Broken, p.16
Broken, page 16
“Don’t panic,” I tell Paul.
“How can I not panic?” he almost yells. “I have no freaking idea where my kid is.”
I have a way to find out, but it’s not ideal. Kayleigh taking off is probably something or nothing. She is a teenager after all. Paul is freaking though, possibly overreacting, and it’s making me suspicious.
“Is there something going on?” I ask him, and although he acts put out, his eyes tell a different story. “Paul?”
I flash back to the phone call Damien received at Dave’s when I mistook him for a possible parent, and I’m now wondering if it was Paul on the other end of that line.
“Kayleigh’s not been herself lately,” Paul says. “Locking herself in her room. Not talking. I’ve tried to get to the bottom of it, but she won’t talk to me. She even skived school a few weeks back. That’s why I got you to help with the school thing. I was hoping someone other than me that loves music the way she does would perk her up, and it did, so it’s got to be school-related.”
“Bullying?” Raif asks, and Paul nods.
“That’s what I’ve been thinking,” Paul admits. “I wanted to throw the birthday party to show her she has plenty of people who care about her, that she isn’t alone.” He sighs. “But what if it’s more than bullying? What if…”
“She’s depressed?” I finish his sentence, and the desperation in his eyes is all the confirmation I need.
Okay, extreme measures it is. First, I need privacy. The last thing I want is twenty questions. Do I think an interrogation will materialise as soon as the drama is over? Hell yeah, but I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.
“Let me make a call,” I tell the group.
“How will that help?” Paul asks.
“Just trust me and don’t ask questions,” I plead.
Jess and Raif eye me with curiosity, but neither protest. With a quick nod from Paul, I turn on my heel and head outside, leaving the noise and prying ears behind. Ignoring the message I didn’t know I had from Damien, I scroll through my contacts and hold my phone up to my ear as it rings.
“Dani?”
“Hey, Ray,” I say.
“What’s wrong?” he doesn’t hesitate in asking, the concern evident in his voice. Ray and I ring each every few months to check in, but since I’m ringing unscheduled, I don’t blame him for worrying.
“Nothing,” I reassure him. “But I do need a favour.”
“What kind of favour?”
“A friend of mine’s kid has disappeared,” I explain. “She’s suffering from depression, and her dad’s worried she’s going to do something stupid. I know I’m taking the piss by asking, but she’s a kid…”
“What’s her number?” Ray obliges without argument, and after a quick scroll through my phone, I reel off the number Kayleigh gave me yesterday. “I see you’re keeping yourself out of trouble.”
Ray’s tone reeks of sarcasm, and I chuff in response. “Trouble follows me around.”
“But you’re okay?” That’s genuine unease.
“Yeah, course,” I reassure a second time. “I’m doing exactly what you told me to and building a support network of friends.”
“Good.”
“Yeah, until my friend’s problems become my problems,” I say, sighing.
“Just be glad you got me to help,” he teases.
“What would I do without you?”
It sounds like humour, but it’s not. Without Ray, I don’t know where I would be. I didn’t even remember who he was the day he walked into the hospital, but that didn’t stop him from taking care of me and trying to keep me safe. He’s a good man, and the only person from my past life who knows how to contact me. I owe him, and his wife for that matter, more than I could ever repay.
“How are things –” Adrian flashes before my eyes.
“Nothing to worry about here,” Ray cuts me off. “You’d be the first person I’d call if there was.”
I wait patiently until Ray tells me Kayleigh’s location within the nearest kilometre. I thank him profusely before hanging up and racing inside to grab Paul. Jess and Raif move to come with us, but Paul politely asks them to hang back in case Kayleigh returns, and they reluctantly agree. Paul and I jump into my car, and I drive off.
We arrive at Gulliver’s Park and start to scour the area. My heart stops. Kayleigh’s standing on the edge of the tall bridge that runs over the park. I tap Paul on the shoulder. The two of us leg it as fast as we can in her direction. Paul arrives first, but I hear a “don’t” come from Kayleigh’s mouth. Paul stops in his tracks a few metres away, allowing me the chance to catch up.
