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The white sofa I am on is massive and so soft. I count the spaces, wondering how many could sit here, and I stop at around nine. It faces a couple of matching white armchairs. There is a large gas fireplace and just beyond the room are floor-to-ceiling windows, taking in the entire city below.
“Here,” he says, passing me a bottle of water, which I take eagerly, not realizing until now how parched I am. I take a quick sip as I watch him move around and sit next to me. He has an ice bucket and a small towel, and I look at his bruised and bloodied knuckles.
“Let me,” I say, putting the water bottle down and grabbing the towel, placing some ice in it as he sits next to me. Our legs are touching, and I lean over to grab his hand. His knuckles are red, one of them split open a little. There is a small amount of blood, but he is ignoring it. I wrap his hand quickly to remove it from his sight completely. His hand comes up and cups my face, stopping my action.
“You are safe here. I want you more now than I ever have. When I saw that asshole had his hands on you, I wanted to rip his arms completely from his body.” His words make me swallow. They both calm me and make me want to vomit. I lean my face into his palm, preparing myself for what I’m about to tell him.
“I met Steve when I was around ten. We were put into the same foster family. He is a few years older than me, so I idolized him. I would follow him and his friends around everywhere. He stood up to the bullies at school for me. Used to give me some of his lunch when I had none. We were both outcasts, and he was my big brother. Protective. Helpful. Consistent,” I say, starting this story, yet knowing that over time, I will share many others. I pause to ensure my voice is steady, a lone tear running down my face. I go to wipe it, but Eddie beats me to it. Cradling my face in his hands, I look him in the eye and continue.
“We were in that family together for a few years. The foster father was violent. A bit of a drinker. He hit me once, and Steve was angry. That night was the first of many beatings that Steve took from him for me. It was like Steve declared a war, but because he was just a teenager, he could never fight back. He was never strong enough. He got beat almost weekly for a while. He couldn’t compete with the man who was supposed to look after us.” I think back to that man who was the one that changed Steve’s life. It was because of that foster father that Steve’s personality changed. I see Eddie’s nostrils flare, but he remains quiet, letting me speak.
“Steve was sent away after a while, and I didn’t see him again until years later when I was sixteen. I used to stay in the school library until it closed at around eight at night. It was warm and they had free coffee. I used to fill up on coffee because I was hungry. My foster family at the time wasn’t generous with food and the heating bill was always too high so they never put the heater on. The library became my haven for a while,” I say, shrugging. I can see Eddie not liking any of this, but I push through. He needs to know.
“They didn’t feed you or welcome you?” he asks, and I just shake my head. That's another story for another time.
“Anyway, I was walking home, and a car pulled up. It was Steve. He was much older, but I recognized him straightaway. He offered to take me to a party, and I didn’t hesitate. It was Steve. My big brother. I had missed him, and he was cool, you know. He had a car, and he was taking me to a party, where I knew it would be warm and they would have food. Plus, he had some friends in the car and they all seemed happy to have me along, so…” I shrug again, the worst part coming.
“We got to the party, and I lost Steve almost immediately. He was in the corner, kissing some girl. One of his friends got me a drink. I remember the house being nice and warm, because I took off my jacket and drank that drink fast. After a while, I felt a little funny and started looking for Steve. Two of his friends escorted me down the hallway, telling me Steve was in one of the rooms. I wanted to go home. I felt sick and just wanted to let him know I was leaving.”
“Jesus, fuck.” Eddie removes his hands from my face and rubs his palms up and down his thighs. He sits forward a little, almost bracing himself, obviously aware that what I’m about to say is going to be upsetting. I curl my hands in my lap, take another breath, and continue, but before I do, his hand grips mine, giving me the strength I need. I hold his hand tight, not wanting to let go.
“They opened a bedroom door, and I walked in. Steve was there. I remember him sitting on the edge of the bed, looking up at me and smiling. I started to tell him I wasn’t feeling good, then the door shut behind me, and his two friends stood between me and the door. I don’t remember too much after that. I remember feeling panicked as they grabbed me and put me on the bed. I remember looking up at one who was holding a cell phone and filming. The light on the phone was bright, and I remember trying to lift my arm to my face to block it. They took it in turns. But Steve was first. He wanted to be the one who took my virginity. He wanted to take as much as he could from me,” I say, silent tears now rapidly falling. Eddie’s hand holds mine so tight, it is almost painful.
“They raped you and recorded it?” Eddie grits out, his body still, his jaw clenched. I can hear his teeth grind from where I am sitting.
“He said it was for safekeeping. Because he knew that, out of all the kids in the home, I was the one who was going to make something of myself, and he wanted a backup plan in case he didn’t make it.” The words Steve said to me that night still ring clear in mind, even though the actions don’t.
“Let me guess, he didn’t make it?” Eddie snarls.
“He has been an addict most of his life. He blackmails me so he can feed his habit. That is why I moved to Baltimore. To get away. To try to break free,” I say, my body and mind nearly totally exhausted now.
Eddie looks at me with deep concern. He leans closer and kisses my cheek, one and then the other, and I realize he is kissing my tears away.
“I don’t remember it, Eddie. But I have seen the tape. I know it happened.” I’m kind of glad I don’t remember.
“Did you go to the police?” he asks, and I huff a laugh.
“They didn’t care. No one cares about the kids who are from the wrong side of town. The ones who look scruffy, act up, roam the streets at night. The police think we are looking for trouble, but in reality, many of us are just looking for a safe place to sleep.”
“But he was your brother. He protected you. He was supposed to protect you,” Eddie says, like he is in pain and trying to understand the situation.
“He did. But he took all those beatings. After a while, the protectiveness turned into blame, which turned into the need to get revenge. He was also high on drugs, and he is now so dependent on them that he visits me every few weeks or months for money. That’s why he turned up here. He wants money.”
“You are the most amazing woman I have ever met,” Eddie says, looking at me in awe.
“Doubt it. Did you see any of those women who are parading around the hospital looking for you this week?” I say, rolling my eyes. He drops the ice, and his hand reaches out for mine.
“They have nothing on you. You are a fucking warrior, a survivor, and I am so incredibly lucky to have met you. You are safe with me. We will work all this out together,” he says, making me feel at ease. Like what he says is true.
His cell rings, and he grabs it quickly. “It’s Ben,” he says, showing me his brother's name on the screen.
“Answer it.” Nodding, he jumps off the sofa and starts pacing the room, intently listening to whatever his brother is telling him, before he stops and looks directly at me.
“Ben says the police need to interview us both.” My head automatically shakes, and I can feel the panic rise. “Are you okay to go to the station tomorrow?” he asks me, and my brain doesn’t function.
“No…” I whisper, the fright running through my body visceral. “Not a police station.” I saw many of them growing up and none of the outcomes were good.
“No police station. They can come here,” Eddie says to his brother, and I look at him, wide-eyed.They do that?
