The Hurricane (41 page)

I HAVE NO IDEA HOW LONG I was bound in that room. It could have been hours, it could have been days. I think I wet myself a couple of times, though I was so out of it I couldn’t really be sure. The whole room stank to high heaven so I probably fitted right in. Either Frank had drugged me or he’d hit me a LOT harder than I thought. I’d taken enough beatings to know that this didn’t feel normal. The periods between consciousness, though, were blissful. My mind ran hazily through memories of O’Connell and our time together. Before when I’d been beaten, I’d never had any of this. O’Connell had given me so many happy moments and a safe place in my mind to hide. He would never know how thankful I was for that. Frank could do whatever he wanted to my body, but he’d never be able to take that away. His increasing sense of desperation during the times I was awake told me that he knew it, too. When I next opened my eyes, beams of light shone through the moth ball holes in the curtains, and I figured it must be morning.

“I said wake up, bitch,” Franked shouted, kicking me hard with his boot in my thigh. I whimpered but opened my eyes to face him. If he stopped hitting me, I’d probably stop passing out. He paced up and down the room with his hands in his hair. Gone was the cool demeanour of a man unhurried, and in its place was a desperate, unhinged psychopath. I guessed that something happened to set him off. He was losing control again.

“Tell me you’re not going to leave again,” he told me, still pacing.

“I promise I won’t leave again,” I wheezed flatly and without meaning. Yep, that rib was definitely broken.

“I’ll fucking gut him if you do. You know that, right?” he asked, menacingly.

“I know,” I answered.

I wasn’t worried about O’Connell. He’d never get near the man I loved because I was putting a knife in Frank’s back the minute I got free. I didn’t care about going to prison. It was a price I’d happily pay to keep O’Connell safe.

“There isn’t enough time. I wanted more time than this,” Frank mumbled under his breath. I didn’t know what had upset him, but I was glad for it.

He sat back down next to me again and stared at my body. Without warning, he leant over and cupped me roughly between the legs and bit down hard on my bra covered nipple. It was so painful, and so invasive, that I cried out, which hurt my chest. I willed myself to pass out. If this sick fuck was going to rape me, then I didn’t want to remember a minute of it. Gripping my jaw roughly in his hand, he looked me straight in the eye.

“We’re finishing this when we get home,” he promised.

“FUCK. YOU,” I enunciated slowly.

Expecting another blow, it never came. He seemed a little less frantic, though. Maybe contemplating all the ways he was going to punish me later had calmed him down.

“You’ve changed,” he pointed out, before leaning over and whispering in my ear. “You have no idea how many different ways I’m going to break you until you learn to do what I say, when I say it.”

“If you think you’re turning me into my mother, you’ve got another thing coming, you sick fuck,” I wheezed but stood my ground.

If I were smart, I would have shut the fuck up. Instead, I paid for my stupidity. He didn’t hit or molest me again. He just laid his palm on my chest and pressed down. My broken rib screamed in protest.

“All you bitches are the same,” he taunted. “It’s just a case of learning how to tame you.”

I couldn’t focus on what he was saying. The pain was too excruciating to hold on anymore. With what little clarity I had left, I imagined that I was lying in O’Connell’s arms and closed my eyes. It was only as I hovered on the precipice of consciousness, that I could almost smell him and believe that he was really here.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Frank laughed, throwing water in my face. “You don’t get to pass out on me yet. We’ve got work to do before we blow this shit hole.”

Despair and pain made me want to sob, but I refused to give Frank that last victory.

“Even if I never make it out of here, you’re still going to prison. The police have my statement and the rape kit.”

If I died in this hell hole, my parting shot would be to remind him he was looking at a lifetime in prison. By this stage, I was pretty convinced that he was never going to let me live long enough to see O’Connell again, anyway, so I had nothing left to lose.

“I’m not going to prison, princess. All sorts of things can happen before a rape trial, and this country is all about innocent until proven guilty. You were just an out-of-control kid, and I am the upstanding member of society who did his best to father you through some troubled times.” He relayed his ridiculous story with maniacal grandeur, and I could do little more than grunt at him.

“And the rape? How’re you going to make that disappear?” I panted.

“Oh, you were raped all right...but by some boy you’d been hooking up with. Understandable, really, given the slutty way you were dressed when you left. You tried pinning it on me because you were pissed at my efforts to instil some discipline. At least that’s the account your mother gave to the police.”

“You should walk away, Frank. I’m not a minor anymore. I’m a married woman. Any power you had over me is long gone.”

I could tell from the look on his face that I was making a mistake. That didn’t stop me from doing it. Every time I mouthed back, or stood up for myself, I was wrestling a little more control away from Frank. The only way he knew to take it back was to punish me.

“So, you’d leave your mother to take your punishment, would you?” he sneered.

“My mother died the day she walked away and let you rape me.”

“You fucking bitch,” he roared, rearing up and kicking me in the thigh again. It bloody hurt but another hit in the torso would have knocked me out, maybe even killed me.

“It wasn’t rape. It was you being taught a lesson, and we both know you wanted it.”

“Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that,” I mumbled.

He lifted up the knife again and held it up to my face.

“Let me tell you how this is going to go. You and I are going to that stink hole of a gym you’ve been whoring yourself at. I’ve been watching it for days, and they haven’t opened it since you left. You’re going to clear out your stuff and leave a letter explaining that you were never cut out to live in such shitty circumstances. You’ll ask everyone to respect your wishes and leave you alone. When we get back, you’ll admit to the police that you cried wolf, and you’ll move back home.”

“If I don’t?” I taunted back.

The knife was right under my nose, and from the look in his eyes, I could see he was itching to use it.

