Chapter 12
As I knew it would, sleep eludes me. I lie in Mychal's arms replaying the evening, wishing it would have played out differently.
What if I would have taken Kenzie to the restroom with me? What if I'd have just ignored Tara and gone back to the table? Why didn't I fight harder?
I know that all the what ifs and whys mean nothing. I cannot erase what happened. So, I lie here alternating between attempting to sleep and trying to hold back the tears, not wanting to wake Mychal.
His hands are swollen and split at the knuckles from fighting. I know it is my fault and I feel terrible. I should have stayed inside and none of this would have happened.
What is going to happen now? Surely, they aren’t going to charge Mychal for the fight, they would have done that tonight, right? Will Drake go to jail? If he does, will he come after me when he gets out? I need answers for all of these questions I am too afraid to ask out loud.
Hours have passed. My body is exhausted; my mind refuses to shut down.
Mychal begins to stir around six in the morning. “You're awake.” He says groggily. “Have you slept at all?” I shake my head in response. He holds me tightly while rubbing my back. I wince, and he pulls back. “I'm sorry.”
“No, don't be. I'm fine.”
“You haven't slept, it hurts when I rub your back. Baby, you’re not fine. Talk to me.”
I sigh. “Let's talk. We can talk about anything you want... as long as it's not last night.”
He looks hurt. “Please, don't shut me out.”
“What? No, I'm not shutting you out... I just can't... I don't want to talk about last night anymore. I'd like to forget about it.”
He hesitates, taking a moment to collect his thoughts before speaking. “Piper, you can't make it go away. I wish we could, but we can't. Maybe if you talk about it... get it all out... maybe you'd be able to get some sleep.”
“Why can't you just let it go?” I snap on the verge of tears. I am out of the bed and in the bathroom before he realizes what is going on. The very little contents that were left in my stomach are now in the toilet as I continue to dry heave.
The stress of everything, the memory of Drake's hands on me... his mouth... it is repulsive and more than I can take in my weakened state.
I hear a soft knock on the door just before it opens. Mychal is by my side in an instant. “Baby, I'm sorry. I wish there was something I could do.” His voice is shaky.
“There's nothing you can do, there's nothing anyone can do.” I cry. “I just have to deal with this. I need to learn how to shut down the memory, forget about it, so I can move on.”
He shakes his head. “Baby, I understand, and I am here when you are ready.” I say nothing; I sit on the cool tile of the bathroom floor while he holds me. Wondering when this nightmare will end.
We sit there until I can take it no longer. “I think I will take a hot shower.”
“Whatever you need. I will go check my work emails. Yell if you need me.” He kisses me softly on the forehead before standing to help me off the floor.
I wait until I hear the click of the door closing before turning the water as hot as I can stand it and undressing. As I turn, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and I freeze. There are bruises everywhere. I don’t own enough makeup to cover the ones on my face; not to mention it would do nothing for the scrapes, cuts, or swelling.
The bastard did a number on me for sure. I have bruises on my jaw from his fingertips, on my neck...from his hands and his mouth. My arms have cuts from being forced against the rough brick building while I fought. The cuts nearly masking the bruises. I continue inspecting myself in the reflection, not wanting them to be my reality. As I look at my chest, I see the marks left behind by his rough hands. My stomach turns as I remember his touch and that he was getting off on hurting me. When I see the bruising below my belly, either from him attempting to undo my belt or from forcing his hand into my shorts, it is too much to bare. I am repulsed. My body once again tries to rid itself of the vile memories through violent dry heaving over the toilet... but I have nothing left in me.
I stand in the shower allowing its hot stream to flow over me until it turns cold. I spend the time lost in thought. I make a mental note to email my boss later, needing to ask for at least a week of personal time and explain why with as little detail as possible. I really don’t want to go in looking like this; I see enough pity every time Mychal, Kenzie and Tyler look at me. I cannot take it from anyone else.
Then there is the question, do I even want to go back to work there? Knowing I will be sitting a cubicle away from the vindictive bitch that set me up. I still do not know or understand her full involvement in the situation.
After brushing my teeth and hair, I throw on another pair of sweats with one of Mychal's long-sleeved shirts wanting to hide the marks. I crawl back into bed still not wanting to face the world.
I’m running, running fast, but not fast enough. It only takes a moment for his long strides to catch up with me. Grabbing me, he easily tosses me against the building. I fight but it is all in vain. He is too strong.
It is dark.
The alley he has chased me into smells putrid.
He forces his tongue into my mouth and I seize the opportunity, biting it.
“You bitch! You won't get away this time! He can't protect you!” he yells as he strikes me. I scream, but there is no one to hear me. He slides his hand between my legs.
“Stop! Please stop!”
“Piper! Piper, Baby! Please, wake up!” Mychal's voice jolts me. I feel my entire body trembling with fear as I attempt to free myself. “Baby, please stop. It's just me. It's only me.”
His arms close around me and I can hear the strain in his voice. Collapsing against him, I hold on as tightly as I can, needing him. Needing to erase Drake’s touch from my mind, with his.
