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“Steven isn’t the only one that has connections. The sheriff here is a good friend of mine. I also have some acquaintances in the FBI that owe me some favors. Please don’t worry, angel. Everything will be okay.”
I nod and take his words to heart. It makes it a little easier, knowing that Jaxon isn’t going in blind and that if he needs help he’ll have it.
Taking a step, back Jaxon reaches over and grabs the box he brought in earlier. There’s a magazine and what looks like a flyer sitting on top of it.
“This came for you in the mail,” he says, and hands it over to me. It’s pretty light.
Turning around and placing it back on the counter, I remove the magazine and flyer to look at the return address, and don’t find one. No one knows where I live except for Chris, and I haven’t been here long enough for anyone local to be sending me anything in the mail. I just spoke with Chris last night and I assume she would have let me know that she was sending me something.
With a feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach, I look around for something to open it with. Jaxon reaches over and hands me a pair of scissors. Hoping that I’m wrong and that Chris just forgot to tell about the package, I run the edge of the scissors under the tape. Putting the scissors down, I slowly open the flaps. What I find inside has me clutching the counter in an effort to hold myself up.
My breathing instantly starts to come in pants and my legs become rubbery. I can feel my heart wanting to pound out of my chest. Tears form in my eyes and start sliding down my cheeks. I can’t stifle the sob that erupts from my lips. I throw one of my hands over my mouth and cry, “No, no, no!”
Jaxon is suddenly by my side, clutching my arms. “Angel, what is it?”
I barely hear him. My focus is solely on the contents of the box. Jaxon follows my line of sight and lets out a string of curses. “Son of a bitch! What the fuck is that?”
I know what he sees. And there’s only one person sick enough to send it.
Inside the box is a soft, familiar pink blanket with a baby doll wrapped inside. The blanket and the baby are enough to tear me up inside, but that’s not what has me on the verge of mentally breaking down. No, it’s what’s done to the baby that has me nearly tearing my hair out in grief.
Its eyes are gone. It looks like someone gouged them out with a dull knife. It has a cut on its face from its right eye down to its ear, an exact replica of my own scar. The clothes, or what’s left of them, are dingy and stained with what looks like old blood. There are slashes over the entire doll. There also seems to be burn marks on the arms and legs. The marks look just like the ones Steven used to love putting on my body with his cigars.
I dig my fingers into my hair and pull hard. I double over, crying uncontrollably. I’m beginning to see black spots in my vision. I hear Jaxon running through the house, but have no idea what he’s doing. A few seconds later he bends and scoops me up into his arms. He walks through the kitchen into the living room and gently places me on the couch.
He pushes my head between my legs to help regulate my breathing before I pass out. Rubbing my back, he says quietly, “Take deep breaths, angel. In and out slowly.”
After several minutes, my sobs become hiccups and my breathing is fractionally better. The black spots are gone and I feel a little bit more in control. When I sit up, I see Jaxon squatted down in front of me.
I scrub my face and take several deep breaths before looking into his eyes. He looks both pissed and worried.
“Tell me what that was about, Bailey. Why would Steven send something like that to you?” His words are hard, but I know it’s not directed at me. Jaxon doesn’t like not being in control and with the recent events he feels like he has none.
Knowing I have no choice but to reveal the last of my past, I take a deep breath before speaking.
“Remember when I told you that Steven pushed me down the stairs several months ago?” At his nod, I start again. “I was eight months pregnant.”
“Fuck!” Jaxon says harshly.
“I thought things would be different. It had been months since he used his fists against me. He would still force me to have sex with him and his friends, but he stopped hitting me. When I saw the look in his eyes that day, I knew that my reprieve was over. Never in my life have I been so afraid of him. I think he meant to kill me that day, along with my baby.”
The words that are leaving me are emotionless. I’ve shut myself off to try and avoid the pain. Jaxon gets up and walks to the window. His hands are balled into fists. I can see that he’s attempting to rein in his temper. Knowing it might push him over the edge, but also knowing that if I don’t finish it now I may never get the courage again, I continue.
“I had been pregnant four other times. Each and every time Steven would find some way for me to lose the baby. There were a couple of times he punched me in the stomach so hard that it made me miscarry.”
Jaxon makes a choking noise, but doesn’t turn around. I’m grateful he’s facing away from me. I don’t know if I could continue if I saw anguish on his face.
“I think he blamed me for getting pregnant. I never knew who the father was for any of my babies. There were so many possibilities because of all the men Steven made me have sex with. He never made them use protection. I don’t think he liked that. I don’t think he liked knowing that one of his friends could possibly be the father. But he never stopped forcing me to have sex with them. He hated it but got off on it. It was like he was punishing us both, but he also enjoyed it.
“This last time I was so happy because I had never made it that far before. I actually felt the baby kick, Jaxon. It was so unreal. This baby was to be my savior. Of course, I knew that once she was born the beatings and abuse would continue, and I was terrified of how she would be treated, but she would have been mine. Mine to love and cherish. And she would have loved me back. I didn’t care who the father was. I was prepared to do anything to get away from him once she was born. I knew I had no other choice. There was no way I could take a chance with her. I would protect her at all costs.”
Jaxon finally turns around and his eyes are glassy. He isn’t crying, but I can tell that my story has affected him profoundly. He’s lost a child of his own because of someone else’s selfishness, just like I have. He slowly starts making his way back to me, but stops several feet away.
“When Steven pushed me down the stairs that day he left immediately afterward. I came to when the first wave of pain in my stomach hit me. I crawled my way to the phone and dialed 911. By the time the ambulance got there I was surrounded by blood and was barely conscious because of the pain.” I’m silently crying by this point, not able to hold my emotions in any longer.
“The doctors told me because of some complication they couldn’t take the baby by C-section. They said that if they did, the chance of me dying grew exponentially. I was forced to deliver her by natural birth. I had to deliver my baby girl as if she was fine and then watch them take her away. I only got to hold her for a minute. The sad thing was she looked just like Steven. Steven killed our baby for nothing. She was his.
“That’s why I can’t have babies. Falling down the stairs damaged something in me that can’t be fixed. Something to do with my fallopian tubes. I didn’t really pay attention to what the doctors were saying. I was still too grief stricken to care. After I lost my baby girl, I knew I never wanted to try again. I had already lost so many; I didn’t want to take the chance of it happening again.”
