Chapter Sixty
Eli
It's gone midnight when I get back to Dani's house. She answers the door in sweats and my Special Forces t shirt. Her hair is tied back, but there's strands that have come loose and they frame her face making her look relaxed but beautiful. I have to get a check on my feelings, or she'll know something is different. I can't risk scaring her, but after admitting to Ash that I love her, it seems like I'm struggling to keep this under wraps. Even my family were looking at me like I'd sprouted another head tonight. I can't afford for Dani to think something is different.
“Hey, did I wake you?”
She groggily mutters, “No sir.”
“Nightmare?”
She nods and I can see unshed tears in her eyes.
“Do you want to talk about it? It might help?”
“Do you want tea, Eli?”
That seems like her go to response whenever she's had a nightmare. Like it represents some kind of comfort to her.
“Yes ma'am. Do we have any cinnamon left?”
“Yes sir.”
I let her make the tea as I shrug out of my jacket and sit at the breakfast bar. I'm still in my uniform and then I realize I don't have a clean t shirt for the morning.
“Do you have any washing to go on? I've got no shirts for the morning...”
“I did the laundry earlier. It's in the airing cupboard folded up.”
I let out a sigh of relief. I didn't really want to wait up for the laundry to finish. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
“You're welcome.”
She places my mug on the table in front of me and then she stands on the opposite side of the breakfast bar, like she's wary of me.
“What's wrong, Dani?”
She shrugs and whispers, “Too much going on in my head; too many memories.”
“Is it because of the calls?” We've had more calls since the tapes were analyzed, but there's nothing Tom can pick out on them.
“Not only the tapes. I can't forget the images, Eli. Some of the things that happened are just too much to bear. It's like a weight is sitting on my chest and shoulders all of the time. I don't know how much longer I can carry it all.”
“That's what I'm here for, baby. To help you with that. All you have to do is talk about it. You don't have to reveal everything, just start from this nightmare and we'll go from there.”
She takes a deep, but shaky breath and I see a tear roll down her cheek. Her voice is so small as she whispers, “I don't want you to think I'm a horrible person... I didn't want to do any of it, but I didn't stop them. I didn't fight back; I didn't even protest. How much better than them am I if I didn't even protest? I'm just as bad as they are. I should have tried something. I should have at least let them know I didn't want any of it...”
She's distraught at this thought. She's crying and shaking, but I don't feel like she'll accept any form of comfort right now. So, I just sit still and say, “Dani, they knew you didn't want any of it. Why do you think they kept you drugged? So you couldn't protest. They wanted to keep you quiet, so they pumped you full of drugs. Having you fight back would have been bad for business and they would have killed you. As sad as it is to say, you were worth more to them alive, so they had to keep you subdued. And I could never think you're a horrible person. I know it wasn't your fault. I don't know how else I can make you believe that. I know it's not easy for you to believe my words or trust what I'm saying, but that is the truth. I don't think any differently about you since you told me your previous nightmare and I won't think any differently now. I'm not trying to force you to talk to me, I don't want you to think that. However, I think you need to release some of this burden and the only way you can do that is by sharing what's on your mind. I may not be able to do anything to fix it or make it better, but I can help you carry the burden. You can help me to understand why you feel the way you do...”
I think something has gotten through to her, because while she's silent for a few minutes, she eventually whispers, “He burnt me...”
“Who did?”
“The man that was at your parents' house...”
I take a deep breath. Maybe watching his interview isn't a good idea. I might get the sudden urge to wring his neck. After I feel like I've got control of myself a little bit I ask, “Is that what you were dreaming earlier?”
She nods. I have to take another calming breath before continuing.
“Where did he burn you?” I have an idea, but I need to hear it from her. She needs to get this off her chest.
“My back and arms.”
“What did he use?”
“A blow torch and some times a metal rod...”
I clench my hands into fists and sit on them. I actually just want to hurt him. I'd like to give him the same treatment. I want him to feel the same pain. Actually, I want him to feel way worse than Dani did.
“I can't even ask why, because no behavior like that can be explained. He's a sick and twisted monster. He was there a lot?”
“Almost every week.”
“That's what the scars are from...”
She doesn't have to reply, I already know, but she simply nods a confirmation.
“How can someone do something like that, Eli? He liked to watch me in pain. He liked to see how much my skin could take. Why does someone do something like that?”
“Because they're screwed up in the head, baby. That's the only explanation there is. He obviously feels like he has to control other people, which means he really doesn't have control over his own life. It stems from insecurity and feeling inferior. I'm not making excuses, because he fully had control over his actions. There is no excuse for someone behaving like that.”
