The Good Sister (24 page)

“Nothing to do with it? I should have been different. Stronger. Better. You know that, Noah. You know in your heart, I should have left him. The day he came back for me, you were there. Right there. All I had to do was say, ‘Noah, I can’t go with him.’ And I knew even then, you would have helped me. You would have helped me like you did Tessa. But instead… I pushed you away and followed him like the good little girl I always tried to be with him. I did exactly as he said. Always. That was my fault.”

“That’s a load of bullshit. That is something
he
needed for you to believe. He totally and completely mind-fucked you, along with everything else he did. I saw it. The moment he walked into the clinic, you instantly became his helpless victim. Tell me, Lindsey, what were some of the things he said he’d do to you if you ever left him?

She bit her lip and shook her head, pressing her hands to her temples. They were pounding.  “No. No, I don’t want to talk about that. Or any of this.”

“I don’t either. But, I can’t let this go any further. Too soon or not, I can’t let you keep thinking you somehow deserved this, or that it’s your own fault. Read the literature! Read the statistics! Read how your reaction was normal, and not an anomaly. And start by telling me what he threatened to do to you.”

She stared hard at the countertop. It was black granite with swirls of mauve and beige that looked like veins winding through the solid color. “Lindsey? Please. Start there. Tell me what he put in your head, what he promised he’d do to you. He’s not here. He can’t hear you. He can’t see you. He cannot get to you. He will never know what you say to me. Never. You are completely safe to talk to me.”

She stared at her fingertips while she picked at one, then another, and another. Finally, she mumbled, “He told me almost every time he hit me, that if I ever left him, he would hunt me down. He said there was nowhere I could go, nowhere I could hide, and that he wouldn’t stop searching until he found me. Whether it was now, or years from now. He promised he’d find me. He would never forget me. He would never forgive me. And he would never, ever let me go. He also swore he would hurt anyone who tried to help me.”

“What did he say he’d do to you?”

“Everything. Nothing. I don’t know. It was different every time he threatened me. It was his psycho ramblings and perverse fantasies. He said he would shoot me, stab me, gut me, and beat me until I couldn’t see or walk again. He would seal me up in a room and never let me out.”

Noah’s breath faltered. “He locked you up?”

“Sometimes.”

“I don’t know what you went through. I don’t pretend to know. I just know it wasn’t your fault. Not one time. Not one hit. Not one kick.”

“I could have left when it first started.”

He shook his head again. “It’s not your fault.”

“It is,” she whispered, dropping her chin to her chest.

His hand touched her shoulder. His voice became softer and he chanted, “It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault. It—is—not—your—fault.”

He repeated the statement to her over and over as his tone started to rise. He turned her face to his and his eyes looked different. Suddenly, he wasn’t being so nice or unsure, and he wasn’t the awkward Noah. His voice was insistent, commanding, and completely confident in what he said. The conviction with which he spoke was not to be doubted. Tears leaked over her eyelids and rolled down her cheeks. She choked and lowered her head as her shoulders started to convulse before dropping her face into her hands. His words… they meant everything to her. They were exactly what she needed. What she wanted to cling to. What she wanted to believe.

But she didn’t know how.

His arms came around her. She should have flung him off. She didn’t want to be touched. She didn’t like to be touched. But the pain was too much and she couldn’t take it anymore. She couldn’t shoulder it alone. Not without the pills. Not with the threat of Elliot catching her. She used to avoid feeling any of it, when at any moment Elliot could walk into any room of the house and find her. That was simply unacceptable. So she didn’t cry. She rarely acknowledged what she felt in her heart. Her emotions were so locked away, she didn’t even know what they were anymore. They ceased to exist sometimes. The tears hurt her throat. They burned and choked her, making her mouth, her eyes, even her ears feel like they were about to explode. There was so much to feel, too many emotions at once. All from his simple words. Stupid words. Obvious words. Of course it wasn’t her fault she had her stomach kicked in. Or cigarettes burned into her back. Or the puncture wounds in her stomach from where Elliot stabbed her with a dinner fork. Elliot preferred doing things to her that were never obvious to outsiders. There were no telltale signs of abuse like multiple broken bones or unexplained bruises. And of course, that was not her doing either. But… wasn’t some of it, any of it, her fault?

