Read Breathe In Page 8


  “Tom.” I shake his shoulder and raise my voice. “Tom. I’m scared. I want to go home.”

  He still won’t acknowledge me. Why won’t he answer me? I look toward the screen to see what has engrossed him so completely. The movie is black and white. There’s a girl tied to a bed in the center of a small room. The girl is me. I’m watching myself. I’m in underwear and a bra. I’m sobbing and begging for help. I look so broken, so weak, so pathetic.

  Frantic, I scan the theater. It’s full. Everyone is watching. They can all see. My body flushes and I break into a cold sweat. A deafening roar fills my ears. I open my mouth to scream but no sound comes.

  “Tessa. Tessa. Wake up.”

  Tearing the covers from my body, I bolt upright in the bed. Reality of where I am, here and now, sift through the remnants of the dream. Hospital walls surround me in a low-lit room. The sound of monitors and an IV pump hum through the otherwise silent medical floor. Officer MacGregor looks down at me with a look of gentle concern. Breathe in. Breathe out.

  “You were dreaming. You’re okay. Everything is okay.”

  Glancing around the room one last time, I confirm that it’s as he says. Nodding, I slowly sink back into the pillow. A faint tinge of light peeks through a slit in the curtain and tells me morning is near. I’ve slept for hours, though I don’t feel rested at all. It feels as if I’ve been deprived of sleep for weeks. My insides feel hollow, like they’ve been spooned out. I’m empty. Devoid of any emotion.

  He stands close to the bed, looking down with a look of concern. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  I shake my head. “No. Did…did you stay all night?” His fresh stubble and sleepy eyes tell me he’s had a long night in the recliner in the corner of the room.

  He shrugs a shoulder. “Yeah, you asked me to.”

  I’m mortified. “I didn’t think you’d actually stay. I thought maybe as soon as I fell asleep you’d leave. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kept you. Your family must be upset that you’ve been gone all this time.”

  He shrugs again. “Eh, not really. The only one at home waiting for me is my dog. And she’ll be all right. I had nothing better to do. Besides, I stepped out a few times to handle some things. Work, you know.”

  Still embarrassed to think he stayed while I slept, I avert my gaze. “Well, I’m still sorry that I kept you.” I want to crawl under the covers and hide. I want to succumb to the heavy fatigue that plagues every muscle and sleep forever.

  “It’s fine. Really. I didn’t mind. I do need to be going, though. But before I do, I need to tell you…a friend of yours called in a missing person report late last night.”

  I turn and meet his gaze. “Terin.”

  He nods. “Yeah, one of the guys down at the station called me up and said there was a woman who had put in a report. Said her best friend had gone missing after they were out late dancing the other night. Said she couldn’t reach you by phone, but didn’t worry too much until she went to your apartment and discovered you weren’t there either. I guess she was pretty frantic, so I got her number and gave her a call. I know you said you didn’t want to talk with anyone yet, but I’m afraid she wouldn’t hear of it.”

  I should be eager to see her but I’m not. I don’t want the questions. I don’t want to give answers. I just want to hide. “She’s here, isn’t she?”

  His brows pinch together. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I’ve done my best to keep her at bay while you slept. She promised to stay in the waiting room until I gave her the go-ahead, but she’s not going to leave until she sees you herself. She’s very stubborn.”

  I let out a sigh. “Yes. Yes, she is. It’s fine. I appreciate your help. Really. You’ve been amazing. Go ahead and let her in. I’ll be okay.”

  “You sure?”

  No. I’m not. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  He cocks his head to the side, as if contemplating whether he believes me. “All right then. I’ll be back later today, though.”

  I suddenly remember our conversation of the previous evening. He’d said I’d have to look over photos and ID the men who kidnapped me. The men I killed. A lump rises in my throat and I find it hard to speak. I bite my lip to keep it from trembling and simply nod.

  When he leaves the room, I take one deep breath after another, preparing for the onslaught of energy that will soon walk through that door. She’ll want more than I can possibly give her right now. I have nothing to offer.