“Then I’ll stick this in Cormac O’Connell then Danny Driscoll, and I’ll keep going until I find someone who makes you listen.”

That woke me up. I had no problem using the knife on Frank, but I couldn’t have him touching the people I had loved before I had a chance to do it.

“Okay,” I said quietly, trying to feign defeat. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Patience, princess. We’ll wait until this evening. Then we’re gone. I thought I’d have more time, but those little shits are relentless. I need to shut this down now and get you home.”

He’d be lucky if I was still conscious by then. I was in a pretty bad way, and I needed a hospital, not that he’d noticed. He seemed to keep himself busy for the rest of the day. Occasionally, I could hear him on the phone in another room, though I couldn’t make out what he was saying. From time to time, he brought me water. The first time, I was so parched I gulped it down thirstily. Then cried out in agony when it hit my stomach and I vomited violently. After that, I learned to sip it. The relief it brought was tempered by the pain I endured every time I swallowed.

As soon as Frank left the room, I allowed my delirious mind to drift back to O’Connell. I turned my face on the pillow, which was stained with my blood. I could see him lying next to me, grinning his cocky, panty-dropping grin.

“Hey, baby,” he said.

Silent tears ran down my cheeks as I answered him.

“You’re here,” I whispered.

“Never left, sunshine. I need you to do something, okay? This is really important.” His grin gone, he looked at me earnestly.

“You need to hold on. I know it hurts, but I’m coming for you. I just need you to hold on a little longer for me. Can you do that?”

“It hurts really bad,” I answered, through my tears.

“I know it does. Remember, I’ve taken a hit or too meself.” He paused to wipe away a tear with his thumb, sounding a little more Irish than usual.

“But you promised me you wouldn’t run again. You promised you’d stay and fight for me.”

“I don’t think this counts as running,” I answered.

“It does in my book. You die on me, and I’ll be fucking pissed. So, you stay and fight for me. Promise me.”

“I promise.” I smiled as I tried to reassure him.

I was absolutely petrified, but everything was better having him here with me. His face was the most beautiful face I’d ever seen, and it gave me a little bit of peace.

“You have pretty eyes,” I mumbled, randomly.

“Well, I promise to pass them to our kids. You just make sure you live long enough to give me some.”

“I’ll do my best,” I whispered.

“Good girl. Now sleep, baby. I’ll see you soon.”

Frank came for me when the sun had set. When I opened my eyes, that beautiful face was gone.

I PROTESTED WHEN FRANK RAISED MY SLEEVE, wrapped something around my arm and tapped for a vein.

“No. I don’t want it. Stop,” I groaned, but he was too strong, and I was still tied down.

“It’s just a little something to get you up and moving. It’s only a small dose. I don’t need a zombie. You still have a letter to write,” he told me, as the injection went in my arm. After about ten minutes, the pain had faded enough for me to stand when he cut my restraints. We shuffled out of the door, and I saw I’d been held in a basement flat. I could see why he’d warned me not to scream. Houses along the street were packed closely together. If I screamed long enough, chances were that someone would have heard me. The street was empty as he pushed me toward his car, the knife still threateningly at my back. I contemplated making my stand now, but I couldn’t risk him getting pissed and going after my boys. I just needed to keep my eyes out for a weapon and make a move when I saw an opportunity.

The drive to the gym was mercifully short, and it broke my heart to think about how close to O’Connell I’d been the whole time. Knowing my husband, he’d probably torn London apart looking for me. Frank double parked in the alley behind the gym. He blocked the other garages, but he wasn’t likely to get any bother at night. Most of the businesses around here were only open during the day. All the lights were out at Driscoll’s gym. Frank produced a set of keys, presumably swiped from my bag, and unlocked the back door that I never used because the alleyway was so creepy. The gym looked different in the dark, but the familiar smell felt like home. There was no time to reminisce, though. Frank was shoving me toward the office, knife in hand and he was in a hurry. When we got there, he turned on the desk lamp and pushed me roughly into the chair.

“Now, write this fucking thing, and let’s get out of here,” he ordered, slapping some paper and a pen down on the desk in front of me. I picked up the pen shakily and contemplated what to write. The dirt and dried blood on my hand left smears on the pristine white paper. I pressed the pen down when a noise from the gym had us both looking up. None of the lights went on, but a shuffling sound preceded the door opening and in walked Danny. I was devastated. There was no way that Frank would let Danny walk away from this. Danny took in the scene and spoke to me softly.

“All right there, sunshine. What’s happening here then?”

“Nothing much, Danny,” I answered softly, as I slowly stood. “Just catching up on some paperwork.”

Danny nodded, as though this was a perfectly reasonable explanation for what I was doing and the state that I was in. Frank’s gripped tightened painfully on my shoulder, but he let go when I stood.

“Haven’t seen you for a while. Why don’t you come over and give me a hug.”

I moved slowly, not looking anywhere but straight ahead.

“That’s enough, Emily. We won’t need the letter anymore.”

I turned around as Frank rushed toward us. He side stepped me and went for Danny. I stepped in front of him and raised my hands to push him away. Danny was the nearest thing I had to a dad, and there was no way that Frank was taking him from me.

“No!” Danny screamed. I stumbled and fell backwards onto the floor. Frank fell on top of me. As quickly as it happened, Frank muttered, “Fuck,” and staggered to his feet.

Shoving Danny hard, he ran out of the door. I couldn’t believe how fast he was, given the amount of blood he’d lost. It felt like I was bathed in it.

“You okay, Danny?” I asked.

“I’m fine, baby girl. How ‘bout yourself?”

“I’ve been better.” I chuckled, relieved beyond measure that Frank was gone and that Danny appeared to be unharmed.

“You just stay with me, darlin’. Con is on his way.”