Finding Abigail (16 page)

The banging lasted for about an hour.
During that time I emptied his dresser and packed his suitcases. After that I
sorted my own dresser and closet, cleaned under the bed, and when I ran out of
things to do, I realized that I really had to pee. So bad that I was afraid to
move.

Walking
carefully toward the door, I leaned my ear against it, listening for the TV. It
was off, and I could hear him snoring. I opened the door slowly, worrying it
might creak; thankfully, the only sound I made was my own breathing as I
tiptoed towards the bathroom.

Just as I was
about to push open the door, Nick rushed toward me, shoving me up against the
wall. My head cracked against the drywall, giving me an instant headache. His
rage-filled eyes seared mine as he hovered inches from my face. “Don’t ever
lock me out again. You belong to me and you will do as I say. You got that?” He
was holding my wrists against the wall like a vise grip. Even though he slapped
me earlier, I was still shocked at his behavior. How could I not have seen that
he was capable of this violence? It made me angry at myself for not noticing
the signs—and there were signs. But how could I know that this would happen? He
was so normal looking, and appeared to be sweet and caring. I should have
realized that appearances can be deceiving. Of course, I would know a monster
when I saw one, but my mistake was not realizing that monsters come in all
shapes and sizes.

I couldn’t
move, so I brought my knee up sharply, hitting him right in the crotch. When he
doubled over, I took off running to the bathroom. He caught my arm, dragging me
out. I clutched at the doorjamb, trying to slip out of his hold. He yanked me
harder and I lost my grip, my fingernails scraping into the wood. My stomach
was in knots as he shoved me into the bedroom. “I love it when you put up a
fight,” he whispered into my ear. His voice was raspy, out of breath, but I
could hear the excitement in his tone.

“Please, you’re
scaring me. Why are you doing this?” I wanted to struggle more, but his fingers
were digging into my arms. They felt like needles piercing my skin.

“Next time I
tell you to open the goddamn door, you’ll do it, won’t you?” As he walked me to
the bed, he noticed the suitcases. “What’s this? Am I going somewhere?” His
voice was cruel and taunting.

Fear sliced
through me, not replacing the anger; it was still there, but buried under the
panic that was now smothering me. “Nick, please calm down, so we can talk.”

He smirked at
me and pushed me down onto the bed. “Oh, I’ll talk, all right. You think you
can get rid of me after you accepted my ring.” He laid his body onto mine. “I
love you, baby. Let me show you.” Holding my wrists, he bent down and crushed
his lips to mine, shoving his tongue into my mouth. I bit it and turned my face
away, expecting to be hit again. Instead, he laughed. He shoved my pants down,
and then his. Pushing him away didn’t work, so I screamed, the fear now slicing
though my chest. He didn’t seem to hear me; his eyes were glazed with a mixture
of excitement and anger. I sobbed as he slid inside me.

Tears ran down
my cheeks as he lay sleeping, spent from emptying into me. The love I had for
him was replaced by fear and hate.

Help!

The next morning, I pretended to sleep
while he got dressed for work. I heard the zipper of his jeans and the ruffling
of material as he yanked on a shirt. The smell of my laundry soap hovered in
the air. I held my breath, waiting for him to leave. He didn’t.

He sat on the
edge of the bed beside me and laid his hand gently on my leg. The touch was
meant for comfort; coming from him it felt dirty. “I know you’re not sleeping,
sweetie. I’m sorry I got kind of rough last night, but I had some bad news. I
was in a really bad mood, and you shouldn’t have run from me.”

I sat up in
bed, gaping at him. “What bad news?”

He pulled his
hand back, resting it on his jean-clad knee. “The call I got last night was
about the case I’m working on. It turns out that the suspect got out on bail
and the district attorney says we don’t have enough to hold him. We’ve been
working on this case for months. I was pissed.”

