Hush (10 page)

He disappeared out the door leaving me alone in the hospital room. Flowers covered practically every surface. The smell was overwhelming. How come people always sent flowers to the sick or the dying or the already dead? It wasn’t like they could appreciate it.

Siva came back into the room with an older, female, doctor.

“Nice to see you awake,” she said. “Does your head hurt?” she asked.

“I feel fine,” I said. “I’d just like to get out of here.”

“That’s understandable. Mr. Kapur informed me of what transpired to cause your panic attack so I’ve prescribed you some medication in case you feel a panic attack coming on, alright dear? I’d also like you to see someone to talk about what happened. Talking to someone can really make a vast improvement in one’s mental health,” she said like she was reading off a script. “Let’s get this IV out of you,” she said coming to my side.

For the first time I noticed the needle in my hand and paled. I hated needles. She undid the tape and slid the IV out.  She then handed me a paper that went over the
do’s
and do not’s of the medication she was prescribing me. She kept giving me pitiful glances and it irked me.

“Alright dear,” she said for the tenth time. “Be sure and drink lots of fluids and don’t engage in anything too stressful.”

“Okeydokey,” I said.

She disappeared out the door and I breathed a sigh of relief.

Siva held up a bag. “Here are your clothes,” he said.

“Thanks,” I said taking them from him.

“I’ll be right outside the door,” he pointed with this thumb. “Just come on out when you’re done.”

“Will do,” I said sitting up. My body felt weak but I thought I would be fine. He left and closed the door behind him. I swung my legs out of the bed and had to steady myself. “Whoa,” I said as a sudden wave of dizziness over took me. I steadied myself against the bed and waited for the vertigo to pass.

I slipped on a pair of jeans and white tank top that Siva had brought. It felt good to have my own clothes against my body instead of the itchy hospital gown.

I tied my pair of converse sneakers and opened the door. As promised, Siva was waiting.

“Let’s go,” I said, ready to get out of the dreadful facility. I had always hated hospitals. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I had been conscious for the last forty-eight hours.

Siva smiled. “Well, aren’t you just the eager beaver,” his accent made the words sound so much more appealing. He nodded his head in the direction that I assumed was the exit. I followed Siva through the maze of the hospital. The smell of rubbing alcohol made my sinuses hurt for whatever reason. We climbed in the elevator heading for the main level. Once the doors finally opened on the right level, after stopping at five others to pick up hitchhikers, Siva made a sharp right and then we stepped out onto the streets. I followed him out into the parking lot and to the Porsche. He opened the door and helped me in. My muscles were still weak.

“Do you want anything to eat before we arrive at the flat?” asked Siva.

I shook my head and put my hand to my stomach.

“I don’t think so,” I said softly. “I don’t think my stomach can handle much.”

“Fair enough,” he said tugging on his jeans.

I grabbed his hand. “Siva,” I gulped. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t shown up that night.”

“I know what would’ve happened,” he growled but he didn’t take his hand off of mine. “We do have to make one stop before we go home.” The muscles of his hand and neck tightened,

“Where?” I asked hesitantly. His posture and the set of his jaw frightened me.

“The police station. You have to give a statement.”

“Fuck,” I sighed.

Suddenly Siva grinned. “Language Sloane.”

* * *

Siva held my hand all through the questioning by the police. His solid presence comforted me but I had a feeling he was even more uncomfortable than me. He kept glancing around like a nervous fugitive ready to run. But he didn’t. He stayed by my side and comforted me.

“That’s all I need,” said the officer. He was bald with a thick mustache.

Siva’s grip on my hand tightened. “The bastard will go to jail, right?” asked Siva his teeth gritted. I was surprised his jaw didn’t snap from the pressure.

The officer shrugged his shoulders. “There’s not much we can do. He’s a first time offender.” He glanced nervously at me. “Most likely he’ll be out within the week.”

“No,” growled Siva standing. He all but pulled me up with him. He didn’t let go of my hand.

“I’m sorry,” said the officer. “I’ll do what I can but it’s really out of my hands,” he said.

“That fucker tried to
rape
her!
Rape!
If I had gotten there a minute later he would have!  He deserves to pay for what he did!” With that Siva strode from the police station dragging me
along behind him. “I will ruin him!” screamed Siva angrily as he opened the car door. I climbed in and closed it. His hands clenched and unclenched. His violet eyes were roaring. “MacAuley Grant deserves to pay!”

“Siva, calm down,” I said.

“I will not!”

“It’s okay, Siva,” I said.

“How can you say that!” he glared at me.

“Because I have too,” I said and tears began to pool in my eyes. “I can’t live my life
looking over my shoulder for Mac
! I can’t Siva. I just can’t!”

