Chapter Twenty
Ruby
Do I hurt? No. Am I angry? f-uck, yeah.
I’m exhausted when I arrive for my shift the next morning, I spent the night awake replaying Jem’s kiss and trying to figure out what the hell he meant by it. Jem said no games and he’s playing the biggest one of all. I touch my mouth, firing the memory back through. Nobody’s ever kissed me with the passion Jem did, and I’ve never kissed anybody back with a desire that matches theirs. I avoided kissing Dan unless I had no choice; I could stay disconnected from him that way.
Jem Jones kissed me like he meant it, as if he wanted me. Then seconds later, he kicked me to one side. Did he get what he wanted and then decide I’m not as attractive as he thought once he touched me? Or did he wake up to the fact the whole situation is complicated and wrong? The door to trusting Jem I’d opened is slammed shut, and now the key’s hidden. So he’s worried my situation with Dan might f-uck up the band? Newsflash, Jem Jones, you did.
No, I don’t hurt, it’s worse than that. I ache more than any physical or emotional pain Dan ever caused, my heart rent into pieces. With Dan, I was numb. With Jem, I feel everything.
After my morning shift, I call Jax and tell him I’m too sick to get to the studio this afternoon and spend the time I would’ve been with the band hiding under the duvet in my room. Is Dan right? Am I not worth anything to people? Am I that broken? Dan’s words circle my head, every cruel thing he’s ever said. Nobody would be interested in me. I’m worthless. I don’t deserve to be loved.
I didn’t expect Jem to fall in love with me but it’s clear I invested too much of my self-esteem into his approval, not just for the band but also for myself.
So how can I blame Jem? This is all my fault; it always is.
Evening arrives and I have to face the world again. I shower and dress for work, paint on my disguise. The shift is a blur, my usual poor customer service skills worse than ever. I spill drinks, slide food off plates, and end up reprimanded after a customer hears me call her something unpleasant under my breath.
Ten p.m. and I’m out. The August air is thick with moisture; the horrible breathable weather has hung around all this week. I hope it breaks soon because the oppressive humidity doesn’t help my mood - or my ability to sleep. My phone beeps and I freeze in the cafe doorway in case it’s Dan.
Jax checking up on me.
I send back a bright and breezy text informing him I’ll be at the studio in the morning and he replies with a smiley face. I’m not sure I will, or if I can face Jem yet. My head’s a mess.
Jax forgot to meet me again tonight. Steeling myself, I head between the buildings that run from the street the cafe’s on to the place where I park my car. I imagine the boys are at The Lion’s Head. Will Jem be with them for once?
Get out of my f-ucking head, Jem. I touch my mouth, pissed off I keep pulling out memories of his lips, his clean scent and the sensation of his rough cheek against mine; the way my body begged to meld with his. Be his. Why did I do it?
Someone slams into me from behind, knocking my breath and I stumble. Pain seers my scalp as my hair is yanked back and I’m pushed headfirst into a wall. Before I can put my arms out to stop, the rough brick scrapes my forehead.
Solid, hard muscle pins me to the wall, the overpowering smell of familiar deodorant. “You shouldn’t ignore me.”
“Dan,” I gasp. Survival mode kicks in and Tuesday comes back. “Sorry. I’ll talk now.”
Grabbing my hair, he pulls and slams my head against the wall. The stars are back and prettier than ever. This time the night sky comes with them, the darkness clouding my vision.
“I’m over talking to you. I’ve given you everything. I f-ucking loved you and look at what you did!” His voice is low and his breath smells of strong liquor.
“You don’t do this to people you love,” I say hoarsely. “You don’t hurt them.”
“Yeah, well I don’t love you anymore. I know you’re f-ucking Jem Jones. Or Jax. Maybe both, you stupid whore. Do you know how much it hurts that you treated me like this? You deserve to feel the pain I f-ucking feel.”
Hurt him?
I slide down the wall, cheek scraping along the bricks and crumple to the paved ground. Instinctively, I cover my head. He has a pattern. My ribs will take the next beating. Then my head. If I know what’s coming I can tick them off the list in my mind until it’s finished.
