We both sit staring at each other for a few minutes. The only sounds I can hear are our harsh breathing and the birds chirping in the whistling trees above.
I’m just about to open my mouth to break the uncomfortable silence when Dean speaks, his voice hollow, filled with hurt and pain.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” He doesn’t give me a chance to answer. “Tell me. Tell me everything. I know it’s going to be hard for you, but you need to know that I’m here for you no matter what.
“I’ve worked on a few domestic violence cases and seen situations like this before. There’s nothing you can tell me that would make me see you any differently. I’d never judge you. The only person I’ll be judging is the fucking prick who did this to you. If your dad was still here, he would kill him, Lola. Fuck, I want to kill him,” he bites out.
“I’ve never told anyone before. I don’t think I can. You don’t understand how long I’ve let him do those things to me or what I let him get away with,” I state honestly, my voice shaky.
“You can do this, Lola. I can help you, but you have to help yourself first by getting it all out and letting someone in. You’re not on your own anymore.
“Remember when my granddad died and you told me that nothing could change what I’d seen or felt, but that telling someone would help set all of it free? It worked, and I know if you do the same thing, you’ll be free,” he tells me fiercely.
I remember when Dean’s granddad died. He’d been there with him when it happened. It had been hard for him seeing that, and he ended up pulling away from everyone but me. He wouldn’t talk to anyone about it, so I took him to our favourite spot at the meadow down by the lake one afternoon. I told him he needed to set it free, to tell if not me then the meadow everything he was feeling. I didn’t realise how much that helped him until now.
Looking back at him, I know I need to do this. My parents didn’t raise me like this; they raised me to be honest and upfront. But it’s harder to talk about than I thought it would be. The only thing that’s helping is the fact that Dean was always the person I went to when I needed to get something off my chest. Hell, even if I’d done something wrong I was upfront and honest about it to my parents, but talking about this? It’s different.
Knowing I have nothing left to lose at this point, I take a deep breath, preparing myself to reveal my hidden past, my living nightmare. But first, I need Dean to promise me something.
“First, you’ve got to promise that you won’t interrupt me until I’ve finished. I just… I need to get it all out. I need to do it before I chicken out.” My throat tightens again, almost painfully, as I gulp.
“I promise.”
“Oh, and one more thing. You can’t tell your mom or dad. I don’t want them treating me any differently or looking at me with pity.”
My eyes plead with him to agree when he doesn’t say anything. I begin to worry he can’t make that promise, but then he jerks his head in a tight nod. He might not be happy about keeping this to himself, but he’ll respect my wishes, for which I’m thankful.
“I met Rick at my grandpa’s law firm. He was different compared to all the other boys I knew. He took the time to get to know me, to pursue me, and I liked that. He didn’t give up on me when I had doubts about him being eight years older than me and when I finally did get over the age issue, we started dating. Not long after, I fell in love with him. Well, I thought it was love, anyway. Looking back, I think it had more to do with the fact I’d been lonely and I used him to fill that void inside me.
“Everything was perfect in the beginning. He was perfect. He never gave me any reasons to question who he was or what he was capable of. I never thought I should be scared of him. Why would I? I loved him, but I should have known something wasn’t right with him when we first broke up. It’s clear to me now, but back then,” I shake my head, willing my shaky voice to still.
“The first time we broke up―well, he broke up with me―was because I wouldn’t sleep with him. I’d been a virgin. I was scared of the unknown, and I guess a huge part of me wasn’t ready to give him something so sacred. He broke it off, telling me that I didn’t love him and if I believed we had any kind of future together then I’d just… do it.
“The week during the breakup was horrible. I missed him. I missed not having anyone to talk to or fill my time with. There was no one there to care if I had a bad day at uni or failed an exam, and it got to the point I would tell myself he made my life better. So I slept with him. He wasn’t gentle. He wasn’t loving. And he didn’t care that I wasn’t comfortable. I spent the whole time crying. I cried for days after too. Every time I would move the wrong way and feel the sharp sting between my legs, it was a reminder of how badly it hurt.”
I clench my thighs together as I remember the horrific experience. With a shaky voice, I continue, twiddling my fingers together.
“He used the same manipulation to get me to move in with him. It was always the same kind of manipulation, and it wasn’t long after moving in together that he started getting possessive, not letting me out. He isolated me from everything.”
I take a deep breath, thinking of everything I missed out on because of him. I glance over to Dean, trying to gauge his reaction, but his expression is blank. The only way I can tell he’s affected is from his clenched jaw.
Giving me a tight nod, he signals for me to carry on. My throat dries up, my body tense.
