Into the Storm (40 page)

She slept restlessly. I kept rubbing her leg and murmuring comforting sounds, letting her know I was close. I spent the time watching over her while on the laptop. I checked every news source I could find, looking for any leak about another disappearance of Elizabeth James. I was greatly relieved to find nothing. I contacted Cecilia and Trevor, confirming their arrival for the next day. I only referenced the other items Trevor was working on, but he did assure me things were going forward. I also spoke quietly via webcam with Daniel, who agreed to come out with them the next day and examine Rabbit after I told him of my concerns. He was horrified to find out she had not been examined properly while she had been gone and was thrilled to find out she was back with me and safe.

And, finally, I went to a website Cecilia recommended, wanting to order Rabbit a few more items of clothing. Not that I minded her wearing any of mine, but I was sure she would prefer things that actually fit her. I found the website and the vast selection highly confusing. What the hell were capri pants? And, why would someone want to wear stretchy denim? Wouldn’t that be sort of … saggy?

Finally, I found a page of casual clothing. But not before I went through the business casual section and the evening casual. I shook my head. No wonder it took women forever to shop. How the hell they even knew what these terms meant was beyond me. None of it looked very casual or comfortable to me.

The first thing that caught my eye was a pair of pink, fluffy slippers. Rabbit’s feet were always cold, so I added those to the cart. I grinned with the success of my first item. Then I read through the large number of shirts and colors and my confidence began to fade quickly. Clearly, I was out of my comfort zone. Apple Green and Celery? They looked the same to me. Mango? Watermelon? Candy floss pink? Did they name all their colors after food? And, the vast choices of fabric blends; I had no idea there were that many types out there or what Rabbit would prefer.

Twenty minutes later my cart was still empty other than the slippers and I was sure I had actually pulled some of my hair out. Why couldn’t it all be as simple as ‘fluffy’ and ‘pink’? Finally, I selected a few shirts that stated they were extra soft and chose colors I thought Rabbit would like. Including the candy floss pink.

I looked over at Rabbit, frowning. Her pants were black and she didn’t like black. I searched and found some more of the soft leggings she liked in more of the strangely named colors. How did they match them? I knew women were big on matching things. Thundercloud Grey and Barely Taupe seemed safe. I didn’t want her to ever wear black unless she wanted to. I almost shouted in happiness when I found the socks and they were simply labelled cream, white and pink. I knew all those colors! Finally!

I resisted the impulse to buy her a huge number of articles. I wanted her to pick things she wanted as well. I wanted her to make all her own decisions about
what
she liked, and be her own person. But if she had these then at least we were okay for a while. Once things were safer, we could try going into town. Cecilia always said for a small town there were some ‘lovely stores’ for shopping. But not yet. Not until I knew Rabbit would be safe.

Rabbit’s eyes flew open and she sat up, her chest pumping rapidly in her panic. Bear jumped to his feet, growling protectively. As soon as she saw me, she relaxed and placed a comforting hand on Bear’s head.

I stroked her leg in comfort, holding her panicked gaze. “I’m right here, Rabbit.”

She nodded, still looking upset.

“
The memories keep coming into my dreams. Sometimes, they’re so real it’s like I’m back in them.”

I continued to stroke her leg in comfort. “Maybe it would help if you said them. Talked about them out loud. Get them out of your head.”

“
I’ve had to keep it all in. I never had anyone to tell, Joshua.”

“
You do now. You can tell me.”

Her gaze faltered. “What if you look at me differently? What if what I tell you makes you think … less of me?”

I waited until she met my eyes again and I shook my head. “That is simply
not
possible.”

I leaned forward and placed the laptop on the floor. I patted my lap silently and extended my hand, helping her across the sofa. I settled her flush against my chest and leaned back, holding her closely. I gazed down into her deep blue pools of pain.

“
Will you tell me, Rabbit? Can you do that?”

She drew in a small breath and hesitated. Then she nodded but still didn’t speak. I waited patiently and finally she spoke, beginning with the sudden loss of her parents.

I listened.

It was only when the room grew dark that I shifted to turn on a light, never letting go of her. I needed her to see she had my full attention and support while she spoke, releasing the poison of her memories into the air around us.

She spoke of the last two and half years as if she was telling the story of a stranger. I rarely interrupted her, not wanting to stop her from getting the words out, only interjecting the odd comment or question when she seemed to falter.

She talked of her loneliness and isolation, especially once she realized what a mistake she had made marrying Brian, and of the first of many physical assaults she would endure. I hated hearing about how she felt fearful all the time; of never being able to meet his expectations; of wondering what her next error would be that would bring his wrath down upon her. I struggled to remain calm when she told me about the physical and mental abuse she suffered at his hands. My rage grew and burned. For the first time in my life, I felt the need to actually hurt another human being. My fury was so strong as I thought of the countless, careless scars he had inflicted on her, so many of them unseen to the human eye, that I fought to remain seated. It was only witnessing
her
pain of reliving the memories,
her
hand gripping mine,
her
body shaking in my arms that kept me anchored to the sofa.

Eventually, she stopped speaking and I realized we had arrived to the day of the snowstorm.