No
. He kept whispering it to her. She was hunched over, her arms across her chest, squeezing her sides and he was all around her, bear-hugging her, as his mouth went right next to her ear. He rocked her gently, and quietly kept saying over and over again, “
It’s not your fault.”

A scream tried to claw its way out of her chest, like a small, wild animal being taken down by a predator. There was so much inside her. Her gut churned and hurt, but all the while, he told her, “
It wasn’t your fault.”

What if it really wasn’t her fault? What if she could find forgiveness inside herself for staying there? For not walking away sooner. For not saving herself. What if she could blame Elliot?

Noah held her for five minutes, ten minutes, then longer. She didn’t know. She never cried this long, or so freely before. Not in all the years or after any of the beatings. Even during the times when he left her locked in their bedroom, before he had the special closet for her. She never could cry much more than a few tears, because tears always incited Elliot’s wrath. It made his temper fly up another level.

She did cry the first few times Elliot hurt her. That was before she learned the less emotional distress she expressed, the safer she was. And the sooner Elliot calmed down and forgave her. Sometimes they could go for a few days, or even weeks without any harm befalling her. So she learned how to shut it all away. She buried it in a small chamber of her heart that forbade her from feeling it. She never tried to retrieve it. She was as cold and emotionless as a sociopath and sometimes feared she was turning into one. But now, here with Noah, she could cry. He managed to open something inside her that she thought was long dead. She thought she forgot how to cry. Yet, here she was, after being so touched by his simple words chanted over and over and over.
It wasn’t her fault
.

She finally turned her head into his chest. He stood still next to her, holding her and encircling her with his arms. His large hand stroked her head, almost petting her like a cat, as he patted her shoulder, and kept his hand clumsily on her hair, stroking it over and over. It was the most affection she received in five years. She often hugged Jessie and Will. But other than that, she never felt true softness, kindness, or affection since she married Elliot Johanson. His idea of affection was holding and grabbing her wherever he wanted. Or putting her head in the position he chose so he could kiss or move her body however he wanted it for sex. Never, not once, did Elliot try to comfort her. Or soothe her. Or just be a man, a human being, holding his mate with kindness and care.

He murmured into her ear using a tone that was both soft and calming, which registered a sense of caring more than the actual words he said. He finally gripped her shoulders and pulled her fully toward him as he put his arms around her in a heartfelt hug. He held her next to his body, and tried to absorb her tears as well as her shaking, shivering, and convulsing with gut-wrenching emotions. He held her and cared for her, protecting her. His body’s warmth served to thaw her frostbitten, numb soul as well as physically warming her. His chest felt her shaking as he gladly provided her with the physical comfort she never knew. Not from her father, nor from Elliot. And they were essentially the only two men who were in her life. Will was her brother-in-law, and although she knew he would always care for her, she couldn’t let him. He had to take care of Jessie. Since Lindsey was to blame for so much of what Jessie suffered, Jessie needed all of Will to make up for that. That left him no room for concern to waste on Lindsey. Besides, she didn’t deserve it. There was never anyone who held her, and cared for her and let her cry while assuring her it wasn’t her fault. Until Noah.

She finally slid off the stool and stood on her trembling legs, before stretching her arms fully up around Noah’s neck. He pulled her body against him and she drew in a sharp breath. It was shocking to be next to a man who wasn’t Elliot. Noah was tall, and lanky, so naturally, his body felt completely different. His long arms encircled her, with his hands resting on her waist as she buried her face into his shirt. Then she clutched his shirt in her hands, fisting them as if he were her lifeline and the only one who could hold all the broken, confused parts of her psyche together.