“After that, the possessiveness and controlling got worse, much worse. Like one time, when I was on placement at the editing company the university assigned me to, and the boss invited us to a last-minute celebratory dinner and drinks. We had just landed a major client, so I was really excited about being asked to go and celebrate. I went, fully intending to text Rick, but I left my phone at the office. It turned out that Rick called, and my archenemy at the company answered the phone.
“You have to understand, it was rare for our boss to even pick female placements, let alone work alongside them. It was an honour and I didn’t want to ruin that by telling him no, that my boyfriend wouldn’t like it. This other girl on placement didn’t like that she was with all the other students, so when Rick called she made sure to stir the pot. From what Rick told me after, she had basically convinced him I was cheating on him. She told him it wasn’t the first ‘dinner date’ I’d gone on with our boss.
“We were finishing our dessert when he showed up. God, Dean, he was so mad. Sam, another student on placement, got in the middle of us when Rick grabbed me and everything went from bad to worse. Rick punched him, and when my boss got involved, Rick just went wild. He hit him too, screaming and accusing him of taking advantage of me. I remember screaming, begging for Rick to stop, but he wouldn’t listen. He got us out of there before the cops were called.
“That night, not only did I lose my placement but I also lost everything else that made me who I was. It was the first time he hit me. God, it had been the worst night of my life, but when he woke up, he was different. He was like the old Rick, the one I first met. He kept saying he was sorry over and over and that he’d never do it again. There were so many excuses for why he got so angry, so many tears, and I couldn’t take it, so I forgave him.
“After that, it was a vicious circle―the beatings, the controlling, everything. But… but it was when he used sex to punish me that would break me.” I start crying, my throat raw when I reveal the hardest part of everything that Rick did to me. “He would tell me over and over that I was his, that no one would want me and that I needed to be taught a lesson. He’d scream at me to stop being such a dirty whore.
“I’m so scared, Dean. So fucking scared. I’m scared of the constant fear of bumping into him. I hate I was weak. I was so weak I wished that the next time he hit me, he’d do it just right so he’d kill me. I just wanted all the pain to stop.”
My chest heaves with weighty sobs and Dean sits next to me, pulling me into his arms. Leaning my head against his chest, I can hear his heart beating erratically. I lean into him, crying for everything I lost, for the person I once was before I met him.
“It’s okay, Lola, I’ve got you. I’ll never let him hurt you ever again,” he promises, holding me a little tighter. “Does this Rick know about this place, about us?” he asks. I look up to find his eyes shadowed, darkening with anger, and although I’d usually be scared, I know his anger isn’t directed at me.
“Unless he followed me here, he wouldn’t know where I am. The first half of the drive was a blur. Plus, I never spoke about this place to anyone, not even my grandpa.”
“How did you get away? How didn’t anyone know what he was doing and report him?”
I know he isn’t asking because he doesn’t believe, but because he’s trying to understand how Rick got away with it for so long.
“You really want to know?” Tears build in my eyes as I recall the night I left. Out of everything he did to punish me, that night was by far the worst.
“I don’t want to push you into telling me anything you don’t want to. I can tell you’re holding back and what you’ve said isn’t the worst he’s done to you, but please, don’t hesitate to tell me anything. I’m only asking because I want to be prepared. If he ever turns up, I want to know everything I can about him. God, I want to go find him now and give him a taste of his own medicine,” he growls.
My head snaps up, my eyes widening. “You cannot be serious? He’ll kill you. Like not breathing kill you. He’s gotten away with this for years, Dean. You don’t understand.” I close my eyes, breathing through the panic.
“Then explain that to me, Lo,” he begs. “Explain how he got away with it.”
“He has friends in high places,” I shrug, wishing I could explain just how high. “The first time he raped me, I reported him to the police. They took me out back for questioning while they arrested him, and it was the most humiliating experience of my life. He wasn’t with them for ten minutes before they were bringing him into the room they were holding me in, like I was the criminal. He told them I liked it rough and that I tend to get carried away with the whole rape fantasy,” I bite out, remembering the lingering stare from the one officer, clear lust in his eyes. “I couldn’t afford to go to the police again after that. What he did to me after… God, it was horrible, and I’d have done anything not to go through that again.”
“I’m so fucking sorry this has happened to you. I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through. But I think you need to go to the police,” he says, and before I can open my mouth in protest, he holds his hand up, stopping me. “Just listen to me. I might not be a cop anymore, but it doesn’t mean I don’t know the right people. Good people. I could get someone I trust, someone not willing to be influenced, to take the case.” His voice softens, his eyes pleading with me to listen to him.
“I don’t know if I can talk about this to someone else,” I whisper, fiddling with the edge of my top.
“So start with me. Tell me what made you leave.”
