Page 36 of Rocky

“At least he let you have your baby. He forced all of us to have multiple abortions,” Kamisha confessed.

The more the ladies shared, the more emotional Rue became. Tears gathered in her eyes as each woman shared what led them to finally leave. Deacon had beaten all of them to the point of unconsciousness and left them for dead.

When they were found, they barely had a pulse. Chardae’s ribs were broken, Kamisha’s arm and wrists were broken, and Danette suffered a concussion along with a sprained ankle. I had no idea how extensive Rue's injuries were from her ex, but I felt she could relate to the ladies.

“I… this…this is…I don’t know what to say. This is a lot, and I’m sorry you ladies had to go through so much. I ended up in the hospital twice, but my injuries weren’t as serious as any of yours. Maybe if I had?—"

“Don’t do that, Rue. There is no way you could’ve known. You don’t need to apologize for that asshole,” Danette said.

“How did this happen?” she asked, pointing between me and the ladies.

“As you know, my father abused and ultimately killed my mother. She tried to leave, but we didn’t have a safe place to go. My grandparents were unaware of the abuse until it was too late, and at that time, they lived hours away. Anyway, I’m not sure what led me here in high school, but I began volunteering and never stopped. This is one of the organizations the proceeds from the fundraiser will go to.”

“That’s great, Rocky.” Rue complimented me, and I was relieved she didn’t ask what my volunteer duties were. If she knew, she might run for cover.

“We have a database with the names of all the women who come through these doors along with the names of their abusers. When the abusers’ names appear repeatedly connected to different women, the therapists bring the women together if they’re willing and encourage them to start the healing process together,” I continued.

“Meeting each other and sharing our stories has truly helped the healing process,” Chardae said.

“That’s good. I’m glad you all had each other.”

“Do you have a therapist or someone you can talk to?” Kamisha asked.

Rue shook her head. “No, not really. I mean, I have five younger sisters, but thankfully, they’ve never experienced abuse, so sometimes I feel like they don’t understand.”

“Well, if therapy isn’t your thing, we can exchange information, and you can talk to us if you’d like.”

“I’d like that.”

I wasn’t sure if bringing Rue here was the right thing to do, but as I watched her exchange information with the other ladies, I knew I’d made the right decision.

“Thank you for that,” Rue said once we were settled in my truck and on the road.

“You’re welcome. You sure you’re not mad?”

“No. Why would I be mad?”

“Shit! First of all, because you’re mean as hell.”

She smacked her lips. “Here you go with that old shit. I’m not mean.”

“The jury is still out on that.”

“Whatever.”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d be receptive. What you’ve been through is very personal and usually not something women like to discuss.”

“Talking about it with women who understood how I felt was…I don’t know…refreshing or liberating maybe. I’m not sure of the right word, but I feel lighter than I’ve felt in a long time.”

“Then my mission was accomplished.”

After a few minutes of silence, she abruptly said, “Why did you introduce me as your girl?”

“Because you met my grandparents, baby. We go together, and ain’t shit you can do about it.”

“You’re forcing me to be with you?”

“Does it feel like I’m forcing you?”

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