Surviving Broken Page 8

  When JC replied with a questioning frown, the doctor quietly asked if she’d been raped. Tom snapped his head around, glaring at the doctor.

  JC responded quickly, “No.”

  Uncertain if she meant, no she didn’t want the exam, or no she hadn’t been raped. “No means No JC. Did he rape you?” Tom questioned through gritted teeth.

  “No, he did not.”

  The doctor gave her a bottle of Vicodin informing she’d be better in about a week. JC choked down a pill as the doctor left the plane, “It takes longer than a week. More like a month.”

  “How many times has this happened?” He bit off one word at a time.

  JC’s chin quivered realizing what she confessed. “Christmas.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. She patted the seat next to her. “Can I ask you something, Tom?”

  He settled in beside her. “You can ask me anything.”

  The pain meds had already started to kick in and she rested her good cheek on his shoulder.

  She mumbled through her numb, swollen lips. “You don’t think I flirt with you, do you? Or Benny either, right? I mean I love Benny, but people don’t think I—”

  Tom’s body stiffened. “No, JC. No one thinks that. You are my daughter. Don’t ever think that. Benny loves you too. He’s part of your family. Believe me, blood doesn’t make a family, love does. Luca’s a fucking maggot. I never should’ve promised not to kill him.”

  “I didn’t think so.”

  “You are my daughter, JC. I love you.”

  The tension slipped from the side of her body as they began to disembark the plane.

  “Let’s get you to the car before you pass out.”

  ****

  Tom was late.

  As the car drove closer to Tom’s house on the outskirts of town, JC slumped next to him, sound asleep against his shoulder. Tom scrubbed his tired eyes with the pads of his hands. There was no way he could get her inside the house without someone’s help. Out of options, he phoned John and asked him to pull Tess’ car out of the garage and wait for him, threatening him not to tell Tess. John agreed, but Tom suspected he thought his Mom was getting a new car for her birthday.

  The driver pulled into the garage. Tom exited the car giving John a brief warning of what he was about to see. Overcome with anger, fury, sorrow and every other emotion, John lurched for the door handle.

  Tom gripped his arm. “She’s sound asleep. Let’s get her inside, then you can get mad, ask questions, and believe me, you’re gonna cry. So for right now, you need to pull it together. Let’s just get her into her room without getting caught. I don’t want your Mom to see her until after all these people leave.”

  JC didn’t budge when John lifted her into his arms. Opening her good eye, she gave her brother a glazed over smile nuzzling into his neck, slurring, “Hi John.”

  Tom opened the door, making sure the coast was clear leading into the hall. John followed behind him with JC cradled in his arms. Briskly making their way down the white hallway, Tom heard giggles coming around the corner. As he reached for JC’s bedroom doorknob, Tracy entered the hall with Shayla and the twins behind her.

  Shocked horror sobered their smiles, realizing it was JC coddled like a ragdoll in John’s arms. Shayla hastily turned, leading the boys to the other room. Tracy’s hand covered her mouth as she ran to her sister. Tom ushered the small group into JC’s room, answering as many questions as they threw at him simultaneously. After repeating the short version of the day’s events, John left the room to find Shayla.

  Tracy cautioned, “You better make an appearance pretty damn soon or Mom’s gonna freak out. She’s worried something happened to you. I’ll take care of JC. What’s she on?”

  “Vicodin.” Tom unzipped JC’s boots and tossed them to the floor. “Will you get her undressed and put her in bed. I’ll be back after I make the rounds.”

  “Wait.” JC motioned her hand for Tom to come closer. “If I forget to say it later, thank you for saving me.”

  He gave Tracy a strained smile. “She’s already told me that, three times. She’s trashed. Don’t let her out of her room.” Brushing his thumb over JC’s hand, he said, “You’re home now. You’re safe. Get some sleep.”

  Tom stood at the door, hesitating to open it. Turning to glance over his shoulder at Tracy, he nervously spun his wedding ring around and around his finger. “Tess is never going to buy anything I try to tell her. I just can not lie to that woman.”

