Page 43 of After the Rain
“No, I’ve barely had feelings for anyone. Which is why this hits so fucking hard. I mean, I’ve had one-night stands or whatever, but never with any feelings behind them. There’s just something about Corey. I don’t know what to tell you. I just know I’m attracted to who I’m attracted to. It’s only ever happened twice, and even with Shell, it didn’t feel like this.”
Fuck. It seems like I need to do a better job of checking in with my siblings all around.We spend the rest of the night chatting intermittently before we both crash at around four o’clock. Nash sleeps on the sofa, and I manage to drag myself up to bed. I hope he manages to get some sleep. He’s got a new daughter arriving soon to prepare for.
I proceed to sleep fitfully for a few hours with my face buried in Rain’s pillow, searching desperately for any hint of his scent so that I know for sure he was here, and it wasn’t all a dream. When I wake up a little before nine o’clock the next morning, and the memories of the day before rise up in my mind, I realise that, no, it’s not a dream. It’s a fucking nightmare. And it isn’t over yet.
Thirty-One
Rain
It takes two days before Dan comes into the room he’s holding us in. He’s pushed a couple of meagre meals through the door, but this is the first time he’s actually come inside, presumably to talk. As soon as we hear the padlock on the outside of the door start to rattle, Corey and I lock eyes. We both know what to do. This plan we hatched is reckless, but we’ll do it. And if it fails, we’ll think again. And again, over, and over until we get out. And then, Dan and his minion of a brother are going to fucking prison. In the time we’ve been in here, both Corey and I have decided that enough is enough. We both would have been happy to just let sleeping dogs lie if it meant we could start afresh somewhere else.
But these arseholes had to come and cause trouble. They set one of Aidan’s boats on fire. They trashed the dance studio he built for me –Dan had taken great pleasure in telling me that as he’d driven us out of Norfolk and back to London the other day. They’d known exactly where Corey was the whole time because they had cloned his fucking phone and put a tracking app on it! They’d been hoping he’d lead them to me, and of course, he did. Well, technically, I led them to me. It was me who reached out to him on Instagram. Oh, and speaking of Instagram, apparently they hadn’t even seen that photo that Wren had tagged me in. So, I’ll have to make sure she knows that this is all on me, and nobody else.
Corey and I get ourselves into position. Corey sits on the stool in front of the dressing table, positioned as though he’s looking out of the window, and I sit at the head of the bed, leaning against the headboard. Seconds later, the integrated lock on the door clicks, and it’s pushed open. It’s tentative, almost as though he’s expecting an ambush. Little does he know.
“Morning, sugar,” he says, looking at me with a demented gleam in his eyes. He quickly removes his wrinkled suit jacket and tosses it on the foot of the bed. We’ve turned the heater up in here to make it as warm as possible so that he would remove the fucking thing. He always wears a suit, no matter what day of the week it is. He thinks it makes him seem like a gangster, I’m sure. But maybe we didn’t need to sit ina sweltering hot room for hours. He’s already clammy, and his sweat smells like chemicals, and I just know that he’s either high or is coming down. He’s clearly been using a lot more even than he did a couple months ago. He looks awful. “I figure that since you’ve had a few days to calm down, now you’ll understand why I had to do this?” His voice is saccharine, almost as though he can’t imagine a world where I would feel anything other than thankful and relieved that he has brought me home.
Only, the truth is, this place was never my home, and now I have Aidan. Aidan and his family, and my new friends and – fuck, Pax! Jesus, I hope Pax is OK. I feel a little sick from not knowing. I can’t focus on that. The plan. Focus. On. The plan.
“I mean,” I begin, deciding to play along with his insanity in the hope it will mean he doesn’t lash out. Just the act of appeasing his irrational side makes my skin crawl with the memory of how many times I did this before. Even before Mum died, I made excuses for him and let him warp my thoughts and memories. Now, thanks to my counselling sessions – the onesAidanhelped me sort out – I can see this behaviour for what it is. Gaslighting. Pure and simple. But if my acquiescence to it can mean that we succeed in our goal and get the fuck awayfrom him, then I’ll do anything. I will literally doanythingto get home to Aidan. The man I know would do anything for me. “I know that you were worried about me?” I ask, my voice small and timid.