When Dan kicks me in the side, all I can think is I’m glad he’s wearing trainers. The pain radiates along my ribs and I clench my teeth, refusing to cry out.
I won’t fight back.
I’ll wait.
My response to the kicking isn’t enough; Dan stops, kneels on the floor, and pushes his hands around my neck. This isn’t his usual order of attack. My head spins through pain and lack of oxygen; above me, Dan’s face is a darkened mask and his hollow eyes are disengaged.
“Dan. You’re leaving marks. People will know,” I gasp, putting my hands over his.
“Like I f-ucking care.” He lets go and hits my face, open palmed against my injured cheek and I wince, tears forcing their way into my eyes. “This is over. If we’re over, then you’re over.” His voice echoes, distant in my sky.
I attempt to pull back from the stars. Dan’s threat is real. The ferocity of his attack is uncontrolled. We’re not hidden at his house. This is in public but he’s launching a harder punishment than he ever has before, anybody could see and he doesn’t care.
Dan grabs my t-shirt and drags me into a sitting position. Squatting down so his face is against mine, he speaks. I don’t hear or respond and my teeth jar as he shakes me, the pain in my head intense. Another smack in the face and my lip stings as the skin splits.
He lets go and I slump back to the ground. “You hit my head too much,” I mumble. “I won’t be conscious. You want to do this when it hurts me.”
Dan pauses, and my heart thumps in my ears as I struggle for energy to get away from him. My heavy head won’t coordinate my body and all I want to do is lie here and wait for this to be over. Will I ever escape him? Or does this end now? When I was a little girl, monsters in the dark never scared me. When I grew up, I learned the worst are the ones who live in the bright part of my life. They trick. They lie. They hurt.
“Jesus f-ucking Christ!” A voice yells in the distant dark and the face of the monster who’s eaten away at my life is gone, as Dan reels sideways. A third person is with us and the two figures land on the ground beside me.
I roll onto my side and attempt to focus through the dim of the world. A man kneels on Dan’s chest and lifts his arm, thumping Dan so hard I hear the crack of bone. The fear trembles through my body; I vomit, the familiar metallic taste of blood on my lips. The second man remains on top of Dan, pinning him down with a knee on Dan’s throat. He turns to me, but I already know who it is.
“Ruby, are you okay?”
Jem. Words won’t come as I struggle to stay in the reality I was trying to push away.
“Ruby!” he repeats more urgently.
Dan shifts, struggling against Jem. “You piece of f-ucking shit!” Jem snarls. “What the f-uck have you done to her?” Jem grabs Dan by the shirt and drags his face toward him. “I should f-ucking kill you.”
The world is sideways, everything at the wrong angle and I’m unsure it’ll ever be upright again. Throwing Dan back again, Jem rains blows with a ferocity to match that of Dan to me a few minutes ago. Dan has his face covered against Jem’s fists and I want to yell stop, but I don’t; a vengeful part wants Dan to feel some of the hurt he caused me. I watch as Dan weakens, not fighting back. Not once. He lies and takes the attack the way I did for so many months.
Closing my eyes, I smile at the stars and my brother who’s by the second star to the right. My Peter Pan who’ll never grow up now and never be in my life again.
Now I have Jem Jones, the man who doesn’t want to take care of or protect me as my rescuer. And I bet he f-ucking hates it.
****
Jem
Ruby’s face is a mess.
I’m a mess.
Why am I involved?
Guilt took me to meet Ruby after work tonight, I wanted to persuade her to come back to the studio tomorrow. I feel like shit about what I did to her last night, and I’ve battled with the chaos of thoughts in my head. If she meant nothing, I wouldn’t have stopped at a kiss because the physical satisfaction of sex with her would’ve been my goal. The problem is, in a screwed up way, the jolt of life to my emotions led me to hurt her because I didn’t want to hurt her. I don’t understand my own logic.
Ruby had left work by the time I arrived at the café and I’ve no idea what made me scout around in case she was nearby but I did. I’m f-ucking glad fate sent me there.
