely left. I made her go home a little while ago to shower, change, and get some real food. She should be back soon. I’ll call and let her know you’re awake.” She reaches for my hand and gives it a small, reassuring squeeze. “Just take it easy. Your pain medication is on a schedule to keep you comfortable. Call if you need anything.” She places the call button next to my hand.
“I will. Thanks, Abby.” She gives me a small smile and heads out of the room.
Waking up, the soft swish of the door draws my attention as Donna walks in. The relief I feel at seeing her rivals the morphine running through my veins.
“Hey, girl. I finally leave for a few minutes and you decide to wake up.” Her smile lights up her face. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I got the crap beat out of me.”
“Oh, Mallory. I’m so sorry. If we would’ve moved just a little quicker, this wouldn’t have happened.”
“It’s not your fault. You tried to get me to leave sooner. We can play the blame game all day, and it won’t get us anywhere. There’s only one person to blame for the state I’m in.” Reaching for her hand, I close mine around hers. “How long before I can blow this popsicle stand?”
“I’m not sure. Your injuries are pretty severe. We should wait for Dr. Matthews to check you over.” Before I can protest, she continues. “He knows what’s going on and what we were trying to do. We’ve kept it very quiet about you being here.” I close my eyes in relief that Todd may not know I’m here. For now, I am safe. A soft knock on the door draws our attention as Dr. Matthews comes in.
“Hello, Mallory. It’s good to see you awake. How are you feeling? Is the pain medication keeping you comfortable?” I nod my head. “Good. Do you remember anything that happened?”
“Todd came home early. He got mad when he realized I was leaving. The fury on his face was unlike anything I had seen before. I turned to run, but he was right there, grabbing my arm. I remember him spinning me around and shaking me. I couldn’t understand what he was yelling. Then, he was hitting me, and I woke up here.”
“Has anyone told you the extent of your injuries?”
“Abby gave me the rundown when she was in here earlier. My question is when I can get out of here?”
“I know you’re anxious to leave, and I understand. But you’re safe here. I don’t want to push your body too hard. But I do understand the urgency of you wanting to get out of here. If your bloodwork and everything comes back fine tomorrow, I think it will be safe for you to be moved. We can give some good pain medication for the plane ride. We booked tickets for tomorrow.” At my questioning look, he continues. “I booked you a ticket home, and Donna is going with you. I don’t feel comfortable with you traveling alone. We can cover for her for a while.”
Glancing over at Donna inquisitively, she gives my hand a squeeze. “I’m going to stay with you for a few weeks, until you’re moving around on your own. I’ll help you get settled into your new apartment. And I rescheduled your interview for a couple months. They can always use a great ER nurse like you. They won’t have any problems finding you a place in their rotation.”
I can’t help it, and I begin to cry. All the emotions I have been keeping under wraps come out. She moves to me and gently hugs me. I cry until the tears dry up. “Thank you so much. Both of you.”
By the time we arrive at the complex, I can barely breathe through the pain. Donna helps me out, but as soon as my feet touch the ground, I double over.
“Mallory, we have to go up the stairs. As soon as we make it up there, I’ll give you another pain pill and you can rest. We just need to make it up one flight of stairs,” Donna says encouragingly.
One flight. I can do this.
She herds me forward, and I shuffle along, each step sending a streak of pain through my body. We finally make it to the stairs, and they seem never ending. Glancing back down, I get myself together. It’s only eight steps. I can do this. A door opening from up above and footsteps moving toward to the stairs snags my attention. I keep my head averted so whoever it is can’t see my face. It’s not a pretty sight with my black eyes, busted nose, and swollen jaw. The heavy footsteps on each tread tells me it’s either a man or someone who is overweight.
“Afternoon, ladies,” a deep voice says. Freezing in my tracks, I recognize that voice, but I can’t place it. It sounds so familiar. His boots scrape across the concrete as he turns, then stops. “Y’all need some help?”
Jason. His voice always made me think of melted chocolate—rich and smooth. I sure don’t want him to see me this way. I hadn’t planned to let Kristen and Camryn know I was back until I healed up.
“I think we can make it. It’s just a few stairs. She was in a car accident and got pretty banged up,” Donna says patiently as she begins to ascend the stairs, the hand on the small of my back propelling me forward.
“Just moving in?”
“Yes. Luckily, we had everything delivered and set up earlier.”
“Oh, that means you’re in the apartment next to mine. The sup let the movers in yesterday. If y’all need anything, just holler. I’m in two-oh-four. Name’s Jason.”
I hear him move away and whisper softly to Donna, “I’m ready.” We take the steps one at a time, steadily. If I stop, I’ll never make it up. Finally, we hit the top of the stairs and I breathe a sigh of relief. My apartment is the first door on the right. Donna takes the key to unlock the door. When the door swings open, the first thing I see is a recliner. We make our way over to it and she helps ease me onto the soft cushion.
She disappears for a moment before handing me an ice cold can of Coca-Cola and another pain pill. She turns on the TV to Chopped. Watching TV for a little while before the pill kicks in, my eyelids get heavier and I drift off to sleep, finally feeling safe.