“Yes, sugar. I was worried. So worried. You just disappeared.” He sits down next to me and takes my hands in his. I swallow down the bile that tries to rise in reaction to his touch and cast a quick glance at Corey, who gives me a subtle nod. Luckily for us, Dan’s erratic state of mind has left him almost completely oblivious to Corey’s presence. I’m just glad that he’s alone and doesn’t have Dom looming in the corner. “I know I hurt you, but you know why, don’t you, sugar? You like it when I’m rough with you like that. You like to pretend that you don’t want it, but you know you do. That’s why I held you down and took you like that.” He looks at me with the most patronising head tilt and raised eyebrow.
“I really didn’t want it, though, Dan. You hurt me. You’d already beaten the shit out of me – again – and then you raped me. You raped me and left me lying on the floor while you went to bed. I thought I was going to die.” I know I’m playing a dangerous game, but if the plan is going to work, he needs to admit what he did. In the blink of an eye, his seemingly affable expression is gone, replaced with a blank stare that makes me uneasy.I’ve seen it too many times before, and I know what’s coming. He grips the front of my throat tightly and squeezes, just enough to cause Corey to squeak in alarm.
“You stay where you fucking are,” he growls at Corey over his shoulder. “Dom has his own words for you, and he’ll be here before too long.” He returns his attention to me, his grip still punishing despite the way I’m trying to pry his fingers off me. “I beat the shit out of you because you deserved to be punished. You were cock-teasing that bloke at the club all fucking night. If I hadn’t been there, no doubt you would have gone home with him and fucked him like the slut you are. And then, when you ran away like a pussy in the middle of the night, I had to spend my time hunting you down, only to find you whoring yourself out to some country bumpkin for a place to stay. You always were a worthless slut, and it seems my work to correct your behaviour is not done yet.”
Spittle flies from his mouth as he speaks, landing on my face, and he has a disgusting, sticky white foam collecting in the corners of his mouth. What I ever saw in this man completely escapes me. He is utterly repugnant.
“Fuck you,” I rasp. It seems that the small act of defiance from me is enough to shock the hell out of Dan because he releases my throat beforeleaning into my space even more. “Seriously. Fuck. You.”
His backhand takes me by surprise, but over his shoulder, I see that Corey has taken our initial plan and moved it forward quite significantly. Corey has lived on the streets a few times in his life, and before that, he lived in a foster environment where he was not monitored very much at all. He’s admitted to me previously that as a teenager, he used to pickpocket people all the time for money to buy alcohol or weed. Our plan was to get Dan to remove his jacket, where he always keeps his phone in the inside breast pocket, and when he was distracted by me, to secretly try and record the conversation. It seems that Corey has moved on to actually video recording him. We agreed that sending the videos to both my own phone and Corey’s, which Dan and Dom forced us to leave behind, would at least give us some tacit attempt at evidence. I cup my cheek, fully anticipating a few more blows before this is over, but I am leaving this fucking room today, by hook or by crook.
“You are such a small, petty man.” His fist lands on my cheek, but I grit my teeth and continue. I will get these words out. Aidan made me believe I was stronger than I ever thought I could be. And even though he’s not here right now, I know that if I don’t stand up to Dan oncein my damn life, I will regret it forever. “You don’t know how to respect yourself, so you look for people smaller than you to beat on and control to make yourself feel like the big man. But you’re not. You’re small and weak and nothing.” I spit my words at him with a venom I didn’t know I had in me, while he winds up and lands another solid punch on my temple. My bell is rung quite severely, and I fall to my side on the bed, dizzy and reeling.
And yet I continue. “The man you so casually accuse me of whoring myself out to is ten times the man you are. He’s kind, and gentle, and sweet, and loving,” and just because I can, I throw the ultimate insult for Dan right at his stupid face. “And he’s far better in bed than you, as well. He doesn’t have to take what isn’t offered. I gave myself to him with every piece of my heart. Something you never had.”