I’ve been involved in a fair few fights in my time and spent too many years solving arguments with my fists, but what I witnessed when I walked around the corner is beyond anything I’ve seen.
Time stopped when Ruby didn’t reply, the fear for her safety intensifying my need to smash the fucker’s face in.
How can anybody do that to a woman? Or anybody? He behaved like a f-ucking animal so I treated him like one. When I realised I might’ve seriously injured him, I didn’t give a shit; a raw anger had me gripped out of control. I wanted to kill him. Only now do I realise how lucky I am I stopped. For a couple of minutes I was sure I had killed him; he didn’t move or make a sound when I held the trembling Ruby in my arms. The fury intensified as I sat on the ground with her, not knowing what the f-uck to do next.
By the time I calmed myself enough to help Ruby away, Dan groaned and shifted but didn’t sit and for a split second I thought: I’ll try harder next time.
Next time.
No way.
This shit stops now.
Ruby sits at the table in my dining room staring at the bowl of water and facecloth I put in front of her. Medical supplies aren’t a staple in my house - I don’t even have any Band-Aids. Uselessly, I hover, head aching from the range of emotions dragged through my system in the past twenty-four hours.
Ruby doesn’t speak. Hasn’t spoken since she yelled at me for threatening to take her to hospital.
“I’m going to call a doctor,” I tell her.
She turns her battered face to me and I can’t tell if her eyes are red because she’s been crying or from the mess the fucker made of them.
“Call Jax.”
“You want Jax?”
Ruby puts her head in her hands then drops them, gingerly touching her face. Her loose red hair hangs forward, disguising her expression. “Yes.”
Something strange clutches my chest, an old emotion joining the others. Rejection. But I helped her?
“What do you want me to say to him?” I cross my arms.
“He can come pick me up. You don’t have to be involved.”
“I am involved. I just beat the crap out of a guy for you.”
“For me?” She laughs softly.
“Why’s that funny?”
“Nothing. We’re a bit fucked now, with this lip I doubt my singing will be up to par.”
Her words echo mine from yesterday. “This isn’t the right time to talk about the band. Probably not the right time for you to talk about anything.”
“Yeah.”
She’s pale and the amount Dan beat her around the head worries me. “But I think you need to see a doctor.”
“No!”
Or the police, but I’ll save that suggestion until she’s calmer. “What if you’re concussed? Aren’t you supposed to stay awake or something? Are you sleepy?”
Ruby drags her hair from her eyes. “Your concern is touching. I’m fine, I’m not concussed.”
“How do you know that?”
Staring straight at me, Ruby says, “He gave me concussion before. I know the difference.”
Rejection. Frustration. Heart-rending pain for this girl. I can’t respond and return to the kitchen where I can hide how I feel. My knuckles are swollen and I grab ice from the fridge. I should get Ruby ice too. Should I? I throw the door shut and grip my hair. I don’t know what the f-uck to do. Liv’s pain and abuse was before I knew her; Ruby’s is current and in my face, her blood smeared on my blue shirt.
“Did you call Jax yet?”
Lost in the memories of Liv, I’m unaware of Ruby joining me in the kitchen. The bright halogen light illuminates the darkening and torn skin across her forehead and the caking blood on her cheek.
“No.” I touch her face, a small space my fingers can fit without brushing her injury. “I’m not going to.”
She takes my hand and moves it from her face. Ruby’s fingers are ice cold despite the warmth of the evening and I curl mine around them, refusing to let her go.
“Why?” she asks.
“Stay here. You’re safe here.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?” She doesn’t answer but I know why: because of last night. Because I fucked this up. “Besides, Jax is probably drunk somewhere, or in bed with whatever her name was.”
Ruby huffs. “Yeah.”
But she wants Jax, not me.
“Stay here. Tomorrow we talk about what we need to, Ruby.” I rub my fingertip across her cheek and she closes her eyes.
“I doubt I’ll be doing much else.”
Oh, yes you will. You’ll be going to the police and sorting this. Then I can step back.