  Expecting a storm to bust into the room, it takes a moment to process the sound of a gentle knocking at the door. It takes all my energy to pull myself to a sitting position. Sore muscles complain and a deep ache stems from the depth of my bones.

  Terin peeks her head inside the door. Her face is free of makeup. Tear-streaked. When her red-rimmed eyes meet mine, both concern and relief wash over her features. She pushes the door wide and rushes forward.

  She stops short at the foot of the bed, wringing her hands as if unsure of how to proceed. I can only imagine how I look, black and blue and swollen. Broken. Damaged.

  I know what she needs, so I hold out both arms and welcome her in.

  Tears burst over and spill down her cheeks as she rounds the bed and sits next to me. Her thin arms wrap around my shoulders and pull me in. I want to feel something. I want to shed a tear, or scream out in anger, or feel a smidge of happiness to see that my dear friend has come to see me. I should feel relief and gratitude that I escaped. I should be rejoicing that I’m alive.

  Numb, I rub her back and listen to her cry for the both of us.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Officer MacGregor sits at my bedside, his hands folded neatly in his lap. An empty manila envelope lies next to me as I slowly flip through one photo at a time. I sense both he and Terin holding their breath. I take my time, my movements deliberate. I feel a strange detachment as I peruse the evidence of my captivation and unleashed violence.

  Yes, anger, shame, hatred, fear, terror, and a multitude of ambiguous feelings that I cannot quite name flow deep within me, an undercurrent of muddled emotion. I feel they will never really leave. They are embedded at my core. Part of me now. Yet, as I inspect the evidence before me, I cannot fully connect with it. I thought seeing photos of the men, their bodies, the cabin, would send me into a tailspin of fear and terror. Instead, I’m agitated. My skin tingles. I want to scratch at my arms and legs. I feel the weight of Terin’s and Officer MacGregor’s stares. I can hear their thoughts. They’re waiting for my reaction.

  Why can’t they leave me alone? All of them.

  A photo of the front of the cabin taken from the driveway. Flip. The camera, smashed to bits. Flip. A plate with bacon and spatters of blood. Flip. The bed. Flip. Jake. Staring up at me, mocking me even from death. An ugly gash in his throat. A bloodied eyeball. Blood pooled around his head. Flip. Vance. Face mottled purple and blue from strangulation. Poised in death as if still fighting for life. Agitation bubbles inside of me. I hate them. They have escaped the terror. I have not. I still live with it. It is inside of me. Forever.

  I want to scream and tear the photos into a million pieces. I breathe in and out, maintaining my composure in front of my small audience. I want to be done with this. I hold up one of the many photos of Jake. “This one was named Jake. I killed him with a knife after I stabbed him in the eye with a fork.”

  My tone is flat. I pull out the next photo. “This guy was Vance. He’s the one I first saw in the library, the week before, and then again in the bar that night. He’s the one who followed me. He found me in the alley after I left the bar. I strangled him to death with the rope they had tied me to the bed with. But I’ve gone over all that with you before. You know the details. And now I’ve confirmed it.” I toss the photos to the edge of the bed while holding Officer MacGregor’s gaze. “Are we done?”

  I feel Terin staring at me in shock but I cannot look at her. I sense she’s silently afraid of what I’ve been through, what I’ve survived, but mostly, of what I’ve done to those men
.

  He gathers the photos. “Yes, we’re done with photos. I’m sorry, Tessa, but it had to be done. Policy and procedure.”

  “Sure. Whatever.”

  He slips the stack of photos into the envelope. “They still can’t find the SD card for the camera.”

  My patience thins. “Yeah?”

  “At some point, someone removed it.” His voice is calm, laced with firm determination.

  “Yeah?”

  “Tessa, if you have that card, I would appreciate it if you handed over. It’s evidence.”

  The infinitesimal thread that has been keeping me together pulls so tight it hums and then finally snaps. My tone is low and direct. “Listen, I’m going to tell you this once and once only. I lied before. I did take the SD card, and there is no way in hell I’ll ever hand it over. It’s mine. I told you everything you need to know about what happened between me and those bastards. You have photographic evidence. You don’t need video. Now leave me the hell alone!”