“It's always going to haunt me...”
“Maybe the drugs will make the memories fade a little bit...”
“Even if they do, I'm always going to have the scars. I can't escape those. There are so many scars. Constant reminders...”
“I'm sorry, Dani. I'm so sorry. I can't make it all better and for that I am the most sorry. What can I do to help?”
She shrugs. There really isn't anything I can do or say to make it all go away. She has so many insecurities about herself and I think her scars are a big part of this. I would tell her every day how beautiful she is, but I don't want her to freak out and think I just want to use her body like every other man. I decide to test the waters on this.
“Dani? Why do you cover your arms when we're at home? I've seen those scars before...”
She lets out a sob and manages to choke out, “I don't want to see them; I don't want anyone to see them. I don't want anyone to ask about them...”
“I don't need to ask about them. It's just us here, there's no one else to see them. So why do you really not wear short sleeves?”
Her shoulders slump, like she's resigning herself to something. “Because they're ugly. Because they're ugly reminders of how messed up my life is, of how many awful things I've had to endure. I don't want or need any reminders of that. I live it every day, I don't need any more visual reminders. I don't need you to look at me and be repulsed by the scars. I already feel like I'm tainting you and dragging you down; I don't need to see the look of disgust on your face when you actually see what I really am...”
She clasps a hand over her face, as she realizes just what she's told me. Now, I'm going to make a revelation of my own here and I don't want anyone to judge me for it. I'm an emotional wreck, as Ash stated earlier, so it shouldn't be a surprise that a tear slides down my cheek at just how destroyed Dani is over this. The image she has of herself is just completely unfounded. I have to tell her, but it seems like a fountain has opened up in Dani and she blurts out, “They always used to say I was beautiful, but then they'd hurt me and scar me. How can that be beautiful? How is a body completely covered in disgusting scars beautiful? It's ugly and disgusting. They're all liars. All people do is lie...”
She backs off quickly and I can see her body trembling as she sinks to the floor. Instead of walking over to her, like I want to do, I simply say, “You're right. They are liars. They're worse than that; they're the dirt under people shoes. They aren't human beings, they're scum. And I'm glad you said all of that. I want you to open up to me. I want you to tell me these things. What I don't want you to do is to feel like I'm going to punish you for tell me what's on your mind. I don't want you to think I'm lying to you, because I wouldn't do that, but I understand why you feel that way. I think that you've made progress. I mean, you would never have admitted any of this to me before, but I know you don't trust me fully yet. I get that and I'm not angry about it. It hurts me, but that's because people have made you like that. Baby, I don't think you're ugly; I could never think that. You have a beauty that comes from within, which makes you more beautiful than physical features ever could. It doesn't matter to me if you have a million scars; it's not going to change how I feel about you or how I see you. Of course I see your outer beauty, but more than that, I see your inner beauty. That means more to me than anything else; that goes beyond seeing those scars. I don't think you're disgusting. Your scars and your past have made you into who you are. Take out the scared part of you, and you have this amazing, beautiful, intelligent woman who is begging to be released from the chains they have put on you. They may not be physical chains, but they are there just the same. But because of the way they treated you, you are a kind and considerate person. You go out of your way to not offend and to help people. Cain treated you awfully, and what did you want to do? You wanted to get help for him. You didn't want Paul to go to jail. You didn't want anyone to hurt them, despite the way they treated you. If that doesn't show a beautiful person, then I don't know what does.”
She rests her head on her knees and I can feel the sobs going through her body from where I am at the breakfast bar. I slowly make my way over to Dani and I sit beside her on the floor. She snaps to attention, watching my every move. I gingerly put my arm around her and pull her to my side. Now I know she needs to be comforted, even if she doesn't think it. She needs to know that I'm not like those other men. She needs to know that despite the scars, the problems, the nightmares, the drug addiction, how dirty she thinks she is, I don't see that in her. She needs to know that I'm not leaving for any of those reasons; that I'm not leaving her at all.
As she sobs into my chest, I whisper, “I'm going to be honest with you, Dani. I'm scared to tell you how beautiful you really are because I don't want you to think I'm just like them. I don't want you to think I'm using you like they did. I will never make you do anything you're not comfortable with. Even if it's just wearing short sleeves. I will never make you do anything if you don't want to do it. Every day I worry that you're going to see me as one of those sick people and that frightens me. I'm not like them, but I can't make you believe that. You need to figure it out for yourself...”
She sniffs and whispers, “I know you're not, but it's hard to change my instincts. It's my subconscious that reacts the way I do and I don't know how to change that...”