  Tracy walked toward him and placed her hand on the lever. “Didn’t you win an Oscar?”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Tom smirked, heading out the door to give the best performance of his life.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  JC drifted in and out of sleep, listening to the whispers of familiar voices. Feeling someone’s cool fingers on her forehead, she peeked out her eye.

  “Hey, sis.”

  She tried to smile, glimpsing at Tracy’s beautiful blue eyes, done up with muted silver and chocolate colored eye shadow, but pain and tattered emotions took control. “You look so beautiful. I’ve missed you, Tracy.”

  Tracy smiled tenderly. “You said that five minutes ago when I put you in your jammies. Remember?”

  JC glanced down at her t-shirt and flannel pajama pants. “No. I don’t remember.” She licked her dry lips and swallowed, letting out a tiny grimace.

  Tracy’s face twisted into a grimace, dabbing the corner of her eyes.

  JC lazily looked around her bedroom, comforted by the whitewashed walls and artwork she bought on her trips to Greece. Her things. Her belongings. Her home.

  “God, I’m glad to be home.”

  She laid her head back down and drifted off to sleep, listening to the faint sounds of voices beyond her door and guests strolling past her bedroom window as they were leaving.

  Tom and Tess waved from the doorway, saying goodbye to their last guests. Taking Tess by the hand, he led her into their bedroom. Following her into the closet, Tom unzipped the back of her strapless dress. He heard a soft pleasant sigh as she let the dress fall to the floor.

  Digging through her comfy clothes drawer, he handed her a t-shirt and sweatpants when she turned to face him.

  “What do you want me to do with those?” she teased playfully, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt.

  Tom clutched her fingers and pressed them to his warm lips. “Put these on Tess. We need to talk.”

  She withdrew her fingers and straightened her back in a show of wariness. “What is it?”

  His jaw clenched tight as he motioned her toward the edge of their bed.

  “Just tell me.” Tess frowned, refusing to sit. “I knew there was something wrong when you weren’t here on time. What’s wrong?”

  “I went to Italy today.” The day’s events finally caught up to him, and to his own surprise, hot tears dripped from his chin. He sucked a breath of air through his clenched teeth. “I went and got JC. She’s here Tess.”

  Her face contorted in puzzlement, but soon followed with perfectly clear comprehension. “Where is she?” Tess bellowed.

  Tom reached her before she made it out the door. Seeing the frantic worry stretch across her face nearly brought him to his knees. “Listen to me. Stop and take a breath. Don’t do this in front of her. What she wants more than anything right now is her family, so you need to be strong. Okay?”

  Tess clung to him. Her face crumpled as she searched his eyes, crying, “How bad is it?”

  “It’s bad.” Tom stroked her hair. “I had my doctor meet us at the airport. He stitched up her lip and gave her some meds. She doesn’t have any broken bones, but she’s a mess.”

  Tess wiped her face dry. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”

  Tom raised his brows, giving Tess a cautious glance.

  She sniffled and nodded her head. “If you don’t get out of my way Tom Clemmins, I’m going to mow you over.”

  Slowly, he opened the door. “Don’t raise your voice, she flinches.”


  She paused. Her big blue eyes stared up at him, searching his eyes through wet lashes. Tom cupped her jaw in the palm of his hands and nodded. “She’s gonna be okay. I promise.”

  “I’m okay. I’m ready. Tom—”

  He could feel her lips trembling as she placed a small kiss to his cheek.

  “—Thank you. For everything.”

  ****

  A little while later, JC felt the mattress compress beside her. She inhaled the familiar scent of coconut and gardenia. “Momma,” she whispered faintly before opening her eye.

  Tess stroked her hair and tucked the covers around her sides. “I’m here, baby girl.”

  Hearing the sweet sound of her mother’s voice caused JC to break. She sat up in bed and clung to Tess. Both women cried.

  Her mother coddled her, assuring her in a tender voice, “It’s okay now. You’re home. He’ll never be able to hurt you again.”

  Just when JC thought she’d finished weeping, it started all over again when she confessed, “I’m so sorry I missed Christmas. I’m sorry I lied to you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell anyone. I had to, Mom.”

  “Shhh. Shhh. It’s okay, baby.” Tess climbed in bed next to JC, holding her until she fell asleep.