Finally, after minutes, (or hours?), she had no idea of time anymore; but after what seemed like forever, when she felt like every ounce of moisture had been drained from her body, her choking, blinding tears slowed down and she could finally manage to take in deep, long, cleansing breaths to stop them. She began to calm her racing blood and the incessant ringing in her head.

She kept her head pressed against his chest, feeling suddenly so exhausted with fatigue, she couldn’t muster the strength to even lift it up. She whispered softly, “Why did you come for me? You don’t deserve this.”

He was quiet for a long moment and she felt his lungs inhaling a deep breath. His large, warm, gentle hand came up to cup the side of her head. “No one who had a heart would leave you in that situation. No one with an ounce of humanity would think you deserved this.”

The tears instantly started to fall again. It was if he uncapped the dam in a bottomless lake and she could not find any way to hold back the waterworks any longer.

Lowering his lips to her hair, he whispered, “And also because I might be in love with you.”

She jerked back and her entire body went rigid. No. He could not mean that. He must not say that. He could not love her. He first met her as someone so unlike the decimated rag doll she embodied today, how could he even stand to look at her? Let alone, say he had sincere feelings for her? It must have been sympathy. He was so decent, way too decent; he was mistaking his sympathy and unbridled compassion for something more. Something real. Something important. He could not possibly love her. She had not been loveable for five years. Maybe for her entire life. She cowardly followed the oddly strict regimen of her father and shunned her own sister who was being abused by the very man she utterly revered. She then married a man who was a clone of her father. So why should she deserve the real love of a decent man? Let alone, a man like Noah Clark? He was everything, moral, noble and wonderful. She fondly remembered what he did for Tessa: letting a woman with her six children move into his house simply because he didn’t know another way to help them. He worked diligently at an important, respected profession. He was always polite to women. He was kind to animals. His family was fun to be around and very warm toward her. He had everything going for him. What could he possibly be thinking if he believed his unsolicited sympathy for her could possibly ever be love?

She stared up into his eyes and he stared right back. His gaze was more intense and serious in ways she had never witnessed before. She froze. Everything in her seemed paralyzed. Even her grief. Her heart almost stopped beating. She was sure of it. Even her breath changed and she shook her head, turning her face away.

He again put his knuckle to her chin and gently lifted her face to his, causing shivers on her sensitive skin. Tenderness. To be touched with such gentle, softness and kindness got her knees trembling again. He felt her body shifting off balance and tightened his grip under her arm to hold her up. She shook her head. No. He must be mistaken. She was his biggest mistake of all. Her entire life and personality were turning out to be a mistake. She kept shaking her head.

Meanwhile, he simply kept nodding yes, and his lips curved into a slow, small smile.

Then her heart flipped over in her chest as her stomach churned. He really seemed to think he loved her?

“You don’t have to say anything. It isn’t the right time for this. I know that, Lindsey. I don’t expect anything from you. It’s just… you asked me why I came. I don’t feel like evading you. I don’t feel like lying to you. You might be in shock and injured, or in need of something I can’t give you, but I will not withhold the truth from you anymore.”

The truth. Elliot often said such statements to her. That was how he explained his actions after hitting, kicking, pushing, pinning, and having rough sex with her; that he simply had to show her the truth. She was wrong and he was right: learning the truth was her punishment.

But she knew Elliot’s idea of truth was not the same as Noah’s. She nearly giggled with relief at the realization perhaps she was
not
as screwed up and broken as she previously assumed, since she could still discriminate between the vast difference in Elliot’s definition of truth and Noah’s. Quite simply, Noah was genuinely honest and his integrity practically oozed from him. He could speak the real truth. Elliot, on the other hand, called the truth whatever lies he could tell  to justify his continuous torture. She knew the difference between lies and truth; and she knew lying was wrong. She did realize that. What she found hardest to swallow was that she was not in some way to blame. Having put herself
there,
she gave herself to Elliot, and made her body physically available for him to use and abuse. There were all kinds of reasons, as the statistics attested, why she and others stayed, but no excuse could justify it. Nor ever change it.