He seemed at a loss for words. His mouth opened and closed like a fish. His lips finally settled into a thin line making the scar just above them stand out.

Finally he said, “That’s why I want him to pay. I want him to stay behind bars so that you feel safe. I don’t want you to feel the need to look over your shoulder.”

“Siva, be realistic,” I said in exasperation. “People don’t get a life sentence for attempted rape. It just doesn’t happen.”

“How can you be so cavalier about this?” he all but growled at me.

“Cavalier!” I cried. “I am being realistic!”

He narrowed his black eyebrows at me to the point that it looked like
a
unibrow. I hated to admit but he could rock it. Was there nothing this man couldn’t look good with?

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” said Siva.

I sighed. “Even if Mac stayed behind bars I wouldn’t be safe. No one is ever safe, Siva. There are pedophiles, murderers, robbers and
rapists
walking down the streets every day. How do you expect to keep me safe from all of those?” I asked.

“You’re right,” he said, rubbing the knees of his jeans. I was surprised he hadn’t worn a hole through them yet.

He parked the car and then turned to me.

“Come on, let’s get you inside,” Siva put a guiding hand on my back. His hand was solid and reassuring. I followed him into the kitchen once we reached the flat. He rolled the sleeves of his purple shirt up his forearms. It
was the first time he had ever
exposed any of his scarred skin to me. He always wanted to keep it covered. I was sure that it could be ninety degrees outside and he’d wear long sleeves, jeans, or a suit. His black hair hung in his violet eyes. “I’m sure you want to shower. I’ll make you some toast and tea? Do you think you could eat that?” he asked.

He looked like a lost little boy, desperate to do anything to help, so I said, “Sure, that would be great.”

“Good.” He nodded his head.

I gave him a reassuring smile because I thought he needed it.

Shouldn’t he be the one reassuring you, Sloane? Huh?

I told my conscious to take a much needed hike.

I went upstairs and stripped my clothes. I turned the shower up so hot it scalded my skin. I scrubbed myself with some kind of lavender salt scrub that had been placed in the shower. The scent calmed and soothed me. I took time scrubbing my scalp. I probably scraped off a layer of skin. When my skin was a nice rosy pink I turned the shower off and dried myself. I put on a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt. I didn’t care what Siva thought. I pulled my hair back into a wet bun to keep it from dripping d
own my back. I padd
ed down the steps.

“You look better,” said Siva. He was leaned against the dark gray granite countertops. His legs were crossed and his feet were bare. If feet could be sexy then Siva’s were definitely sexy. He held a mug of coffee to his lips.

“Should I be offended?” I asked with a smile.

“No,” he said. “You shouldn’t.”

I sat down and he slid a plate of toast in front of me slathered in strawberry jelly.

“Thanks for doing this,” I said taking a bite of the toast.

“No problem,” he said sitting down beside me. He sipped at his coffee, cringed, and added more sugar and creamer. “What?” he asked noticing my
glance.

I put my hand to my mouth and swallowed my bite of toast. “Would you like some coffee with your sugar?” I asked with a laugh.

He smiled. “This is the way I like it.”

“Do you want to rot your teeth?” I asked.

“It makes me sweeter,” he shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s not working,” I said.

“Eat your toast, Sloane,” he said.

I took a bite a looked at him. “Eating,” I said around a mouthful. “See,” I pointed.

He shook his head and his lips quirked. “You amuse me.”

“Glad to hear it,”
I said.

Chapter Six

Two months had passed since Mac tried to rape me.
Two whole months.
It felt like two years. Siva was kind to me but he had closed himself off from me. I hadn’t felt this alone since I first moved to London. I wasn’t sure what had caused Siva’s change. I figured he wasn’t used to confiding in someone. At least that’s what I told myself. But I think it was something to do with me.

Mac was out of jail, had been for a while, but he lost his job. It was a relief not having to see him every day but I kept expecting to run into him around every turn.  I had told Siva once, that I couldn’t live my life looking over my shoulder, but that’s what I was doing. When I went into a store I scanned the face of every person in the building before I could relax. When I walked down the street I looked at every face, searching. So finally, I just stopped going out.

Most of my time was spent at work, but when I wasn’t… Well, it left a lot of time for me to think and dwell on things best left forgotten. I was still taking meds and I was going to see a therapist once a week. I didn’t think it was helping.

I wasn’t sleeping much. I would find myself exhausted, to the point of falling over, and I’d climb in bed and end up laying there for hours in the dark. It wasn’t healthy. I’d lost fifteen pounds since
the incident
, as I liked to cal
l it, took place. B
ags were etched under my eyes along with bruise like shadows. It wasn’t healthy. But it wasn’t like I wasn’t trying. I did try… really hard. But nothing seemed to work. I had no appetite and I couldn’t sleep. I was withering away. Turning into a zombie.

