Page 15 of Saving Ren
“The abuse being screamed got louder, and the ripping off of each other’s clothes stopped. For a while, there was silence, nothing. We’d go for days without talking. . .” I pause while trying my best to stop the tremble of my lips and the ache in my jaw and chest as I speak.
“Then, one night, he grabbed my hair, the next, my wrist. . .”
“He put his hands on you?” Jo asks.
I shake my head. “Please just let me talk, Jo, let me get this out.”
She pulls out her silver cigarette case and offers them around, even Lou takes one this time.
Lighting up, I draw the tobacco and chemical cocktail into my lungs before letting it out slowly. Despite knowing the harm it’s doing, I enjoy the moment and calm down enough to continue talking without crying.
“He’s rarely home lately, and when he is, he’s so vicious. Not just with his words, but with his actions too. His hair pulling and the throat squeezing isn’t the good kind anymore. . .”
“Loz,” Jemma says my name as if she’s in pain.
“Why didn’t you. . .” I hold my hand up to stop her so I can say what I need to say.
“I know I should’ve done something. Left, or at least told you what was going on, but I thought I could fix things. . . we’re Lauren and Jay.” I shrug and give a knowing half-smile as I look around at my friends. “I throw things, he ducks and laughs, we fuck. . .”
I’m talking through my tears now, just wanting, needing, desperately to get the truth out there.
My legs shake as I feel my entire body vibrate. “I really thought I could save us, but then last Sunday night. . . oh, my god, last Sunday.” I swipe at the tears covering my face as I heave out the words. “Sunday night he attacked me. He dragged me out of the spa by my hair. . .”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” one of my friends grinds out, but I’ve no clue which one.
And that’s it, that’s all I have in me. I don’t have the strength to hold anything in any longer. I let out a noise that doesn’t even sound like it comes from a human, and as Jo and Jemma move in to hold me up, Lou just stands on her own, off to the side. While Jo and Jemma attempt to console me, I hear Lou speak.
“But why, Lauren? Why would he suddenly flip like that? Is there a trigger, something that sets him off?”
“Are you for fucking real?” Jemma’s voice is low as she stares wide-eyed at Lou.
“Did you hear what she said he’s been doing to her? Does it fucking matter what triggers him? She could fuck another man in front of him on their kitchen bench, and that still, does not, give him the right to touch her like that.”
“I didn’t mean that. I know that. . .” Lou’s wide blue eyes meet mine, pleading for me to understand where she’s coming from, but right now, I’m not really sure of anything.
“I just meant. . . you two are so good together Loz, I just thought maybe with some counselling. . .”
“He fucking hit her,” Jo snaps at Lou. “What part of that are you not getting?”
Lou’s shoulders physically slump, and she stares at the table. “I get all of that, I’m sorry, Lauren. I just hate this for you, I really do.”
Lou has always been the sensitive one out of our group, and I feel for her now as she attempts to process the bombshell I’ve just dropped.
“What can we do? What do you need?” Jo asks.
“You’re not going back there tonight. You can stay at mine, or Jo’s, or wherever, but you’re not going back there,” Jemma states before I can answer Jo.
“I’ll be fine tonight. He’s not been getting home till late all week, and he hasn’t touched me since it happened. I’ll probably be home first and just pretend I’m asleep when he gets in.” I shrug. “It’s what I’ve been doing most nights lately anyway. Besides, there are things in the safe I want to get out. He’ll get an alert as soon as I open it, at least tomorrow I know it’ll take him around an hour to get home once I do it, and by then, I can be long gone.”
“I can’t believe you haven’t told us this before now.”
“Says the woman who kept her pregnancy from us for seven months,” I bite back at Jo.
“Oh, touché. Maybe save some of that fighting spirit for Jay next time he comes at ya.”
“Jo!” Jemma snaps. “Stop being a bitch, and you,” she points at me, “I still don’t understand why you didn’t just leave last Sunday, as soon as it happened.”
Taking another sip of my drink, I consider my answer. “It’s not that simple, Jem. I’ve spent the week getting myself organised. Tomorrow, he has a golf day with some mates. He’ll be up and gone early, that’ll give me a chance to pack the last of my stuff, open the safe, and be gone by the time he gets home.”
