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CHAPTERTHREE
GUINEVERE
The headache is sointense my eyes hurt. My body aches from where Milton kicked me when I finally hit the floor. He was on me as soon as Rocco was through the door. He slammed my head against the door so many times that I lost consciousness. Everything is fuzzy, but when I came to, I was in my room bloody and aching. I carefully showered and took care of myself. As I was getting pain relievers from the kitchen, I overheard George yelling at Milton about being careful because the attorney had seen everything that happened. It made me feel good that George was worried about me until he finished the sentence. He told Milton to wait until we were alone next time. I had scurried back to my room and hid there in my world of words.
During the night I didn’t sleep much, and the pain just kept getting worse. But the flashing images across my mind are what I can’t get out of my head. I can only guess that they are memories. I keep seeing a man and a woman; she looks like me. They both look at me with love in their eyes. They are saying things to me that I can’t hear.
Then I woke up from a nightmare where I saw myself in a car with bright lights shining around me, people screaming, and the sound of metal crushing. It was a car accident. But I’ve never been in a car accident. I felt like I was small and not an adult. I’ve never seen the man or woman.
Even now as I’m standing in the kitchen scrubbing the counters, a flash of something flies through my mind. I’m a small child and the woman is singing to me. It’s the song from Mama Mia, a musical I’ve always loved. Carmen hated me listening to it or to Abba; she broke the radio when I listened to it one day. She had screamed at me for so long and then dragged me by my hair from the room.
The images hit me so hard that I can’t keep from crying out. I drop the sponge and grab my head as I fall to my knees next to the counter and gently rock, trying to make the pain go away.
“Stop. Stop,” I moan.
“What are you doing, you crazy idiot?” Prudence’s voice grates on my nerves like a spike in my head. My head is in so much pain that my hair hurts. I cry out and hold my ears to muffle her voice.
“Get up or I’m going to tell my mother,” she yells as she smacks me in the back.
The pain from my bruised ribs has me begging for death in my head. I continue to rock, not caring that my wet hands are getting me wet. I hear her huff as she moves away from me. I know she’s going to get Carmen. I try to get up, but when I open my eyes, the lights cause my vision to blur and I fall back down to my knees.
“What the hell is going on in here? George, she’s lost her mind finally.” My mother’s voice that is higher pitched than Pru’s causes the spikes of pain to grow more. The visions are rolling even more through my mind. I can’t stop them, and I roll to the floor on my side afraid I’m going to be sick.
I hear bells and think I’m finally dying. I’m finally going to be free of all this. Of the pain of not knowing why my family hates me. Free of the physical pain they inflict on me.
“What the fuck happened?” I hear another voice, and I think it’s Rocco. Then I smell his rugged cologne and all that is him, and I stop rocking and allow him to pull me up and into his arms. George told me this morning when I served them breakfast that I would never see Rocco again. I told him he was coming, and he said he’d take care of it. I didn’t think I’d see him again.
“It hurts so bad,” I whimper into his shirt.
“Beautiful, what did they do to you?” His voice is soft and it caresses my cheek along with his scruff.
The whole side of my face is bruised from where I impacted the door. It’s swollen and my eye is blackened from where Milton punched me in the face. At breakfast I overheard my mother and father arguing because he sent Milton away for a few days. I was happy because I’ll have a break from him beating me.
“She fell down the stairs,” George says. I can’t deny that’s what happened to me because of the pain when I move my jaw, and I don’t want to be hurt more.
I know the rules.
Never tell.
I bear the scars from when someone tried to help me before.
“I’m taking her to the hospital.” Rocco starts to stand, and the movement has me pushing away from him. My feet hit the floor and I move to the trash can as fast as I can. I proceed to puke and dry heave. “Call an ambulance, she might have a concussion,” Rocco orders, but I can’t hear anyone else moving around. I slump to the ground as another vision flashes behind my eyes. I scream and hold my head as it feels like it’s going to explode.
* * *
I come to in the hospital, lying on a bed in a dark, quiet room. I start to move, knowing I need to get out of here. My father and mother will be angrier than when I was attacked.
“Don’t move, Ever, just relax,” Rocco says quietly, and I turn to see him sitting at my side. I take him in for a moment. His dark hair is rumpled and curling wildly around his head, as if he has been running his hands through it over and over. His eyes are soft as he looks at me. I can see the worry in them. I gently reach out with my hand that has an IV in it.
“Why do you keep helping me?” I want to know. I need to know.
“Because you need someone to protect you. Besides, I like you.” His lips tip up.
My hand slides down his face. His whiskers scratch against my palm, and the sensation causes my body to respond to him. My nipples become erect. I’ve never felt this before; I’ve written about it but never felt it. Now, I know what the feelings are like. I’ll be able to explain these sensations better now. But my heart clenches as I realize what he really said.
“I like you too.” I drop my hand and turn my head away from him.