That does it. Dan roars like a wild beast and starts to pummel me, blow after blow landing on my head, my side, my gut. He’s climbed on top of me on the bed and is hitting me all over. Fuck, it hurts. But I need Corey not to step in. Firstly, I don’t want him to get hit as well – I’m not sure he wouldn’t break in two with the rage I can feel pulsing through Dan’s body. And secondly, he needs to keep filming. I look over Dan’s shoulder as he continues to rain down hits on me, and tryto communicate with Corey to continue what he’s doing. I shake my head slightly, and Corey looks as though he’s being torn in two between wanting to try and help me and wanting to try and get the evidence we need to end this once and for all.
It doesn’t take long for Dan to notice where my attention is and look around and catch Corey filming, but before he has a chance to react, we hear an almighty bang and crash from the front door, and a cacophony of voices fills the apartment. Hearing several strong voices herald the arrival of the police has a sweeping sense of relief flooding my body. Corey rushes over to me and gently sits me up. He sits beside me and grips my hands as he looks me firmly in the eyes.
“You OK?” he whispers. “Fuck, I’m sorry I didn’t—” I interrupt him with a shake of my head. I can’t speak because I’m in too much pain, but he has to know that he did exactly what we planned. “I sent the videos to both of us, but maybe…” He looks over his shoulder at the tussle between Dan and the two burly police officers who have just caught up with him in the hallway as he, no doubt, stupidly as ever, tried to make an escape out of the one and only door in the apartment. “You OK? You sure?” I nod and briefly press my forehead to his, and we turn to watch the heavy-set police officers wearing tactical gear take hold of Dan and put his bloody hands in cuffs.
I feel tears falling down my cheeks, mirrored by the tears rolling down Corey’s face as well. Tears of relief, more so even than tears of pain. But definitely tears of pain at least a little because, ouch. I can barely move.
The next second, as Dan is being escorted out of the apartment, howling and bellowing like a madman, a familiar face enters the room. Detective Inspector Martin, dressed in a rumpled shirt and chinos with his head of messy, greying hair, is followed by a young woman dressed in a sharp pair of trousers with a pale blue shirt tucked in. She breathes an audible sigh of relief, and so do I.
“Hi, Rain, Corey. I’m Detective Laura Matthews. I believe you know DI Martin?” She nods over her shoulder, indicating her partner. I nod slowly, trying not to vomit with the dizziness I feel.Hello, concussion, my old friend.“It’s over,” Detective Matthews says quietly, taking one of my hands in a comforting yet gentle grip. “It’s over.”
For the first time since I last walked out of this apartment beaten all to hell and broken in every way a person can be, I believe her words. It is over. And this time, as the paramedics come in to check me over and then I walk out of the apartment for the last time, under my own steam, no matter how much it fucking hurts, I think about how far I’ve come from that brokenman of a few months ago. I felt so powerless and unable to function. I questioned everything I’d ever done to land myself in that situation and questioned how stupid I must be to fall for his gaslighting bullshit. But loving Aidan, and more importantly,being lovedby Aidan – truly loved – has shown me that that broken man was a result of Dan’s actions, and not a reflection of me as a person. I am stronger than I ever thought I could be. I’m kind and fun. I have a propensity for cheekiness and a love of slightly offbeat nineties cult comedies and stoner flicks. And I have such immense capacity for love. Love for Aidan. Love for Pax, who Laura assures me is OK. Love for Aidan’s family – my family now, maybe? And love for Corey, my friend, who has survived the same shit I have and who held me together on more than one occasion over the last few years. But most importantly, I realise that I love myself. I love myself enough to remove myself from a shit situation, and when I found myself back here, I fought with everything I had to get myself out again.
And now? Now I can’t wait to go home and start fighting for my happily ever after.
Thirty-Two
Aidan
I’ve always thought I was a patient man, but it turns out I. Am. Not. DI Martin had done exactly what he’d agreed to do and kept us up to date on where they were up to with everything in the search for Rain and Corey. They knew they were being held in Dan’s apartment but were trying to get eyes on the brother before they made a move. When they realised he had gone to ground, they made their move and went in.