  He holds up his hands. “Calm down, calm down. I didn’t mean to upset you. And to be fair, I didn’t even want to ask you about it again. I completely understand where you’re coming from. The Chief, my boss, pressed me about it today, and I felt obligated to ask. I promise I won’t ever bring it up again. As far as I’m concerned, it’s gone. Okay?”

  His tone is genuine, but I can’t shake this growing restlessness.

  A nurse bustles into the room, a clipboard tucked under her arm, and interrupts the building tension. “Sorry to interrupt, but I have good news. I’m processing your discharge papers!”

  Her smile lights up the room and I want to hide away in my dark shell. I clasp the sheets in my sweaty palms. “Discharge papers?"

  “Yep. Doctor says you can go home first thing tomorrow morning. He’ll make his rounds, then write orders. After he’s done, I’ll process the final forms and then you’ll be good to go first thing. Sound good?”

  I don’t know what I want. This place is getting to me. The sounds. The smells. The lack of privacy. A nurse poking at me every hour. The idea of leaving the safety of these four walls sounds just as awful. How do I go home after this? How and when do I go back to work? How do I go back to the real world and pretend that I’m all right? I’m not fucking all right.

  I nod and reach for the clipboard. “Sounds good.”

  “So, will you be going home or will you be staying with family for a while?”

  “You’re coming home with me,” Terin says before I can respond.

  Holding the pen in mid-air, I stare up at her with relief. She somehow knows exactly what I’m thinking.

  “At least for the first night. We’ll stay up late and talk, or you can go to bed early. Whatever you want. After a day or two we’ll figure out when and if you want to go home. Okay?”

  “Okay.” I sign the forms, then stare out the window as the nurse mindlessly reads through a series of preliminary instructions for care. A flux of thoughts and feelings ebb and flow throughout my body. I can’t decide which emotion I’m experiencing from one moment to the next. I’m afraid. I’m angry. I’m ambivalent. I’m numb. I’m agitated. I’m thin air.

  I’m about to leave the hospital and return to society. Then what?

  ***

  Morning comes after a restless night. I don’t have to look into a mirror to know dark bags reside under my eyes. I feel the puffiness with every blink against dry, scratchy eyes. Restless agitation fills my body. My stomach growls.

  Terin strolls through the door with two to-go latte cups, one in each hand, and a tentative smile on her lips. She has a brown paper sack tucked under her arm. “Coffee, my friend. And pumpkin bread. Your favorite.”

  I offer a forced smile. “Thanks.”

  Her grin wanes as she sets both coffees down and sits on the foot of my bed. “Hey, I know you’re not feeling all that great and it’s completely understandable, but the nurses tell me you aren’t eating.”

  Avoiding her direct gaze, I look toward the coffees. “I’ve had a few bites here and there. I’m just not all that hungry yet.”

  "Yeah, well, as your best friend, I don’t give a crap. You need to eat. From what I’ve been told, it’s likely been since I saw you last Friday, before you went missing, that you ate much of anything. So, just humor me and eat a few bites of this pumpkin bread. Okay?” She holds the bread out directly in front of her, elbow locked with determination.

  I don’t want to fucking eat. Without saying a word, I hold out my hand and wait for her to pass the bag over. My mouth waters as I peel open the bag. My body clearly needs the nutrition. I’m not sure why the idea of food repulses me.

  I nibble at the soft bread. It’s moist and rich in flavor. It crumbles perfectly with each subsequent bite. It’s simultaneously delicious and disgusting. I fight the urge to gag. Terin and I sit in silence. After a quarter of it is gone, I slip the remainder inside the bag.

  Terin purses her lips with disapproval. “Well, it’s not much, but it’s better than nothing, I guess.”

  I nod. A scream tickles the back of my throat, itching to let loose into the sterile hospital room.

  “Today is the day. I’m bailing you out of this joint! Isn’t that great?”

  Hopeful desperation. She so badly wants me to talk to her. Respond in any way, but it’s too much effort. I just want to close my eyes and drift away. A long pause fills the room. Her eyes flit about nervously, attempting to focus on something, before finally landing on the coffee. She picks one up and sips carefully. Her tone is timid when she speaks again.