  She slept for a day and a half, stirring occasionally to the clatter of dishes in the kitchen, boys giggling or crying, soft music or the TV. She relaxed, sinking deeper into a welcomed sleep to the sounds of her family, waking only to take another painkiller.

  She finally climbed out of bed with the sunrise, dragging her aching body into the shower. The steamy veil of hot water loosened the stiffness in her sore muscles. The swelling had gone down enough for her to see out of her eye, but the entire left side of her face was still puffy and bruised reddish-black, dark purple, and translucent yellow. She ran a hairdryer over her head for a few minutes and wandered back into her room, cocooned in her baby blue bathrobe.

  Tracy sat on the edge of the bed, handing JC a cup of coffee. “Mom heard you in the shower. She’s been up since five, cooking everything in the house. All your favorite food.”

  Both girls smiled fondly. JC winced, feeling the tightness of her lip and face. “Thank goodness, I’m starving. Do you want me to put in an order for you? Remember when they took out your tonsils and I got so mad cause Mom made all your favorite foods? I asked you to tell Mom you had a craving for chili.”

  “Begged. Get the story straight. You begged.” Tracy opened the blinds and tossed the covers up on JC’s bed. “Do you want to eat breakfast in the kitchen?”

  JC cupped her cheek. “Where are the boys? I don’t want them to see me like this.”

  Tracy inspected her face. “You look a little better. They’re not up yet, but they’re leaving later today. Besides, Shayla told them you got in a fendi-bendi. Vincent had to go back home last night. He said to tell you goodbye. JC, he feels horrible. We had no idea. If he knew Luca was violent, Vincent never would’ve—”

  “Vincent was here?” JC asked, digging through her drawer for a clean pair of jammies.

  “I didn’t think you’d remember. You’ve been out of it.”

  “It’s not Vincent’s fault. At all. I think there’s probably a lot about Luca that Vincent’s not aware of. For starters, that little prick had his portfolio made two weeks before your wedding. I found photo proofs in the closet when I was ripping through my things. I’m sure he wanted to get Tom’s attention, but aimed for me instead. I feel like a damn target.” She shook her head, dropping the blue robe at her feet.

  Tracy gasped, holding her hands to her mouth.

  “What?” JC jerked around.

  Her sister sprang toward her, inspecting her naked back.

  “Ouch.” JC shirked away from her sister’s finger.

  “Sorry. You have bruises all over. None of these were here two days ago.” She gently touched JC’s back and hips. “Are these rug burns?”

  JC’s lip quivered in recollection.

  “Yeah probably. We wrestled. Fucker drug me down the hall by my hair.” Self-consciously, she thread her fingers through her hair, touching the tender area at the top of her head. “I don’t want to talk about it yet, okay?”

  Tracy nodded. Sadness seeped over her blank expression helping JC pull the t-shirt over her head.

  “I won’t be able to eat all the delicious food Mom’s cooking if I start talking about him.”

  JC couldn’t miss the distinct aroma of Christmas as she ambled toward the kitchen. Sunlight beamed through the windows, warming the kitchen and living room. A large pine tree sitting in the corner of the living room captured JC’s attention. She chuckled in between her sniffles. They bought a pine tree, wrapped the pot in a red blanket and decorated it with homemade decorations. Strands of popcorn and red berries hung from the branches, and paper snowflakes dangled from the tips.

  Her heart swelled with thankfulness. She cleared the sentiment from her throat, whispering, “I love my family.”

  Tess stood beside her. “Richard and Thomas did most of it.”

  JC smiled with gratitude, clasping her mom’s fingers. “Morning, Momma. Thank you. I love it. What are you cooking? Smells delicious.”

  “Christmas dinner. Plus bacon and eggs. Are you hungry?” Tess led her toward the kitchen table.

  “Starving.”

  One by one, the rest of the household joined them in the kitchen for breakfast. A slight air of tension filled the table, but they drank coffee, ate, talked and laughed, keeping up the façade of a regular Christmas morning. Thomas and Richard checked out her face, going on and on about her fendi-bendi and how she should be more careful. That led into a conversation about how their dad yells at cars and calls them bad words, which made everyone laugh.