“Don’t come near me,” Kayleigh says, sobbing.
“Kayleigh,” Paul says. “What the hell are you doing? Come down, yeah? Let’s talk about this.”
“I don’t want to talk!” she screams. “I just want it to end.”
“Want what to end?” Paul asks.
“Everything,” she says a little too calmly.
“Don’t be stupid,” Paul yells. “Get down from there now!”
I grab Paul’s arm, shaking my head. That’s not the way to get through to her, and although he frees himself from my grip, he stays quiet.
“You can’t talk me out of this,” she argues, and I instinctively hold my hands up in a don’t-shoot fashion. “You don’t understand.”
“What don’t we understand?” I ask.
“He took everything from me,” she sobs. A boy. Of course it’s a boy. There’s always a bloody boy.
“You’re gonna throw yourself off a bridge because of a boy?” Paul scoffs, and I have never wanted to hit someone so badly for being so insensitive. “You know what. Screw this…”
Paul starts to walk closer to Kayleigh, but when she screams “No!” at the top of her lungs, I grab his arm again.
“Paul,” I scold, gaining me a grunt of exasperation as he snaps his arm from my grip.
“I’m not having it,” Paul snaps at me. “I’m dragging her off that bridge.”
“I’ll jump first,” Kayleigh says.
Paul’s expression instantly transforms from angry to heartbroken. “But why?” he pleads for an answer. “What the hell did this kid do that’s worth killing yourself for?”
“He raped me,” Kayleigh screams.
Holy shit. My entire body has just turned to stone. The flashbacks surface, but I shake them away as best I can, forcing myself to look at Paul. His fists are already clenched, and he’s got a murderous look in his eye. There might as well be steam coming from his ears, not that I blame him in the slightest. I have no doubt the rage is a mask to hide his pain.
“I begged him to stop,” Kayleigh says, but I think it’s more to herself than anyone else. “But he was too strong. I couldn’t… I froze.” Kayleigh shakes her head as if she’s trying to shake the image from her mind. “I can’t forget. I can’t.”
“Come down from the bridge, Kayleigh,” Paul says. “Tell me who the hell did that to you, and I’ll bloody well throw him over instead.”
“That won’t help me,” Kayleigh spits, and although Paul’s reaction is expected, Kayleigh’s right, it’s not helping. “I told you, you don’t understand.”
“I do,” I interject, ignoring the shocked expression Paul’s throwing my way.
“Yeah, right,” Kayleigh scoffs. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
“Believe me,” I assure her. “I wish I was.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“You want proof?” I ask, and Kayleigh tentatively nods. I reach down a hand to lift just enough of my top to reveal the scars covering my stomach, and Kayleigh’s eyes widen with intrigue. Paul’s too since he’s also having a gander, and it’s enough to keep me talking. I hadn’t banked on Paul hearing any of this, mind.
“I was kidnapped,” I explain. “I was beaten, cut into and raped repeatedly for months. I’m on a first-name basis with the king of hell, believe me. I know exactly what it’s like to hit rock bottom and feel so alone you feel like there’s nothing left to live for.” I roll up my sleeve and Kayleigh’s eyes travel to the faded scar running across my wrist. “And I didn’t have anyone to talk me down from the ledge.”
“You tried to kill yourself?”
“Yes, I did,” I admit. “But you don’t have to.”
“Yes, I do,” she sobs. “I can’t take it anymore. I’ve tried to ignore it, tried to forget… He’s ruined my life.”
“Only if you let him,” I tell her. “I get it. He’s violated you, destroyed your confidence and self-belief to the point you feel worthless, and it hurts like hell. And the more you think about it, the more you close yourself off, embarrassed, ashamed, and afraid to talk about it because you think talking is a sign of weakness. You blame yourself for what happened, convincing yourself that somehow you deserved everything he did to you. You feel like there’s no one else in the world who understands what you’re going through, or what it feels like to sink into an oblivion of pain and self-hatred, but I’m telling you now, I understand. I get it, Kayleigh, because I’ve been there.”