  “Tess?”

  “Yes?”

  “That night at the club. Why did you leave? I looked for you for a while, and at first I thought maybe you snuck off with Tom somewhere, but then I saw him again later, dancing with a few different women, so I assumed you left. But you don’t usually leave me like that. I called but you didn’t answer your phone. I should have come looking for you…I’m sorry…”

  That night, the music, and alcohol, flood back. I close my eyes and lay back on the pillow. Please stop asking me questions. “Don’t do that to yourself. It’s not your fault. I was with Tom. For a bit. We argued. So I headed home.”

  “You and Tom argued?”

  I can’t do this right now. Opening my eyes, I stare up at the ceiling. “Can you do me a favor?”

  She perks up. “Of course. What do you need?”

  I raise my head off the pillow so I can look at her straight on. “Can you go to my apartment and grab some clothes? If I’m going to get out of this place, I’ll need something to wear. I’ll call ahead and get the manager to open the door for you.”

  “Yeah, yeah, sure. No problem.”

  “Now?”

  Her facial muscles relax, transforming her anxious smile into recognition and hurt. She knows I’m trying to get rid of her. I don’t care. I need space.

  “Umm, sure.” She stands and stares down at me awkwardly before finally turning away. She pauses in the doorway and turns. “I have a few other things to do while I’m out, but it shouldn’t take me too long. I’ll be back in a few hours. That work?”

  Yes, fine. Just leave. “Sounds good.”

  The door closes quietly behind her and I sink into the bed with relief. I just want to be left alone. Is that too much to ask? Everyone has questions but I don’t have answers. I close my eyes and concentrate on letting the tension out of my body. The sound of the door opening jerks me right back. Muscles rigid, my eyes open and focus on the person entering my room.

  I blink, wondering if I’ve drifted off to sleep and I’m dreaming.

  “Tom? What are you doing here?”

  He steps into the room and quietly pulls the door closed behind him before facing me with a gentle, almost nervous smile. “I heard what happened on the news and I had to come see you for myself. I had to know if you were okay.”

  My heart skips a beat and a thin layer of sweat breaks out over my already sensitive skin. I want to hide under
the covers. “I…umm…I’m surprised to see you here after the…”

  He holds a hand up and steps forward. “I know, I know. I’m sorry about that. I really am. I don’t know what came over me. I had too much to drink, I guess. That’s one of the reasons I came. To apologize. It’s just that you looked so good. I got carried away.”

  Doubt writhes like snakes in my belly, warning me of lies and betrayal. I remember the way he tastes in my mouth, warm and salty. His assault was only the beginning of my nightmare that evening. Somehow, I feel he is to blame, though that is ridiculous. It was my fault for falling all over him like a lovesick schoolgirl. Nausea wells up and threatens to bring up the pumpkin bread.

  He pauses, his brows pinched together as if he’s contemplating his next move. “Speaking of the other night…what did you tell the police?”

  My brows furrow, reflecting my mirrored confusion. “Tell the police about what?”

  “About me. And you. That night. Do they know we were together that night?”

  I pull myself up in bed so I’m able to look into his face better. “I haven’t said anything about you at all, Tom. It’s not exactly something I want people to know.”

  His shoulders relax. “Okay, good. I was afraid they’d want to talk to me and ask me a bunch of questions.”

  “Even if they did, what would it matter?”

  He shrugs and looks toward the ground sheepishly, a gesture that seems forced. “Oh, well, it wouldn’t. I guess. I just don’t know what to expect. I wasn’t sure what you’d tell them about me, or us. This whole thing is just unbelievable. Frightening.”

  “Don’t worry about your reputation, Tom. I’m sure it’s still intact.”

  “That’s not what I’m saying, Tessa,” he says defensively, his eyes meeting mine once again. “I just wanted to know what you told them so I was prepared for them if they wanted to talk to me. That’s all. I really am sorry about what you went through.”

  A million different responses run through my mind simultaneously. I sit silent and wish I could say even just one of them, but they all fight for attention.