Page 2 of A Game of Secrets

Her expression shows she is completely and utterly serious, but we both burst into laughter. God how I love this girl. I know I'm being stupid, but I would travel to the ends of the earth and back again to never let my ex find out about Teddy. I may have been stupid enough back then to let him beat me black and blue, but I will never let him near my son. Kat pulls me into a tight hug. "I promise you he won't be there."How I hope you're right,I sigh, squeezing her back and forcing myself to get my breathing under control.

After holding onto me for what felt like a lifetime, Kat finally releases me. "You got this girl," she smiles, wiping away the mascara from my cheeks.

I nod, "I've totally got this."

"Anyway, at least you'll have Dr. Graves to keep you company," she teases, giving me the side eye as she pulls her tunic on. I shake my head and continue getting ready. "He'll take your mind off Vinny for sure, if you ask him nicely. Everybody knows he's got the hots for you," she smirks at me.

"You really think I'd have to ask nicely? He'd hump a table if it could talk." I snort and Kat throws her head back in a fit of giggles as we leave the changing room, falling into each other as we continue to howl with laughter.

After Kat reassures me once again that my ex-husband won’t somehow turn up in our state prison, I make my way to the staff kitchen to grab a fresh coffee to go. I’m definitely going to need some caffeine for this journey if the only person I have to talk to has the communication skills of a teaspoon. Though the thought of spending a car ride with a teaspoon is much more appealing.

“Good morning, Lucille.” An overly enthusiastic voice calls out behind me.

Here we go. I grit my teeth as I turn around. “Good morning Dr Graves,” I smile politely.

He holds a hand up and grins his seedy grin as he takes a slow step towards me. “Please Lucille, how many times, call me Tom.” I smile again and side step his advance.

“I’ll go and make sure we have everything ready for today.” I suggest, quickly skipping out of the room before he has a chance to object.

This is going to be a long day.

I gather together a few extra supplies, mainly extra sets of dressings, gauze and gloves. Most things will be available for us in the medical rooms of the prison. I pack them into a large clear container, it makes the checking in process much easier when we’re being searched before entering and I set off towards the minivan that the hospital hires for these clinic rotation days. I climb in the van and plonk myself next to the window behind the driver's seat, stuffing the extra box into the seat beside me.

“I hope you’re looking forward to this as much as I am Lucille. It’s always such a pleasure to get to work with you one on one.” Dr Graves all but sings as he hauls himself into the van after me with a grin mirroring a Cheshire cat.

My stomach churns slightly at the sight and I have to stifle down the lump rising in my throat. “Oh yeah, I can’t wait.” I mumble as he moves the supply box separating us onto the row behind and slides in next to me.Great. I can practically feel his neediness radiating from him as his knee knocks against my own while he settles himself in. Subtly, I scoot a little further over, disguising it while I cross my leg over the other in a hopeless attempt to keep as much space between us as possible.

“Right then, let’s get this show on the road,” the driver calls over his shoulder. As we slowly peel away from the sidewalk, a sense of what I can only describe as bitter unease nestles deep into my bones. There's definitely no turning back now. I can taste my anxiety beginning to creep in again and the thought of a 40 minute journey in such close proximity to Tom Graves literally makes my skin crawl. He's already started talking to me, something about the price of cars and a dealership down the road, but I'm drifting and I’m a million miles away, back in my shitty little run down flat in Seattle.

6 years earlier

The bruising above my right eye is already beginning to show.

"You can't keep doing this, he's going to kill you." I cry to myself in the bathroom mirror as I smash my fist into the glass, blood instantly pouring from my knuckles. I grab the first aid kit I'd been keeping in the vanity for all the times I’ve needed patching up and begin to bandage my wounds. I've gotten pretty good at hiding Vinny's drunken 'mistakes' over the last year and thought of some pretty good excuses for my injuries when I've let one slip. He never used to be like this, at the start he was so lovely and attentive and we really were truly, madly, deeply in love. I couldn't wait to marry him. But as soon as I did, the perfect image of the man he had deceived me with began to fade and the monster beneath began to rear its ugly head.

The beatings were light at first, only when he had been out drinking with mates. But over time, he became possessive and paranoid about where I went, what clothes I would wear and who I spoke too. I couldn't even speak to my brother without being accused of wanting to leave him. Little did he know, I'd never said a word to anybody about what had been happening behind closed doors. How could I? Especially not to my brother Max, he'd kill him in an instant and I'd be left wondering how I was ever stupid enough to fall for a man like Vinny. A man who gets off on beating his own wife half to death just because he had a bad day at work.

Flitting through my drawers desperately trying to find something Vinny would consider appropriate to wear for my shift at the local 24/7 diner, I catch his bulky frame standing in the doorway out of the corner of my eye, watching my every move. Pretending not to notice him, I slip into a pair of black skinny jeans and a white shirt then sit to pull on my Converse and head towards the door. He doesn't attempt to move and the closer I get, the more I realize he's been drinking. The darkest of eyes bore into me and my stomach drops with the knowledge of what is about to happen. As if he knows exactly what I'm thinking, a sick grin spreads slowly across his face before he lunges toward me, grabbing at my wrist as I try to side step him. Most men his size would struggle to move so quickly but he doesn’t. He twists my arm and bends it at the elbow, holding it against my back then pushes me forward, cracking my head against the mirrored wall.

"Let me go!" I plead, already losing the feeling in my arm, "You're hurting me." I feel his fist ball into my hair before yanking hard to pull my face up towards his.

His breath is hot against my skin, the smell of absinthe and cigarettes making me nauseous. He runs his lips against my ear and his grip around my wrist tightens. "Bitch, I’ve not even started," he whispers in a voice so cold I hardly even recognise it. In an instant my heart stops, my ears buzz and my vision clouds before I realize he's smashed my head into the mirror again, shattering it to pieces this time.

Bringing my free hand up towards my face, I feel wetness dripping down my cheek. Crack! Again. Crack! Again. I lose count before I'm thrown to the floor. Barely conscious, I try to crawl to the door, but I’m stopped short by a heavy weight pressing down on me from above. The air barely escapes my lungs before the weight is lifted, only to be applied again. Unable to see what is happening behind me, I still as Vinny's hands rip my jeans down my backside. My head swims as I begin to panic, scrambling forward trying to put as much space between us as I can. This can not be happening! His hands grab at my ankles, ripping me back towards him. I can hear him unbuckling his belt and fiddling with his jeans.

"NO. NO. NO VINNY! PLEASE NO!" I begin to beg, sobs escaping my throat.

"Shut up BITCH, just give me what I want."

He lays down on top of me, pushing my head back into the floor. I have no fight left to give, my head feels like it might explode from the weeping gash above my brow. I lie still and silent and focus on my bloodstains painting the broken mirror, drifting off to somewhere a million miles away.

Present day

"Did you listen to anything I just said?" Dr Graves asks, cocking his eyebrow at me, instantly pulling me back to the present. I shake my head as I absentmindedly run my fingers across the scar above my brow and blink apologetically at him before turning to face the window.

"Oh look, we're here." I announce, ignoring the way he’s now glaring at me.

I clip my name badge onto my tunic and scrape my hair back into a bun. Driving past the huge prison gates, their presence all imposing and intimidating as they stand hard against the gray mottled walls behind. I let my imagination run wild with the crimes the men behind these walls have committed as I continue to ignore Tom's eyes burning into my skull.

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