“Baby, you scared the hell out of me.” He says still holding me. I came in to check on you and you were finally sleeping so I wanted to be sure not to disturb you. I was in the living room doing some work on my laptop, and you started screaming. I'm so sorry. I wish I could make this all go away.”
I have no words. It was last night all over again. Fear runs deep within my veins.
“I need to help you, but I can't do that if you won't talk to me.” He says. It is only sincerity I hear, but I can’t bring myself to unleash my torment on him.
“Mychal, I told you, I don't want to talk about it. I can't. It's just... It's just too much.” I say quietly still holding tightly to him, afraid to let go.
“You’re not sleeping, you’re having nightmares, you’re getting sick… Piper, that’s not good. Maybe you should consider opening up to Kenzie or your doctor; maybe it would be easier to talk to a female.”
“I can't talk to you, so you expect me to talk to my shrink?” I’m snippy, and I know I shouldn't be.
“Baby, please, I’m only trying to help.”
“Fine! You want me to talk? What exactly am I supposed to tell you, Mychal?” I jerk away from him and off the bed. I start to pace. He is staring at me with sadness on his face. “Do you want all the details? Do you want me to tell you everything he did? Tried to do? Everything he said? Is that what you want?” I say with tears streaming down my face.
“Piper, please...”
“No.” I cut him off. “You want me to talk, fine. I have a million things going through my head. I’m still trying to put all the ‘whys’ together. Why me? What did I do to deserve this? Why didn't I just ignore Tara and go back to the table? Why didn't I fight harder? I should have been able to get the drunk asshole off me! Why, and how the hell does Tara even fit into the equation? Huh? Have you fucked her? I mean, you gave me the impression you didn't know her... but she seems to know you. Drake said you always share women, that it was just his turn to have me, that you were just there to break me in and it was only a matter of time before you passed me off to him anyway. Drake is also the one that put Tara up to giving me those pictures.”
He is still looking at me with a look of confusion when he gets off the bed and comes to me.
“Piper? What are you talking about? What pictures?”
“Where's my purse?” I ask.
“I think we left it out in the living room.” He tells me, and I run out there.
With a heaviness in my heart I seek out my purse for the pictures that have caused me so much misery. I go back to find Mychal now seated at the foot of the bed with his face buried in his hands. Showing him these pictures is the last thing I want to do.
With a sigh, I hold the envelope out to him and say with pain clear in my voice, “Here.” He looks up and hesitantly takes the envelope. Opening it I watch the emotions play across his face; the sadness turning to shock and then anger.
“Piper... Baby, I'm sorry.” He stands running his hands through his hair in frustration. “I hate that you had to see these, I hate that my past causes your pain. I swear to you, none of that shit meant anything; none of them meant anything.” He pauses, and I watch a tear escape his eye before he continues. “I swear to you, I did not have sex with Tara. I had no idea who she even was until I met her at your office. I’ve never hidden anything, or lied to you about my past, you have to believe me.” He continues, even though I cannot look at him as he speaks. “You and I... we’re different; nothing could ever compare to what we have. My love for you... it runs so deep within me, you own my soul. I meant it when I said I won't lie to you. My past is my past... you are my future, but without you, I have no future. The moment you said you would be with me... everyone else ceased to exist. I don't look at other women that way anymore... how could I when you are all I think about, all I want.”
He is right in front of me now. He runs his strong hands up and down my arms as I look up into his eyes that are so full of emotion; they are bright with tears.
“Mychal...” I breathe out as I reach a soothing hand to his cheek.
Leaning into the touch he stops me, “Please, let me finish. I need to get this out. Baby, with you it's as if my entire world shifted off its axis. I'm a better man because of you. You are the first thing I think about when I wake, you are the last thing I think about before drifting off to sleep and you occupy most of my thoughts throughout the day. I can't change the things I've done... even though you make me wish I could. Please, don't ever think I want to go back to that lifestyle. What we have is amazing. Everything previous doesn’t even compare. I will NEVER put you in that situation. The thought of anyone else touching you fills me with rage.” He closes his eyes and shakes his head as if to shake the thought out of it. “I wanted to kill that bastard for putting his hands on you... I still do. I would have, if Tyler hadn't fucking pulled me off of him. I still owe him an ass kicking for that one.”
I see the anger resurface in his eyes. “He was trying to protect you. An assault charge is one thing... but if you'd have kept going...” It's my turn to shake the thoughts from my head. I don’t want to imagine what could have happened to Mychal if Drake had not survived.
“I don't give a damn what would have happened to me! I'm supposed to protect you! But thanks to me and my past that bastard thought it was ok to put his hands on you! He wanted to fucking rape you, and it's my fault! He wanted you to believe this is the path I was leading you too anyway! That's why the fucking photos. I don't know what Tara's involvement in all of this is, but I will find out. That bitch will pay too! Fucking with me is one thing... but I will not let anyone hurt you again!”