I blinked at
him. A buzzing sound started in my head, I was so mad. “Let me see if I
understand. Because you were angry about your job, you hit me and then raped
me.” I tilted my head at him, trying to keep my voice even. “Did I get it
right?”

His eyes
flashed as he leaned forward. I leaned back, away from him. Fear sparked and
began to spread though me as the look in his eyes reminded me of last night
just before he slammed my head against the wall. My resolve started to crumble
“Oh, come on, how can I rape my fiancée? It’s like a wife. You’re obligated to
give it to me when I want it. And I wanted it last night.”

I stared at him
in sheer disbelief, my eyes so wide I thought they’d pop out of my head. “Who
are you?” I whispered, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck rise. How could
I have missed this in him? This was not the man I fell in love with. I couldn’t
be with him. Hopefully I could calmly explain my thoughts without causing a
scene. The Nick I knew had some sense in him. I couldn’t believe that it had
been all fake. “I’m sorry, but you’re not the person I thought you were. I
can’t marry you.” To make my point, I pulled off the ring and held my hand out.
The ring lay in the center of my palm.

His eyes
narrowed. “Honey, I don’t have time to argue. I’ll see you when I get home.”
Was it his tone or his words that made me feel like a disobedient child? Did he
not hear a word I said?

“No, you won’t.
I want you gone.” Despite my strong words, my voice shook with fright.

He stood up and
shrugged. “You said you would marry me. That’s a commitment that I’m going to
hold you to, no matter what it takes. I’m not going to let you ruin what we
have.” He took the ring that I was still holding and grabbed my wrist,
squeezing so hard I spread my fingers out. He shoved the ring on roughly, and
the band dug into my knuckle. “And remember, this wouldn’t have happened if you
hadn’t run from me. How was I supposed to act? I love you. All I wanted to do
was show you.” Then bending down, he kissed my forehead as if none of last
night ever happened.

If he thought
that I was just going to live with a man who thought he could beat me when he
was in a bad mood, he’d got some waking up to do. My parents, especially my
father, taught me to stand up for myself and to never let anybody hurt me. I
only hoped my father wasn’t watching me right now. It would kill him all over
again to see his daughter suffer the way I had last night.

Once I was
safely alone, I stood in front of the bathroom mirror and studied my face. My
right cheek was red but was starting to fade. My wrists, where he held me down,
were gray with a slight shade of purple. My upper arms were marked with tiny
bruises where he held me in the bedroom. These were black, the shape of his
fingers. And I also had a throbbing headache from when he slammed it against
the wall. I took pictures of my arms and wrists and then got dressed. After I
was ready, I grabbed my purse, pulled on my sunglasses to hide the redness, and
left my apartment to make sure this never happened again. My father would turn
over in his grave if I didn’t fight back.

“I’d like to
speak to Captain Hennessey, please,” I said to the officer at the front desk. I
was standing at the police station closest to my place, and it just happened to
be where Nick worked, but thankfully when I looked around I didn’t see him. The
only other station was on the other side of town, and who was the captain
there? Nick’s father. Even though Nick worked here, the captain wasn’t related
to him, and the few times we had met, he seemed like a good, fair man. And
right now, he was my only hope.

The room was a
buzz of activity, filled with police and civilians like myself. The phones rang
constantly, and voices carried throughout the room. It was loud and chaotic.
The officer hung up the phone then told me to go on in. He pointed to an office
at the end of a long hallway. I began making my way down the hall where he
pointed, feeling like I was about to vomit; my stomach was in knots.

I kept my head
down, hoping no one would notice me. I didn’t know many of Nick’s co-workers,
but I had met a few. As I gazed down at the floor, I counted sixty-eight tiles
before I reached the captain’s office. I knocked softly and then opened the
door when I heard his voice.

“Abby, how are
you?” the captain asked from behind a large, messy wooden desk. He was a kind
man that I had met a few times. He was balding, his cheeks were always rosy,
and his big belly reminded me of Santa Claus. He sat back in his swivel chair,
a steaming cup of coffee in his hand.

