Present Day
Mina: Sixteen years Old
June
“Did you guys catch them?” I whisper through my cracked lips.
“We did; we’re taking care of it.” James’ voice is unnaturally soft and gentle, but I can still sense a hard edge to his words. His gaze flickers to Shay. “You said you wanted to deal with them, right?”
Dark shadows swallow up his silver eyes and he gives a small, but steady nod. I shiver at the look on his face, like a cross between a demon and my savior. Unleashing Shay upon these men, being who he is, they are going to end up in pieces.
Good fucking riddance! I settle back into my bed, the feeling of crippling fear and anxiety temporarily abating. Once I know those masked men are gone… and I mean, gone, gone… this suffocating feeling in my chest will go away for good.
“How’s Mum? Is she in another room?” I crane my head as I search behind James for some sign of her. She had been there, too. I remember hearing her screams, the blood… Oh God! Where is she?
Shay’s grip on my hand tightens and he shifts in his seat, peering over his shoulder at his dad. James’ smile immediately vanishes and he shoves his hands into the pockets of his black leather cut, “Sweetheart, you need to rest. Your knee…”
My attention immediately shifts. I try to sit up as I look down the bed at my legs, but the blankets covering me are hiding them. However, I can feel how my right leg is completely encased in what feels like a cement block. A cast. Oh fuck… my leg! My fucking leg!
My heart starts to race, the machines beside me beeping like crazy as I start to freak out. I pull my hand from Shay’s grip and rip the covers back to see that my leg is wrapped in hard plaster, from halfway up my thigh all the way down to my ankle. My eyes fill with tears as it hits me just how broken I really am. While my mind finally catches up to how serious my situation is, I suddenly start to feel the pain and initial terror that had overwhelmed me upon waking up. It’s like I’ve been beaten with a baseball bat. My right wrist is heavily wrapped, reminding me of the feeling from when one of the assailants crushed it within his grasp, and how much it had hurt. My fist is also bandaged, and I recall how I’d bitten into my own flesh to keep quiet, the taste of blood in my mouth…
When I move, my body screams in protest, and I let out a sharp hiss between my teeth from the pain. I hear the scraping of Shay’s chair as he drags it closer to my side and stands over me, his expression filled with hopelessness and desperation. I know he wants to make it all better, my big protector. But this is something he has no power over, and I can only imagine how it’s killing him.
James presses a red button on the wall and only a couple of seconds pass before a nurse comes in. As she checks me over, the boys stand back to give her some space, and I lie there, trying desperately to piece together just what the fuck happened tonight.
My memory is a jumbled mess.
I remember coming home after my dance recital… I remember eating dinner and being so disappointed with my mother for missing it… how she had stumbled downstairs after sleeping off yet another drunk-fest… doors breaking in… a desperate struggle with a masked man in my room… and then… nothing.
“Are you hurting, honey?” the nurse asks me. She’s pretty. Probably only a few years older than Shay, with curly red hair and lovely blue eyes. I nod and she immediately sets about fiddling with the IV bag that’s connected to the needle in my hand. I wince at the sight. Ugh! I hate needles! But at this point, with how much pain I’m in, I’ll gladly tolerate it if it will ease my discomfort. She tells James, as she checks over the monitors, that the doctor wants to talk to him about further surgery options for my leg, before she leaves us in this sad, little room. My racing heart starts to slow, my eyes drooping sleepily. Mmm… this is better… comfy… happy… man, these drugs are great!
Shay is instantly at my side, hunkering down in the chair again. James, however, rubs his eyes furiously and stomps off to the washroom where he shuts himself in, locking the door with a sharp snap. Moments later, I hear him crying softly. Knowing that my stepfather is breaking down behind closed doors disturbs me so much, I can feel my own eyes sting with fresh tears as it temporarily snaps me out of my blissful high. What the fuck happened tonight?
I turn back to Shay, knowing what I need to feel safe again. I try to shuffle myself over on the bed, but with the wires in my hand, my leg in a cast, and my sore muscles, I barely move an inch before I flop back against the mattress, exhausted.
As always, Shay knows exactly what it is I need, and he effortlessly, and with amazing gentleness, lifts me and moves me over so that there is a sliver of room for himself. Carefully, he climbs into bed and pulls me into his arms, being cautious of my IV and my leg. Burrowing my face into his shirt, I breathe in his familiar scent and relax. He strokes my back in slow, reassuring circles, and his other hand slides up and cups the back of my head gently, as he slowly runs his fingers through my hair. It’s in Shay’s arms that I can finally let go and cry. It’s here that I feel the safest. He would never let anyone hurt me, and if he had been home tonight, I wouldn’t be lying in a hospital bed right now, feeling like I’d been beaten within an inch of my life.
I don’t know how long we lay like that but eventually, James emerges from the washroom, and he leaves without a word or second glance. Most likely to check in on Mum or something.
Long after I stop crying, Shay keeps holding me, and I know he’ll stay here all night, despite the fact that visiting hours are probably long over. He occasionally kisses my temple and continues to stroke soothing loops across my back, and I feel the effects of the drugs work their magic as my eyelids become heavy and drowsiness sets in. I try to fight it, wanting to see Mum before I pass out again, but my mind drifts into darkness, and I fall asleep safe and loved in Shay’s arms.
The Past…
Mina: Seven Years Old
July
“Honey, wake up…”
I rub my eyes with my fists and blearily open them to see my mother standing over my bed. As my eyesight adjusted to the dim light, I realized it was still nighttime. “Mummy?” I whisper in confusion and clutch my stuffed bunny, my most cherished childhood possession. “What’s going on?” I looked up at my mother, noting how she was dressed in jeans and a sweater and had a duffle slung over her shoulder. Why wasn’t she in bed, too?
“Nothing, just hold onto me, sweetie. We’re going for a car ride.”
Mum scoops me up from the warm, comfort of my bed. Still sleepy, I wrapped my arms around her neck, my little stuffed bunny held tight in my hands. I wearily closed my eyes again as my mother carried me downstairs and into the garage where her beater of a car waited for us. I was vaguely aware of being strapped into my booster seat in the back and a light blanket being thrown over my little figure. Mum tossed the duffle bag in beside me, climbed into the front seat, and started the engine. I slumped my head back against the soft, fabric seat behind me, the rocking motion of the car and hot air from the heaters helping put me back into a slumbering state.
The barbeque had been several days ago, and when James and my mother had returned to the group, Mum had looked terrible. She had tears in her eyes, and was a little shaken. She also had an angry red mark on her cheek that I didn’t notice until later. She had found me sitting on Shay’s lap, munching away on a hamburger and corn on the cob. She glared at him, and he simply wrapped an arm around my waist in response, while James growled something in her ear that no one else could hear. Mum dropped her head and remained close to him for the rest of the outing. I, meanwhile, assumed everything had been sorted out, and went about from person to person to chatter with them, to offer to grab them another drink, or to pick more flowers for people. I had been having the time of my life.