His anger is back full force as he glares out the window. I need to bring him back to me. “Mychal...” I softly say as I place my hands on his upper arms, leaning in to kiss his shoulder. “Please.” I cry. “I know that you love me, but I'm not worth you going to prison.”
He turns with what looks to be a cross between anger, sadness, and confusion on his face. “What? You are everything. How can you think you aren't worth my very life? I would die for you, prison wouldn't be shit, if it meant getting justice for you.”
“No, because that would be him getting his way in the end. He'd succeed at getting you away from me. You call it getting justice for me... but in the end, it would be my demise. I can't live without you.”
In the blink of an eye he has me in his arms. We hold each other, not speaking. There is nothing else either of us can say as we take comfort in each other’s presence.
When he kisses my neck, I close my eyes... savoring the feel of his mouth against me. “I love you, Mychal.” I whisper.
“I love you, too.” He says just before covering my mouth with his. The kiss is tender, sweet... just what I need. Mychal understands my needs, and knows my body just as well, if not better than I do. So, when he tries taking things a little further and I tense, ever so slightly, it’s enough for him to notice and he pulls back.
“I’m sorry. I want to but…” my voice is shaky.
“Hey, no, it’s fine. It’s too soon. I’m the one that should be sorry.” Regret is clear in his voice.
“I don’t want to pull away from you. I know it’s you, it’s only the two of us here. It’s just…” I do not finish my sentence, not wanting to tell Mychal that I cannot bear the thought of him seeing my body. Not wanting him to feel more guilt over the bruises because I know he will.
“It’s just what?” He asks.
I shake my head, casting my eyes down; hoping he will not see the pain in them.
“Piper, you need to talk to me. What is it that has you pulling away from me if it isn’t because it’s too soon?” He says lifting my chin so I am looking at him.
With fresh tears threatening to fall, I give him my truth. “I don’t want you to see my body… not the way it looks right now.” Realization strikes him, it is written all over his face. All the emotions he is trying so hard to hold back… pain, sadness, regret, anger… they are all there. “I’m sorry.” I repeat.
Now, it’s him shaking his head. “No, please stop apologizing. I want to see. I may not be able to change what happened or make it all go away… but I am here for you. Believe me, Baby… your pain is my pain. It may be a different kind of pain, but I feel it… right here.” He says placing my hand over his heart. “This shit hurts. It kills me that I can’t make this better for you.”
“I’ve seen these.” He says just before taking the time to lightly brush his lips over every one of the bruises and scrapes on my face. “And these.” He continues, getting each mark along my jaw and those on my neck. He pauses, waiting to see if I will let him continue. When I don’t ask him to stop, he pushes aside the collar of his shirt I’m wearing to kiss the marks on my collarbone and shoulder.
Much to my relief, instead of continuing down to my chest, he reaches for my hand pushing the sleeve up, so he can see most of my forearm. He gently rubs his thumb over the scrapes before retracing the path with his soothing lips. Once satisfied that he has covered each one, he replaces the sleeve and repeats the same motions with my other hand and arm.
His eyes are locked with mine as he reaches for the shirt’s top button. I tense, but I don’t stop him. My heart is racing. I want to protect him from torturing himself with anymore self-blame. I know none of this is his fault, regardless of his past, but I also know he does not feel the same.
Taking a deep breath, I nod, allowing him to proceed. He waits until the entire shirt is unbuttoned before parting it and pushing it back on my shoulders.
I see more than hear his sharp intake of breath. It was mostly dark in the room last night as he helped me change clothes; I know he is just now getting the full view. His jaw is locked, and seeing the tears he was trying so desperately to hold back is more than I can bare.
I try to cover myself; he shakes his head taking my hands and easing them back to my sides. At first, he just takes it all in, much like I did when I saw myself in the mirror. Then, he tentatively reaches his hand out, gently running his fingers across the bruises on my chest. When he leans in to place his loving kisses over them, I feel the tears fall against my skin. I cannot take it any longer. With my hands running through his hair, I hold him against me. He wraps his arms around me, holding me as tightly as he can without putting pressure on me.
A moment later, he pulls back. I think he has just noticed the bruising on my waist, leading down below where his sweat pants hang on my hips. He runs his hand gently over my stomach, over the marks, stopping at the waistband. “I had hoped I was wrong… about what I saw when I came out that door last night, but I guess I wasn’t. I should have been out there sooner.”
“No. I. Will. Not. Let. You. Blame. Yourself. For. ANY. Of. This.” I say through gritted teeth. “Mychal, we had no idea he was there. Furthermore, we would never have known he would try something like this. Besides, YOU stopped him from finishing what he started.” I pull away and begin to re-button the shirt. He has seen enough. Not much is different beneath my pants.
“Now, you’ve seen me, I refuse to let you blame yourself, just as you don’t want me blaming myself. So, can we please just go out in the living room and watch a movie or something? At least for a little while try to forget this whole mess? This shit sucks, but it is what it is. No matter how badly we wish we could change it, we can’t.”
I am about to break. The last 24 hours have been too much, and I just want to forget… even if just for a little while.