“
What sent you into the storm, Rabbit?” I asked quietly.

“
It wasn’t storming when I left.” She shrugged, her eyes gazing past me to the dark window.

“
We had a charity function, a brunch, for the library. It was for the reading program. I was meeting Brian there since I went early to help set up. When I went to change, I realized the woman I had bought the suit from had put the wrong blouse in the garment bag. It had come with a brilliant blue one I knew Brian wouldn’t approve of, so I had also bought a beige one to wear with it. I’m not sure how the mix-up happened, but it did.” She sighed deeply, so much pain echoing in the sad sound. “I didn’t have time to send for the car and get the beige one from home and Brian was already on his way, so I wore it; the blue one. It was so pretty and coordinated well with the suit. And, since it was all about the kids I thought Brian would just let it go other than expressing his displeasure. After all, it was just a blouse. The color suited the atmosphere I was trying to create, you know? And, the kids loved it and were so sweet when they told me how pretty I looked.”

She looked at me and I nodded in understanding.

“
But it more than displeased him. As soon as I saw him, I knew something was wrong. He was already angry and, when he saw me, his eyes raked over me with so much disgust that I knew I would pay for wearing an inappropriate color and ‘showing off.’”

“
I don’t understand, Rabbit,” I interrupted gently. “What is wrong with blue? Or any other color?”

“
Black, navy, and brown, Joshua. Real ladies with class only wear neutral colors. At least as stated in the gospel by Brian. They blend into the background and never detract from their husband. They never call attention to themselves. They never step out of line. They
never
wear bright blue.” The words were recited from memory. Obviously they had been drummed into her head over and over again. She was quiet for a minute, her eyes downcast. When she looked up, I saw the tears beginning to form.

“
It started before we even got home. He was so angry; cursing and hitting me in the limo. He had never done that before. The screen was up, so the driver didn’t see him, and when we got back to the house he pulled me out of the car before the driver had barely stopped. I knew … I knew I was in for something much worse once we were in the house. Alone.”

I tightened my grip on her hands. “Tell me,” I urged quietly, dreading what I was about to hear, but knowing I had to hear it. She
had
to get it out.

“
He dragged me upstairs. It was the weekend so there were only a couple staff around and they never saw us. Once we were in my room, he … he was like someone possessed, Joshua.” She shivered and her head dropped to my chest. I held her closer, feeling my own eyes begin to burn.

“
He grabbed me and shook me so hard I thought his hands would go right into my skin. I felt like he was actually crushing my bones, the pain was so intense. He screamed and cursed as he hit me, not even caring that these marks would show. I fell and he just kept going. He tore my jacket and the blouse, and then started … using his feet as well as his hands. He hit and kicked me everywhere.”

I could feel the tears now soaking my shirt. My own were running into her hair but I refused to remove my hands from around her trembling form to wipe them away.

“
I truly thought I was going to die. I couldn’t get him to stop no matter how much I cried and pleaded with him. It was as if he couldn’t hear me. Then … his phone rang. And, he stopped. It was like he woke up. Whatever the phone call was about made him leave ... but he said he would be back. I knew it was time and that I had to go or I wouldn’t survive when he got back.”

“
How did you manage it, Rabbit? You were so injured.” I shuddered, remembering her horrific bruises and painful-looking imprints I had seen scattered all over her body.

“
Terror-induced adrenaline I think. I somehow got up and threw some new exercise clothing I had bought for the gym into a bag and added my secret journal and a few other things ... as well as my small stash of cash I had been saving for two years. I knew I had to get to my car I had left with a friend and drive. Tracy was away, but I knew the car was there. She always let me know it was there if I needed it. And, I had to go. Right then. It was my only chance. I had to get away, as far away as possible. I had no plans past that. Just getting away.” She shifted a little and shrugged. “I left the house out the back way so nobody would see me, and got to a main street and got a taxi to the subway, then made my way to Oakville. I kept my face hidden, and with the storm coming, the subway and buses were fairly deserted. No one even looked at me. I didn’t want to take a cab all the way there in case Brian tried to find me and figured out Tracy had my car all along and put her in any danger.” She sighed and was quiet for a moment.

“
And then, I just started driving. When it started to snow, I kept going. I lost track of time, I didn’t even have a destination in mind. I just had to put as much distance between us as possible. When it got really bad, I didn’t care. I decided I would rather die
trying
to get away from him than let him kill me. Because I knew if he caught me, he would never forgive me. So I just kept driving. My car spun out of control at one point and somehow I ended up on your road and your driveway and I hit your tree.”

She looked up at me.

“
And then … you found me.”

I nodded, stroking her cheek. “Thank God.” I breathed, feeling the tears still streaming down my face.

Her face crumpled and the dam burst. The sobs tore out of her painfully. Her breathing consisted of agonisingly sharp gasps and painful whimpers. Her arms wound around my neck, holding me so tightly, it actually hurt. But I let her hold me and I held her back. I rocked her, telling her over and over again how much I loved her. How brave she was to have had the courage to escape. How incredibly strong and amazing she was to have persevered and survived. I knew they were just words.