I take a couple of steps closer, and Paul moves along slightly behind me, following my lead.
“And I don’t blame you for shutting yourself off, I did exactly the same,” I admit. “Hell, I’ve spent the past three years hiding, keeping everyone at arm’s-length because I couldn’t bear the thought of people knowing the real me, the broken me, but I’m here now, and I’m taking one day at a time because that’s all I can do. It’s all anyone can do.”
Kayleigh’s eyes are locked on mine, the tears streaming down her cheeks, and I’m clinging to the hope she’s hearing me.
“And it’s all because of one person,” I continue. “And apparently –” although I’m only just realising it now “– that’s all it takes, just one person who has the tiniest shred of understanding as to what real pain feels like to remind you that you’re the victim in all this. What’s happening to you, what happened to me, it’s not our fault.”
Kayleigh’s eyes shift back to the river, and my heart jumps to my throat. I inch closer, continuing to take tentative steps. I hear Paul’s breath hitch, and I’m amazed he’s holding back as well as he is.
“People who hurt other people,” I prattle on. “They do it because they are alone and afraid. But you and me, we’re not alone. You are not alone. We –” I shake a finger between Kayleigh and me “– are survivors. We don’t need to be afraid because we’re better than the men that hurt us. Life has dealt us a shitty hand, but I promise you, we can move past it.” Hypocritical, but necessary, I feel. “You want to hurt the boy who hurt you? The best way to do that is to live your life with your head held high. Show him he is nothing. Show him what he did does not define you and won’t stop you from becoming whoever it is you’re meant to be. You have the power to take back control, Kayleigh, because you are not weak. You are strong, and you know why?”
“Why?” she asks, and I’m taking a response as a good sign.
“Because strength is coming out the other side.” Sound familiar? “Strength is taking one day at a time and putting one foot in front of another. Strength is knowing you have people around you that you can count on to help you through this and knowing you will get through it, because I promise you, you will. You just need to believe it. But if you throw yourself off that bridge, he wins.” Kayleigh looks back down at the river, and I take the opportunity to move to just a metre away from her. “Let me be that one person for you,” I plead, holding out my hand. “Don’t let him win.”
Kayleigh slowly takes my hand, and once I have a grip, I practically yank her down from the bridge into Paul’s arms. I turn my back to them for a minute, leaning my palms against the wall, looking down at the ground. I take long, deep breaths as the relief washes over me. I had no idea if talking would work, and Kayleigh could have jumped at any second. Holy mother of hell. That was without a doubt the scariest thing I have ever done, and that’s saying something.
“Thank you,” I hear Paul say, and I lift my head to look at him. The tears are threatening to fall from his eyes as he holds his daughter tight, but all I can bring myself to do is nod. “You’re welcome” doesn’t seem like the right response, and I can’t think of anything else that doesn’t sound patronising or insensitive. A nod will just have to do for now.
After a few minutes of watching Paul and Kayleigh embrace, I offer to take them home. Walking to the car, I decide to shoot Jess a text to let her know the score, minus the attempted suicide out of respect for Kayleigh’s privacy, but when I unlock my phone, I spot the text message from Damien I’ve yet to read.
Because alcohol can make you vulnerable, and after everything you’ve told me, I figure that’s the last thing you want x
It takes just one person who understands.
Chapter Fourteen
I’m sitting outside Damien’s dad’s house, staring at the door through my car window. Yes, on complete and utter impulse, I dropped Paul and Kayleigh off and drove to Kent. I am aware of how ridiculous that is, but after getting Damien’s dad’s address from Paul, I spent the entire almost five-hour journey down questioning my decision. And now that I’m here, my nerves are kicking in with a fierce vengeance, begging me to turn the engine back on and drive straight back home.
I look at the time on my phone; it’s almost three in the morning and not exactly a sociable hour. I didn’t think this through at all. I run the risk of not only waking a sleeping Damien but his dad too, who, after suffering a heart attack, needs his rest. Any and every excuse I can think of to chicken out is running through my mind, and it’s taking all my strength not to act on them.