“Just talk me through things, Dani. Talking will help. It may not seem like it at the time, especially if you're getting upset. But it will help. It helps you to get it out in the open and it helps me to understand what's going on in your head. Sometimes I don't know why you react the way you do, so I can't know if it's just something you don't like or if it's because of a memory.”
I think for a few seconds and then say, “He's the reason you don't like people standing behind you, isn't he?”
“He used to tie me to the ceiling, blindfold me and then beat me or burn me...”
Now that Dani is in my arms, I have to really control my anger. I don't want her to pick up on any little change and then freak out. When I feel like I'm controlled enough, I say, “We'll get him, sweetheart. I don't know how, but we will.”
Dani and I sit on the kitchen floor for ages and I actually think she's fallen asleep. I hate to disturb her, but she can't be comfortable sitting like this. I whisper, “Dani? Baby?”
Her head snaps up and her breathing is labored. I scared her and I feel awful for that.
“I'm sorry sweetheart, I didn't mean to scare you. Were you asleep?”
“Yes sir.”
“Sorry. You can't be comfortable here. Let's get you in to bed.”
I get up and help Dani to stand. She's groggy and unsteady on her feet so I hold her hand and lead her to the bedroom. I throw back her covers and help her into bed before tucking the blankets around her. Before I know what I'm doing, I place a brief kiss on her forehead and I stand up quickly, shocked at myself for doing such a thing. Dani just stares at me, not quite freaked out, but not quite comfortable either. It's like there's something else hidden behind her eyes, I just can't figure out what it is. I turn to leave the room when Dani grabs my hand and almost pleads, “Don't leave me... Please?”
“Ok, ok. Shh, I'll just sit here until you fall asleep again....”
Her voice is small and shy as she asks, “Can you stay here? With me? Please?”
I see a blush creep onto her cheeks. This is a major hurdle for her to overcome. The last time I was sleeping on the bed she had a major meltdown. I'm sure I can't cover the shock that's on my features because Dani's face falls and she whispers, “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked you that...”
“If you're sure you want me to stay on the bed, then I'll gladly sleep there. I want to be sure you're ok with that first.”
“Yes sir. I'm.... scared, Eli.”
I climb onto the bed, making sure I stay on top of the covers. If Dani is going to try to push her boundaries, then I'm going to do whatever I can to reassure her. I take off my guns and my badge before settling on the bed next to Dani. I take her hand in mine and entwine our fingers as I whisper, “I'm just here, baby. If you want me to move, all you have to do is tell me, ok?”
“Yes sir."
I wait to hear Dani's breathing deepen before I allow myself to drift off to sleep.
Dani
Someone is in this room. I can smell him. The smell of stale cigarettes and his vile smelling aftershave. There's another smell that I can't put a name to. I just call it the smell of male filth. Obviously I don't know if female filth smells the same because I've never smelt it. He's thrown me on the bed, but it's so dark in here that I can't see anything. I receive a blow to my stomach. It's such a force that I can't be sure it's from a punch. It seems like a weapon was used, but I can't see anything. The panic is rising in me and I desperately want to scream. I know I can't do that, because it'll result in an even more severe beating. I can't even cry; they'll know I'm crying, even though it's dark. I'm guessing I haven't even been here a month, but it could be longer. I want my poppa. I want him to come and save me. I want death to take me so I can escape from this. I want to be with my parents again. There's no way I can be reunited with them now. They were good people and that's something I'm definitely not now.
I gag as I'm forced to perform acts that no child should even know about, let alone have to do. Because I gagged, that earns me some extra beatings. I need to learn to control my reactions if I want to get hurt less. The physical pain is torture. The mental and emotional pain is worse. I'm only a child! I shouldn't have to deal with this. After all of the beatings have finished, the man has his way with my bruised and broken body. I'm in too much pain to even move. I just stare at the ceiling, even though I can't see anything. Sometimes not being able to see is worse. Your mind is an amazing tool. It can picture things without needing to have lights on. In the time that I've been here, I can already picture all of these scenes. I know what it looks like, I know what these men look like. They're all the same really. They all make the same faces; they all have that same look in their eyes.
Once the man has dressed again, he is just about to deliver a final blow when there's a tug on my hand. I can see a sliver of light and I quickly turn to it, needing the light to clear the darkness of the room and my mind. I look at the hand that's attached to mine and follow the arm all the way up to their face. I risk looking at their face, even if it means taking a further beating. My breathing actually hitches in my throat when the face I see is Eli's. This isn't right. He's not in this nightmare. He was never here. He was never in this awful place! Was he? Am I just blocking out the fact that he was actually here? No! He's not like these men! He's not!