“Hi, Captain,”
I said nervously, avoiding his question. The air in here smelled of Old Spice
and coffee. I glanced around the room. The walls were covered with pictures of
the captain with different people. My stomach dropped when I saw one of him and
Nick’s father with their arms around each other, both of their faces wearing
wide grins.

“It’s Phil,
remember?”

I spun around
to face him, feeling guilty for some reason. “Right, Phil.” I took a seat
across from him in the cushioned chair, fiddling with my purse, suddenly very
nervous.

He watched me
fidget in my seat, as if he was looking for clues. “What can I do for you,
Abby?”

I pulled my
sunglasses off and by his blank expression, the redness had faded. But I wasn’t
finished. I unzipped my hoodie and pulled it off. I was wearing a tank top
underneath so my bruises were clearly visible.

His eyes
furrowed with concern. As he sat his coffee down on the desk, the liquid
sloshed inside the mug. He leaned forward. “What happened?” he gasped.

Before I could
say a word, a tear fell down my cheek. I swiped at it, hoping to hide it. I did
not want to cry. “Nick,” I finally managed to say.

His jaw
tightened, and he sat back in his chair. He picked up a pen and tapped it
against the desk. Taking a breath, he simply said, “Tell me.”

So I did. I
told him everything, and unfortunately, I wasn’t able to hold the tears in. I
whispered the part when Nick forced himself on me. When I finished I glanced at
him, waiting for him to react. He didn’t, he just sat there. The only movement
I could see was a vein on the side of his neck throb.

When he finally
did move it was to stand up. “Stay here, I’ll have someone bring you in a
beverage. I won’t be long.”

And then he was
gone, and I was left alone in the quiet office.

I sat there for about half an hour
twiddling my thumbs. The only noise in the office was his old-fashioned wall
clock that looked like it had been on the wall for about fifty years. An
officer would walk by occasionally and when they saw me, their eyes would widen
with interest, but no one dared to enter the captain’s office without his
permission.

I was about to nod off in my chair—my
eyelids kept closing and my head suddenly felt like it weighed a hundred
pounds—when the door opened. I sat up, startled.

The captain
moved slowly to his chair and sat down.

He sighed
heavily folding his hands in front of him. “He says you’re lying.”

My heart sank
and I closed my eyes while his words sank in. I should have known better. What
was I thinking coming here? Nick wasn’t going to admit it. I opened my eyes and
gazed at him, searching his face. But it was blank. He showed no emotion,
taking no sides. The only way I knew that he was actually feeling something was
his eyes; they were sad.

“Of course he
would say that, but how did he explain this?” I asked, pointing to my arms.

“He said you
had sex, and it got a little rough.”

Rage twisted
inside me.
That lying sack of shit!!!
“Are you serious? You’re not going
to do anything about this?” I cried, louder than I had intended.

His lips
pressed together, creating tiny worry lines at his eyes. “Look, I’m sorry.
There’s nothing I can do. I can’t ruin a man’s career without proof.”

“Proof? I told
you he did it, and I have the marks.”

“I’m sorry,” he
said again, and from his tone I could tell that he wouldn’t help me. I was on
my own.

I sat still,
waiting for something more, but that was all he would say. He just sat there
looking down at his desk. I felt lost, helpless. What was I supposed to do when
the people sworn to protect me refused to help? My eyes started to burn with
the threat of tears, and since I would not let anyone else see me cry, I stood
up. “Fine,” I yelled and rushed out of the room

Nick sat in an
office across the hall, and from the look on his face he wasn’t going to be
happy when he saw me next. I rushed out of the station before he could catch
me. I needed to protect myself, since no one else would. I was on my own. As
soon as he got home I knew he would make me pay for what I had done. I had seen
it in his eyes while he glared at me. There was only one thing I could do. RUN!