  JC swallowed down another pain pill during breakfast and her eyelids began to droop during the easy conversation. She stood with a wobble, stating groggily, “I gotta go back to bed.”

  John rose from his chair, offering his assistance. She rested her forearm in the palm of his hand and he carefully laid his other hand on her shoulder, close to the nape of her neck.

  “Ow! Don’t touch me!” JC yelped, swatting at his hand.

  John, and everyone else, stared at her in amazement. Mortified and shaking, she reached for him, clinging to his strong frame for support. “I’m sorry, pl—please don’t touch me...on my neck. Okay?”

  “You don’t need to be sorry.” John grumbled choice words through clenched teeth.

  Shayla rubbed his shoulders affectionately, soothing the strained muscles flexing across his back.

  JC staggered to her room, wondering if she’d ever be normal again. She dozed off, but woke up drenched in a cold sweat screaming, huffing and kicking wildly as she relived her beating.

  Tess flew through her door first, followed by Tom and John.

  JC chucked her bottle of Vicodin across the room. “I’m done taking those stupid pills. They’re giving me nightmares.”

  John sat next to her on the bed, cautiously clasping her hand in his. “It’s okay. Calm down. Just take a deep breath.”

  He gave a quick nod to Tess and Tom, a silent I got this gesture.

  She pulled a deep inhale through her nose, and then another, forcing the air to fully expand her lungs. The tranquil surroundings of her bedroom gradually replaced the horror of her nightmare.

  JC’s brows furrowed and she cringed, gazing into his jade green eyes that mimicked her own as well as their father’s. “I need to tell you something, John. I forgot Dad’s bat in Luca’s apartment. I didn’t mean to. I…I tried to use it on him, but I couldn’t reach it. I’m so sorry. I knocked it over. It must’ve rolled under the bed when—”

  John closed his eyes for a moment before looking her in the eye. “It’s okay, JC. I’m just sorry you didn’t reach it. You could have hit your own home run. It’s only a bat. It’s not a big deal.”

  “You’re just saying that!” she sobbed, knowing it was so much more. “Dad gave it to you and I lost
it. Now it’s gone. I’m a complete failure. I can’t protect myself let alone remember to pack the most important thing I own when I’m leaving the bastard who beat me.”

  When their dad was in high school, he hit a grand slam with the infamous wooden bat. He signed it as a joke and passed it down to John as a family souvenir. Miraculously enough, John also hit a grand slam using his father’s bat during a winter wooden bat league in high school.

  JC was John’s biggest cheerleader. From the time she was in diapers, she attended all his baseball games. She wore t-shirts with his number printed beneath Mathews’ little sis. She painted banners, and yelled and screamed his name every time he came up to bat. When she got old enough to read the pitches, she’d inform him that he should’ve swung, and on occasion argued with the blue over bad calls.

  Right after John hit the game winning grand slam, JC bolted past the gate and into the dugout, tackling him with the rest of his team. She embarrassed her brother, but instead of getting mad at her, he signed the bat and handed it to her in front of his entire team.

  After their Dad died, she offered to give it back to John, but he told her to keep it and take good care of it. The bat was the most important thing she owned. Not that she hung it on a wall, or displayed it properly, it was simply one of her most significant possessions.

  “It’s okay. Really, JC.” John scrubbed his face with his palms. “I don’t know if you’ll wake up before we leave, but I want to say a few things. If you want to talk, you can always call me. And if you’d like to come to Vegas, you’re more than welcome to stay at the house as long as you’d—”

  JC interrupted his well-rehearsed speech. “Thanks for the offer, but the last time I checked, my bedroom is now decorated with dinosaurs.”

  “We have a guest room. Just because we bought the house from Mom doesn’t mean you can’t stay with us for a while. Shayla would love it, so would the boys. I want to ask you questions, but my wife keeps putting me in my place, telling me to be patient, that you need time to heal. It’s not easy for me to sit back and let him walk away with no consequences.” His hard scowl drove a deep V between his brows. John’s fists curled into tight balls resting on his thighs. “Tom said you made him pinky swear not to kill Luca. I won’t be suckered into that. If he ever comes near you, I’m going after him.”