Just as the panic is taking ahold of my body, Eli whispers, “Quickly, we need to leave now. We need to get you out of here now...”
At first I'm shocked. He isn't a client; he's trying to save me. But they'll kill him. I don't care if they kill me, at least it will be over, but I don't want them to kill him.
I whisper back, “They'll kill you.”
“No they won't. Come on Firefly. We have to move now. I've got a team out there to help us but we need to go now.”
He grabs my hand again and pulls me up. Just as I'm about to freak out because I'm naked, he throws a robe over me.
I wake up feeling dazed and confused. That's the first time Eli's been in one of my dreams. I've never had one where I'm rescued either. I've never even had one that ended without me being a complete wreck and I don't really know how to compute this. At first, I can't think what's different; what would cause a change in my dreams, because I'm still in a daze. As my senses wake up, I feel someone's hand in mine and the panic begins to build as I try to remember what happened before I went to sleep. After a few seconds, I let out a deep breath as I recall Eli taking my hand before I fell asleep. A sense of relief floods over me, but then I'm filled with guilt because I should feel panicked by this situation. It's not that I'm not scared, because I actually am. Something else is creeping into me when I'm in Eli's presence. Maybe it's some form of comfort or security, but whatever it is, I know that his presence doesn't panic me like it used to. I take another deep breath and release it slowly, just trying to relax with him beside me.
I whisper in Russian, “Maybe this isn't so bad. Maybe I can actually do this. Maybe he can help keep the nightmares at bay when he's here. It can't be a coincidence, can it?”
I feel Eli jump, like my voice has just woken him up. He scans the room quickly before letting out a sigh. He closes his eyes again and whispers, “Hey... Are you ok?”
My voice sounds different, and more confident when I reply, “Yes sir.”
“You sure? I didn't scare you, did I?”
“No.”
“Good. You didn't wake up screaming.”
“I know.”
“But you did dream though. I didn't know if I should wake you or not.”
“It's ok.”
“Do you realize it's nearly 6am?”
“No, I didn't. That's more sleep than I've had in a long time.”
“Hmmm, you must have been really tired...”
“Yeah... Eli?”
“Yeah?”
“You saved me...”
“I did? When?”
His confused face looks so endearing right now, especially seeing as his eyes are still closed.
“In my dream... It was dark and someone was there, but you came into the room and saved me....”
“Really?”
“Yes sir. That's never happened before... I've never had a dream end like that.”
“Was it a good ending?”
“Yes, with you it was.”
“Good, I'm glad I could help, even if I had no control over it. You think me being here helped?”
Before I know what I'm doing, I blurt out, “Oh yes, sir. You took my hand and pulled me out of the room... You were holding my hand...”
He smiles, but still doesn't open his eyes. “I'm still holding your hand. Maybe that's your link to reality. Maybe, if you're comfortable enough, we should try it again?”
“Yes sir. We need to get ready for work, Eli.”
He groans, “I know, but I don't want to. I want to stay here, with you...”
He opens one eye playfully, pouts and says, “Please?”
I can't help but smile a little at him. He's different lately, like something has changed, but I don't know what it is.
“There it is. That's the smile I was hoping for. My work here is done...”
A chuckle escapes from my mouth and I quickly check to see if Eli is annoyed with me. Nope, not even a hint of annoyance or anger on his face. He must know what I'm searching for, because he says, “I love that chuckle. I must be getting better at this humor thing. I'm sure Ash would beg to differ; but he thinks he's the funniest guy ever...”
I'm feeling a little care free, so I reply, “He is pretty funny though...”
“Oh really? Funnier than me?”
I quickly answer, “Oh, no sir, not at all.”
“You don't have to say that, you know? I won't be offended, I promise.”
“It's the truth. I know you better, so naturally I find you more funny.”
“Well, naturally. It is the truth after all...”
He sends me a wink to let me know he's playing around.
“I just don't always know how to express it or even if I should express it.”
“I know. It's ok. I do want you to know that you can say and do whatever you want around me. I'm not going to get angry or hurt you, ok? I know I keep saying it, but I will continue to tell you until you truly believe it. And even then, I might tell you some more, just to be sure. I really don't want to go into work, but we really must.”
“I know. I've got loads of files on my desk.”
I get up first and head to the bathroom, giving Eli an extra minute or 2 before he has to get up. I don't want any more awkwardness than there already is. I don't know if he feels awkward, because Eli never seems to be uncomfortable or awkward. I certainly feel it, but I'm trying to work through it for both of our sakes.