I opened the door to my therapist’s office. Commercial grade blue carpet covered the floors and the walls were painted a soft blue. Standard paintings of flowers and landscapes decorated the walls. It smelled kind of funky too. I wrinkled my nose.

The mousy haired receptionist smiled at me.

“Good evening, Ms. Campbell,” she said. It was Friday evening after work. I took a seat on one of the uncomfortable dark blue chairs. I sat my purse in my lap and wiggled my butt trying to find a more comfortable position. It didn’t work. I glanced at my watch. I was five minutes early and then I had to spend an hour talking to the stupid doctor. I was sure Dr. Bernard was smart and knew what she was doing but so far she hadn’t been able to help me. Maybe I was a lost cause. I knew Siva was paying her good money and it made me sick. If she couldn’t help me he shouldn’t waste his money but he wouldn’t let me stop coming. I huffed a sigh and wiggled again.

“Is there anything I can get you?” asked the receptionist.

“No, I’m good.” I said.

She went back to typing.

“Sloane, come on back,” said Dr. Bernard opening the door.

I stood and put my purse on my shoulder.

Dr. Bernard’s office had dark wood wainscoting halfway up the wall. The rest of the walls were beige. When I pictured going to the therapist I figured I’d lie on some kind weird couch looking thing and have my head poked and prodded. But that wasn’t the case. Instead I sat
on a brown couch that was actually quite comfortable and Dr. Bernard sat in a chair across from me. She had a desk and book shelves.

Dr. Bernard was in her fifties. She had few wrinkles but her hair was already gray. She had some crinkles around her mouth like she smiled or laughed a lot. She never smiled at me though. Today she wore a black pantsuit. She sat down in the chair, crossed her legs, and rested her notebook and pen on her lap. I never saw her take any notes.

“How has this week been for you?” she asked, peering at me through silver wired glasses.

“Okay, I guess,” I said with a shrug.

“You guess?”

“I’m still not sleeping or eating much,” I said, settling into the couch for the next… fifty-eight minutes and counting.

“Why do you think that is?”

Dr. Bernard always answered everything with a question. I wanted to roll my eyes at her.

“Uh… because I was nearly raped,”
and I live with a crazy, moody, arrogant, jerk named Siva Kapur
, I
added
sarcastically
in my mind
.

She pushed her wire rimmed glasses up her nose and studied me like a scientist studies something particularly fascinating.

“How do you think you’re handling your ordeal?” Dr. Bernard asked.

And that’s how the next fifty-four minutes and thirty-one seconds went.

* * *

Jacob was waiting with the Porsche when I left Dr. Bernard’s office. This wasn’t unusual. Whenever Siva had to go somewhere he always managed to finagle Jacob into ‘babysitting’ me. I thought it was stupid.

“Hey,” I said to Jacob. “Where’s Siva?” I hated that Jacob was picking me up at Dr. Bernard’s office. It made me look mentally unstable.

“He had to leave unexpectedly,” said Jacob pulling into traffic.

Hmm, I thought, could he not have told me he was leaving himself?

Stupid, arrogant, moody, man!

I thumped my hand against the leather seat and pouted. Jacob eyed me but I didn’t care.

Once back at the apartment I made myself dinner, spaghetti, and settled into Siva’s family room to watch TV. I didn’t get to watch much TV when he was here. I spent most of my time in my room.

I pulled out my laptop and checked my email. My mom had sent:

Hey sweetie,

Haven
’
t heard from you in a while. Should I be worried? The weather here is hot, hot, hot! I wish you would come visit or at least call more. I miss you, Sloane.

Love, Mom

I instantly felt bad. I loved my mom. She was the greatest person in the world. But sometimes she didn’t understand me. She had never understood my passion for journalism or my
desire to move to London. But she was my mom and she accepted it because she loved me. I knew it was hard on her with dad being gone and I felt like such a horrible person for ignoring her. Some daughter I am. But after Dev died I
had felt closed off and then Mac
attempted to rape me and I felt like it was easier to keep my mom ignorant. I hadn’t told her about the rape. If I had, she would’ve been on the first plane out here dragging my butt back to Georgia.

I hit the reply button and sat there thinking of what to say.

Hi mom,

I apologize for not contacting you more. I
’
ve been really busy at work. You know, trying to climb my way up the journalism ladder. It
’
s been hard on me since Dev died. I
’
m living with his brother right now. I miss you too, mom, more than you know. Maybe if I can get some time off I
’
ll come visit. I think my lungs are suffering from humidity withdrawals.
How
’
s
work and the dogs? Are you doing okay? I worry about you. I
’
ll try to keep in touch better.

I love you.

Sloane

I hit send.