Are you awake? x
I opt for a less house-rousing option by sending Damien a text, but I’m suddenly realising if he’s sleeping, my chances of a reply are zero, and I’m not sure I can handle sitting in my car until a more reasonable hour. Patience is not my friend at this moment in time.
Can’t sleep. Can’t stop thinking about Paul and Kayleigh. I’m glad you were there. Are you okay? x
News travels fast. I’m assuming he’s assuming I’m awake for the same reason or because of a nightmare, and I’m touched by his concern. He’s got no idea how wrong he is, but if I was looking for the element of surprise, I’ve certainly got it.
Open your front door x
Have you forgotten where I am? x
Okay, open your DAD’S front door x
I climb out of the car and wait at the door. Less than a minute passes before it opens, and as Damien stands in the doorway dressed only in his pyjama bottoms, blessing me with the glorious sight of his smooth as hell, lean torso, I almost forget why I’m here.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Damien asks, stepping outside but leaving the door ajar. I’m assuming he’s not inviting me in to prevent waking his dad, which is understandable.
“I’m sorry,” I say nervously. “I couldn’t wait.”
“Couldn’t wait for what?”
“To see you.”
“Okay,” he says slowly, obviously confused, or so I’m assuming from his slightly knitted brow. “Are you okay? I can imagine Kayleigh stirred up some unwanted memories.”
Definitely, but… “That’s not why I’m here.”
“Then what?”
I take a deep breath, trying to find the right words to convey how I’m feeling, but as you know, words are not my strong suit. Unless I’m writing a song. Maybe I should’ve written Damien a song rather than driving a ridiculously long journey just to make an idiot of myself, and yes, I’m probably going to make an idiot of myself here.
“I need you to listen.” The words stumble out. “And to let me get this out.”
Damien nods, sliding his hands into his pyjama pockets. “Okay.”
“Okay,” I say, taking one more deep breath. “I’ve been an idiot. I’ve been an unbelievably stupid idiot, but I don’t want to be an idiot anymore.”
“What are you –”
“Please,” I cut him off, and taking a leaf out of my book, he rolls his eyes but shuts his mouth. “You are probably the most amazing, sweetest, funniest, hot as hell guy I have ever met. You make me feel alive again, normal even, and…” I let out a nervous giggle. “I talked Kayleigh down from a freaking ledge tonight, and yes, it’s because of what I’ve been through, but the confidence to actually do it, to share my horror story to help someone else, that’s because of you.”
“You’re giving me too much credit,” Damien argues.
“No, I’m not,” I insist. “You get me. I spent eighteen months getting psychiatric help, yet it’s taken you to finally give me, I don’t know, a reason to want to live a life that’s more than just sitting in my flat and going through the motions. I don’t know how the hell you’ve done it, and sometimes I feel like you know me better than I know myself, which is ridiculous because we’ve known each other for like four weeks. Yet, you always know what to say, what to do, and because of you, I’ve done more, laughed more, relaxed more than I have in well, forever, and it’s amazing.”
I take a much-needed deep breath, reminding myself to be honest and open. I don’t want to hold anything back.
“But it’s terrifying too,” I admit. “I’ve spent so long living in a bubble surrounded by walls and armed guards because I’m scared, and that’s why I’ve pushed you away. I’m scared if I let you in, I’ll only let you down. I’m scared of not being able to move on and give you what you need because as much as I like you, the thought of being physical still has shivers running down my spine. And because of that, I’m scared you’ll get fed up with waiting, that you’ll give up on me, and I’m scared if you did, it would break me, and I’ve been broken too much already.”
“Dani,” Damien says softly, taking a step closer.
“But then I realised,” I say, “if I let you walk away now then I’ve lost you for good, and that’s what scares me the most: losing you.”
Damien takes another step closer until he’s just inches away. He reaches a hand up to my cheek and wipes away a stray tear with his thumb.