“He came in late from work, drunk. I’d tried waiting up to have dinner with him, but it got too late, and I was already so tired, so I went to bed. I didn’t hear him come back or walk up the stairs. I remember jumping up in bed, startled from the door slamming against the wall. When I realised it was him, I panicked. I knew it was going to be bad, but before I could ask what was wrong or tell him I was sorry, he threw his cold dinner at me. The plate smashed against my head,” I tell him quietly, running my fingers along the scar on my forehead as visions of what happened play in front of my eyes. “I couldn’t see with the blood running into my eyes, but I could hear him. He was shouting so loudly it was piercing my eardrums. I couldn’t make out what he said because the buzzing in my ears and my blurred vision made it hard to concentrate.
“He hated being ignored so when I didn’t answer the question I didn’t even hear, he swung at me, hitting the side of my head once, maybe twice before dragging me off the bed by my hair. I could feel it being pulled out, the pain becoming too much for me to handle. I was in such a state I didn’t get a chance to block the worst of the blows like I normally did when he got mad. He kicked me repeatedly in the ribs until he tired out. But he just decided on a better punishment,” I choke out, not wanting to tell him the next part.
Dean, for the most part, hasn’t said anything, but I can feel the anger rolling off him. I know it must be taking everything inside him to keep himself in check.
“He… he… he…. Fuck, I couldn’t stop him,” I shout, my voice hoarse. “I tried everything to stop him. I begged and pleaded, but he didn’t care. He threw me across the bed, and I landed on my stomach. He ripped my knickers down my legs and all I remember is hearing his belt unbuckle. I tried everything, everything for him to stop, but no matter how hard I tried to kick him away or crawl across the bed, it was no use. He was too strong.
“The first hit from his belt knocked the wind out of me. The pain was excruciating, the worst I’ve ever experienced. The second hit hurt the most. I remember wishing he’d just kill me, but I passed out before I could beg him.
“I woke up to him taking me from behind. I couldn’t even tell you which hurt the most, him hitting me with his belt or him taking me there.” I sob, my heart squeezing painfully. “All the other times he raped me he never went that far. I don’t remember much, just the pain because I kept coming in and out of consciousness. It was only when he finished that I finally managed to move off the bed and into the bathroom.
“I couldn’t go to the police, I couldn’t go to Grandpa, and I knew I couldn’t stay. I cleaned myself up and I left. I’d been planning it for months since none of my other attempts of leaving him were successful. I knew if I was to succeed I needed to be smart.
“I left him on the sofa passed out and didn’t look back. I got in my car and made it as far as I could before exhaustion overtook me. The following days were bad. I couldn’t drive for more than an hour before I needed to rest, the pain too much for me to handle. When I got halfway, I knew I needed to go to the hospital, so I checked in under a girl’s name I went to school with. The doctor tried to get me to stay and report what happened, but I knew if I did he’d find me. She gave up and discharged me, giving me some leaflets that had helpline numbers. After a few more stops I ended up here. I won’t risk doing anything for him to find me.” My whole body sags with exhaustion as I cry into my hands. I can’t even look at Dean, not wanting to see his reaction. If I see disgust in his eyes, I don’t know what I’ll do. He hasn’t spoken a word yet; hell, I don’t think he’s taken a breath since I finished telling him everything that happened. I can’t help the broken sob that falls from my lips.
“I’m going to kill that fucking son of a bitch!” he roars suddenly before standing up in the boat, causing it to rock from side to side.
I jump up, startled and scared, gasping when I take in Dean’s murderous expression. His eyes are full of tears, his jaw clenched, his face pinched with pain and sorrow.
But before I can comfort him, the realisation of what he’s said hits me, and I panic. “No, Dean, no! He’ll find me! He can’t find me, Dean. I came here to be safe. Please don’t take that away from me. Please, I can’t go back there. I won’t. I’d rather kill myself than endure another second with him. You hear me? I can’t go back there. I can’t! I can’t, I can’t, I can’t,” I chant, falling back down on the seat. My whole body trembles as painful sobs escape, causing my chest to tighten.
I hear Dean move before I feel his presence in front of me. I look up through watery eyes, pleading with him not to do anything, as hard as it may be for him. His eyes are red and glassy. I’m unsure of what he’s going to do, but when he pulls me to his chest, I fall into his arms easily, sobbing uncontrollably. I didn’t know how much I needed to be held until this moment.
He rubs my back soothingly, kissing the top of my head. “I will keep you safe, Lola. It’s okay. Everything is okay. Shush, baby. I promise nobody is going to hurt you,” he coos, rocking me from side to side. “I’ve missed you so damn much it hurt, but the notion that you were living a good life was the only thing that helped the pain go away. Knowing you were going through this? It fucking kills me, Lola. It really fucking pains me. You didn’t deserve that life, no one does, and I promise you until my dying breath that he will never hurt you again. No one fucking will. I’d die making sure of it.”