The Hurricane - Page 53/86

The doorbell rang and I heard my mum’s voice as she answered whoever was at the door. He pulled out of me sharply, and it hurt just as much as it did going in. He used my skirt to wipe the blood off his cock, before zipping himself up.

“Just remember to keep your fucking mouth shut,” he reminded me and punched me again. Five minutes too late, I got my wish, and everything went black.

I OPENED MY EYES and tried to scream when I felt a hard body next to me. Nothing came out because I couldn’t breathe. When I realised that it was O’Connell, I stopped trying to scream, but it didn’t help with my breathing. I was hyperventilating, and I didn’t know what to do about it. Searching around for my candles, I panicked when I remembered that they were all gone. My lungs were sucking in oxygen too quickly. I knew that I was going to pass out soon, when O’Connell lifted me onto his lap and wrapped himself around me. His Irish lilt soothed as he held me close and gently whispered, “breathe, baby. Just listen to me breathing in and out and do the same. I’m the scariest motherfucker you’ve ever met, and nothing is going to get to you without getting to me first.”

He did this for five minutes. Just reassuring me how brutal and bad he was and how he’d destroy anything and anyone who tried to hurt me again, and I believed him. As soon as my breathing was under control, I collapsed in his embrace with a sob.

“I’m so sorry,” I cried into his chest.

He wiped away my tears with his big hands and a sad smile.

“It was making love that triggered it, wasn’t it?” he asked, sadly.

“That, the fight, your mum. They’re all triggers, and I guess it just caught up with me.” He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t stop kissing or rocking me, either. His touch worked so much better than anything else had because everything that he said was right. He was the scariest person that I’d ever met, and there was no way that Frank would stand a chance against him. O’Connell loved me, but I knew that for him to really love me then he had to know all of me. That included my last deep, dark and dirty secret. If he still stayed after knowing the ugly truth, then I could finally believe that this was forever.

WITH A DEEP BREATH, I told my horrible ugly story, dreading the look of revulsion on his face I feared I’d see when I was done.

“What happened afterwards? How did you escape?” he asked quietly.

He was still stroking my hair, so I took comfort in that.

“It was the police at the door. A neighbour heard me screaming and called them. They told me they were suspicious when they saw the gouges on Frank’s cheek. They arrested him, and took me to the hospital. My face was banged up. He’d fractured my cheekbone, cracked two of my ribs, and tore me up so badly between my legs that I needed stitches. The hospital gave me STD tests and the morning after pill, but there was nothing else they could do except give me pain relief while I healed. I turned eighteen while I was still in hospital, so I was able to discharge myself without being turned over to social services. I already had an escape plan set up with one of my teachers, so I took it and never went back. I stayed with Mrs. Wallis recovering for a couple of months, then when my student loan came through I used enough to buy some cheap clothes and left for university.”

“Why didn’t you press charges?” he asked, but I couldn’t detect any rebuke in his voice.

“I gave the police my statement and told them truthfully what had happened, and they had the results of the rape kit with Frank’s DNA. I guess I didn’t trust the system anymore, though. If I stuck around, I knew he’d find a way out of the charges. Either that or he’d kill me first. I never told the police where I was going because I couldn’t risk him finding me. Frank was in the police force years ago, and he must still have connections. They took the university acceptance letter with her address on as evidence and apart from Mrs. Wallis, that’s the only thing tying me to this place. For the first couple of weeks, I was terrified that he’d memorised the address on the letter, but he never showed up at her house. Mrs. Wallis found out a little later that he’d been remanded in custody for a while, but she doesn’t know any more than that.”

“Do you still speak to her?” he asked.

“Not often, but she likes it that way. She thinks the less contact we have with each other, the less chance there is of Frank finding me.”

“Do you think he’s still looking for you?”

“If he’s free then I’m sure of it. Frank was obsessed with controlling me. If he can’t be free then there’s no way that he’d want me to be, either.”

“You can’t live the rest of your life waiting for that day to come, baby. Either you let me find him and take care of this, or we put it behind us, because if he ever does come here, I’m not the only one who’ll make him pay. I can’t live with you going through life afraid. I’d rather take care of him once and for all than have you scared.”

“I won’t let him hurt you, O’Connell. I’ll run first.”

“You promised me that you wouldn’t run again. Besides, there’s no place that you could go that I wouldn’t find you. You want to take care of me? Then don’t ever fucking leave me, even if you think it’s for my own good, because that will hurt me more than anything that happens in the ring.”

I nodded in agreement and rested my head back against his chest, exhausted.

“I hate these dreams. Everything in my life is going great but then I have these dreams and it’s like he’s reminding me that it’s all temporary and it will be all over when he finds me.”

“I don’t think that at all,” O’Connell told me. “Do you know what I think, sunshine? A person only has room inside them for so much. Last night was the best night of my life. Good stuff likes that takes up a fair bit of space in your head and your heart. So, this is just your body’s way of getting rid of all that poison to make room for the good stuff.”

I tilted my head and kissed his neck.

“I’ve never thought about it like that before. Thank you, baby.”

“Don’t get mad at me, but have you ever seen anyone about this stuff? You know, to talk about it? It might help you to work through everything.”

“You think I need fixing?” I whispered.

He detected the difference in my tone and turned my head to face him. “There ain’t nothing about you that’s broken and needs fixing. I just want you to see yourself the way I see you and maybe seeing a councillor about this stuff will help you to do that.”