EMBER
My body screamsin constant pain. There isn’t a part of me that doesn’t ache. A constant hate and malicious reminder of Dean. He took from me again. He will never do that again.
“Can you take him out?” I ask, not looking up to meet anyone’s eyes. I know I shouldn’t, but I feel an immense amount of shame. They saw the reminders all over my body. I feel the slightest movement, and Andrews and Gray are hauling Dean past us into the hallway.
“Ember, I know you’re in a vulnerable state, but would you be okay getting some samples for us to hand over to the police?” Chase asks, not moving anything except his mouth, trying not to cause any sudden movements. I appreciate his gesture.
In order for me to be able to press charges, and to put Dean’s sorry ass away for life, we need evidence.
“If you’re more comfortable with Harley doing it, I can step out. He knows what to do,” Chase reassures me. Harley goes rigid, and I think it’s for the same reason mine does too.
I don’t want him to see me this way, not yet.
“I can do that, baby,” he says to me, his hand slowly resting on my own hands in my lap.
I look up and our eyes connect. He looks so tired and worn down. “It’s okay, let Chase do it. Get evidence of everything he has out there.” He starts to rise off the bed. “He was watching me everywhere. My house. The bookstore. Your house. Atlas’s house. He waseverywhere.”
Harley leans over once his feet are firmly planted on the floor. “Can I kiss you?” he asks for my permission before moving towards me. I give the smallest nod, and he accepts my confirmation. He gently palms my face, bringing his lips to my head, and gives me a soft kiss. He lets the kiss linger for a moment, then walks out the door, saying nothing else, and pulls it softly closed behind him.
Chase and I sit in silence for a moment before he speaks. “Whenever you’re ready. This is all at your pace,” he says gently. “We will want to get photos of all of the marks. Then we will need swabs for DNA evidence.” I nod my head, and I let the silence comfort me for a few moments.
“Okay,” I say before Chase talks me through the process. He knows that none of this is being obtained legally, but we’d rather have something than nothing. I don’t want to take any chances, but I’m not ready to hand Dean over to the police yet.
Chase and I both decide to try and keep as much authenticity and transparency of the collection of the evidence, so we video the entire process. Chase treats me like any other patient, not his best friend’sgirlfriend, and that gives me some sort of comfort in this fucked up experience.
After what feels like ages, we have everything documented, as best we can with what we have.
Chase hands me a pair of sweatpants, definitely too big, but they’ll do. He rises from where he’s squatting on the floor and turns his back to me, giving me a moment of privacy to dress myself in the sweatshirt and sweatpants he’d brought.
“You’re good,” I tell him as I put my hair into a messy bun on top of my head. My skin feels too tight. I feel like I have layers of dirt and grime covering my body, even though Chase gave me sterile wipes to wipe down wherever I felt comfortable. We bagged those up as evidence as well.
Chase turns to look at me, and an expression I can’t quite place crosses over his face. “I’m sorry I couldn’t find you sooner.” He looks down at his hands.
“It’s not your fault. None of this is anyone’s fault except for Dean Michaels,” I tell him. “But hey, you found me, alive,” I reassure him. I don’t know what moves me to do it, but I walk over and gently hug Chase. I feel like he has something he’s not ready to say, and I don’t know how it could be related to me, but he seems like he needs it.
Just as I pull away, noting his eyes shining with unshed tears, there's a soft knock on the door. “Everything okay?” Harley’s voice comes from outside.
“You can come in,” I tell him. I feel myself suddenly extremely nervous to be near him. I don’t know why. He would never hurt me, and he would never judge me.
I try to take deep breaths. He appears in the doorway, his eyes meet mine, and a small half-smile hits his face. Just as quickly as the nervousness appeared, every ounce of it melts away as he moves closer.
I duck my head and nuzzle into his tight body. The moment my arms wrap around him, his body physically relaxes against me. I feel his head rest against the top of mine, and he blows out a breath. Chase leaves the room, giving us a moment alone together.
“What now?” I ask before leaning up to look at Harley.
Harley reaches down, slowly so as to not trigger me, caressing my face softly. “Let’s get out of here, baby girl.”
Harley leads me out of the back room, and we make our way down the hall. Harley’s hand trails behind him, his body shielding me from seeing anything in front of him. I keep my eyes on our intertwined hands, not ready to confront whatever meets us at the end of the hall. Harley stops suddenly, my nose crashing into his hard back. He’s a brick wall, unmoving.
“Harley?” I ask. “What is it?”
He turns then and looks down into my eyes. “We should go out the back door, so you don’t have to see him.” He’s right. I should go out the back door, go to the hospital, have the guys drop Dean into the precinct, move on with my life.
I should.But I can’t.
I walk around Harley. In front of me, Dean is tied to a chair near the dining room table. He’s unconscious, his head lolling to the side. Andrews and Gray have him gagged with a kitchen towel. His eye is purple, and there’s a bleeding gash in his head. I stand in front of where he sits, confined to the chair.
In a way, it’s poetic. He’s kept me in a constant state of confinement for years. Never allowing me any bit of peace. Now I stand in front of him, delivering him to confinement for the rest of his life.