There was nothing on TV so I read a book instead. My eyes became heavy so I made my way upstairs and co
llapsed on the bed. I rolled on
to my side. But sleep would not come.

I woke up in the morning with a pounding headache and three hours’ worth of sleep. Not nearly enough. I scurried down the stairs and to the coffee maker.
I needed some caffeine like… yesterday.

I smacked into a wall.

“Ow,” I said.

“What are you doing?” growled a voice. “And what’s with your hair?”

I looked up into Siva’s livid face.

“I thought you were gone for business?” I said.

“I was. Now I’m back,” he said.

“Oh. Right,” I said.

“And there’s nothing wrong with my hair,” I pouted stomping into the kitchen.

“Tell that to the birds nest living in your hair,” he followed me. Was he looking to pick a fight? With so little sleep it wouldn’t take much to set me off.

I went to the coffee maker and pressed the button. The machine whirled as it came to life.

I patted my hair. Sure enough my hair was a mess.

“Coffee?” I asked him, picking up a mug.

“Sure,” he said sliding onto a stool.

The coffee finished brewing and I poured us each a mug and added sugar and creamer. In order for me to drink the bitter stuff I had to drink it the way Siva did.

He smiled slightly when I put the mug in front of him.

I sat down beside him not caring that I was wearing holey boxers that once belonged to Dev and a baggy t-shirt while he was dressed impeccably. He wore an expensive pair of jeans
and a light green sweater made of a thin material. Siva refused to wear anything short sleeved because it showed his scars.

“Just the way I like it,” he said taking a sip.

I took a sip as well and silence followed.

He cleared his throat.

“I know I haven’t been exactly… the best companion lately,” he ran his hands through his hair.

“You haven’t been,” I said.

He flinched. “I’m sorry for that. It’s just- I’m really confused right now.
About a lot of things.
You in particular.”

“Me?” I asked and coffee dribbled down my chin.
I wiped it away with my hand since I couldn’t find a napkin.

“There’s just something about you,” he said. “I- I want you to come away with me this weekend. Take off work Monday.”

“You want me to take a day off and go to some unknown destination with…
you?
” I asked.

“Uh… yeah,” he said and flinched again like he was expecting pain.

“
Why?
” I asked.

He shrugged his shoulders. “Would you? Please,” he said and looked like a little boy.

“Why should I? Give me one good reason. You’ve treated me like I have some kind of disease for the last two months,” I said, abandoning my coffee.

“Because I want you to
,” he said,

* * *

I finished packing my bag for the weekend. I had called April and she said it was fine to miss work on Monday. I think she felt like
she owed me after the whole Mac
debacle.

Those five words Siva had said kept running through my mind.
Because I
want you t
o.

Because he probably wants to kill you where there will be less evidence.
My conscious sneered at me.

I zipped the suitcase and dragged it down the steps.

“Ready?” asked Siva.

“Yep,” I said following him into the elevator. He had an expensive looking duffel bag thrown over his shoulder. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going, now? I promise not to run away,” I smiled as we climbed out of the elevator into the garage.

“Brighton,” he said, “to the beach. I have a place there.” He clicked a button and a sleek sports car hummed to life. He pushed another button and the trunk popped open. The car was sleek and obviously expensive. I tried to figure out what it was.

“Siva, that’s a concept car,” I said pointing to the Acura NSX.

“Yeah, so?”

“They aren’t available yet,” I pointed out.

He grinned and his violet eyes glowed.

Stupid, moody, man! Don’t ignore me for two months and then smile at me like that! It’s not good for my heart.

“I have connections,” he shrugged, “and money.”

The car was a smoky gray color and the shape of it was sleek. I wanted to run my fingers down it but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. I sat my suitcase beside his duffel bag and he closed the trunk.

He hopped into the car. I shook my head and climbed in. I had never been inside a sports car before. It sat so low to the ground that I thought my butt might touch asphalt.

“Ready?” asked Siva but he was already racing out of the garage. The NSX hummed pleasantly as it raced down the streets.

“You do realize
that it’s June and Brighton will be busy?” I asked.

“I am aware of that,” he said. “But I have a place there and I want to go to the beach.”

“Okay,” I said, pulling out my sunglasses. I didn’t really need them though, with the tinted windows, but it added a layer of protection from Siva.

“At least you fixed your hair,” he muttered.

Oh dear, what have you gotten yourself into Sloane?

* * *

With traffic it took almost two hours to reach Brighton. I was ready to crawl out of my skin at this point. Siva pulled in the driveway of a white townhouse on the end. It had a bay window on both levels and molding all around it. It kind of reminded me of the row houses in San Francisco.

“We’re here,” he said.

“It’s nice,” I said.

“Thanks,” he climbed out of the car.