The Hurricane

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Frank laughed, throwing water in my face. “You don’t get to pass out on me yet. We’ve got work to do before we blow this shit hole.”

Despair and pain made me want to sob, but I refused to give Frank that last victory.

“Even if I never make it out of here, you’re still going to prison. The police have my statement and the rape kit.”

If I died in this hell hole, my parting shot would be to remind him he was looking at a lifetime in prison. By this stage, I was pretty convinced that he was never going to let me live long enough to see O’Connell again, anyway, so I had nothing left to lose.

“I’m not going to prison, princess. All sorts of things can happen before a rape trial, and this country is all about innocent until proven guilty. You were just an out-of-control kid, and I am the upstanding member of society who did his best to father you through some troubled times.” He relayed his ridiculous story with maniacal grandeur, and I could do little more than grunt at him.

“And the rape? How’re you going to make that disappear?” I panted.

“Oh, you were raped all right...but by some boy you’d been hooking up with. Understandable, really, given the slutty way you were dressed when you left. You tried pinning it on me because you were pissed at my efforts to instil some discipline. At least that’s the account your mother gave to the police.”

“You should walk away, Frank. I’m not a minor anymore. I’m a married woman. Any power you had over me is long gone.”

I could tell from the look on his face that I was making a mistake. That didn’t stop me from doing it. Every time I mouthed back, or stood up for myself, I was wrestling a little more control away from Frank. The only way he knew to take it back was to punish me.

“So, you’d leave your mother to take your punishment, would you?” he sneered.

“My mother died the day she walked away and let you rape me.”

“You fucking bitch,” he roared, rearing up and kicking me in the thigh again. It bloody hurt but another hit in the torso would have knocked me out, maybe even killed me.

“It wasn’t rape. It was you being taught a lesson, and we both know you wanted it.”

“Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that,” I mumbled.

He lifted up the knife again and held it up to my face.

“Let me tell you how this is going to go. You and I are going to that stink hole of a gym you’ve been whoring yourself at. I’ve been watching it for days, and they haven’t opened it since you left. You’re going to clear out your stuff and leave a letter explaining that you were never cut out to live in such shitty circumstances. You’ll ask everyone to respect your wishes and leave you alone. When we get back, you’ll admit to the police that you cried wolf, and you’ll move back home.”

“If I don’t?” I taunted back.

The knife was right under my nose, and from the look in his eyes, I could see he was itching to use it.

“Then I’ll stick this in Cormac O’Connell then Danny Driscoll, and I’ll keep going until I find someone who makes you listen.”

That woke me up. I had no problem using the knife on Frank, but I couldn’t have him touching the people I had loved before I had a chance to do it.

“Okay,” I said quietly, trying to feign defeat. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Patience, princess. We’ll wait until this evening. Then we’re gone. I thought I’d have more time, but those little shits are relentless. I need to shut this down now and get you home.”

He’d be lucky if I was still conscious by then. I was in a pretty bad way, and I needed a hospital, not that he’d noticed. He seemed to keep himself busy for the rest of the day. Occasionally, I could hear him on the phone in another room, though I couldn’t make out what he was saying. From time to time, he brought me water. The first time, I was so parched I gulped it down thirstily. Then cried out in agony when it hit my stomach and I vomited violently. After that, I learned to sip it. The relief it brought was tempered by the pain I endured every time I swallowed.

As soon as Frank left the room, I allowed my delirious mind to drift back to O’Connell. I turned my face on the pillow, which was stained with my blood. I could see him lying next to me, grinning his cocky, panty-dropping grin.

“Hey, baby,” he said.

Silent tears ran down my cheeks as I answered him.

“You’re here,” I whispered.

“Never left, sunshine. I need you to do something, okay? This is really important.” His grin gone, he looked at me earnestly.

“You need to hold on. I know it hurts, but I’m coming for you. I just need you to hold on a little longer for me. Can you do that?”

“It hurts really bad,” I answered, through my tears.

“I know it does. Remember, I’ve taken a hit or too meself.” He paused to wipe away a tear with his thumb, sounding a little more Irish than usual.

“But you promised me you wouldn’t run again. You promised you’d stay and fight for me.”

“I don’t think this counts as running,” I answered.

“It does in my book. You die on me, and I’ll be fucking pissed. So, you stay and fight for me. Promise me.”

“I promise.” I smiled as I tried to reassure him.

I was absolutely petrified, but everything was better having him here with me. His face was the most beautiful face I’d ever seen, and it gave me a little bit of peace.

“You have pretty eyes,” I mumbled, randomly.

“Well, I promise to pass them to our kids. You just make sure you live long enough to give me some.”

“I’ll do my best,” I whispered.

“Good girl. Now sleep, baby. I’ll see you soon.”

Frank came for me when the sun had set. When I opened my eyes, that beautiful face was gone.

I PROTESTED WHEN FRANK RAISED MY SLEEVE, wrapped something around my arm and tapped for a vein.

“No. I don’t want it. Stop,” I groaned, but he was too strong, and I was still tied down.

“It’s just a little something to get you up and moving. It’s only a small dose. I don’t need a zombie. You still have a letter to write,” he told me, as the injection went in my arm. After about ten minutes, the pain had faded enough for me to stand when he cut my restraints. We shuffled out of the door, and I saw I’d been held in a basement flat. I could see why he’d warned me not to scream. Houses along the street were packed closely together. If I screamed long enough, chances were that someone would have heard me. The street was empty as he pushed me toward his car, the knife still threateningly at my back. I contemplated making my stand now, but I couldn’t risk him getting pissed and going after my boys. I just needed to keep my eyes out for a weapon and make a move when I saw an opportunity.