Winning Back Ryan (37 page)

             
My eyes searched the counter for any knives, but I kept it devoid of anything save the coffee maker. The pot was out of reach from this position, so I couldn’t splash it on Ryan’s face. The coffee gurgled as it finished percolating my chocolate flavored coffee. Ryan’s fingers traced the outline of my bra. His hands finally left me….Thank God….as fresh tears made their way down my cheeks. I heard the sound of his jeans unzip and realized that was why his hands left my body. Suddenly, fury took over me, and thawed out the ice in my body, instead boiling my blood.

             
I screamed at the top of my lungs channeling my rage as I smashed the heel of my shoe into his foot. I jabbed him in both ribs hard, then head butted him as hard as I possibly could. He stumbled backwards, hitting into the other kitchen counter. I took his abandoned beer bottle and smashed it over his head. He dropped to the ground, screaming profanities, his hands moving to his head. I began kicking him viciously in the back. He tried to move away from me and get back up, but I realized that I needed to keep him there and unable to yank me down with him.

             
It wasn’t enough though and he was too strong, coming up way too fast. He grabbed my legs out from underneath me, lifting me up with him, and I found myself slammed against my upper kitchen cabinets, my butt now on the countertop. He backhanded me across the face. He wore a ring and the room spun as I felt blood start trickling down my cheek. Come on, Anne, keep it together. Don’t let him win. Think.

             
I could smell the coffee calling to me, and I reached my hand out to grab the pot, smashing it and the hot coffee against the side of his head. He screamed as the glass shattered against him, scalding liquid burning him, and I brought my arm up to keep my face from being burned as well. I kicked him hard in the stomach and he fell backwards into the opposite kitchen counter.  I didn’t have enough time to get away before Ryan pulled his arm back, punching me in the right eye. My head slammed back into the cabinet, and I could feel my eyelid begin to swell, blurring my vision. He looked furious. “You’re going to leave me?” he spat the words at me, “I don’t think so.”

             
I clenched my fist. “Believe it, you son of a bitch. I’ll go down fighting.” I yanked the drawer open beneath me, and pulled out a utensil, I have no idea what, and threw it at him. It missed, but distracted him long enough so that I could lunge at him, ramming my elbow straight into his face. I picked up two more beer bottles sitting on that counter, and broke both over his head at the same time. With the one broken long neck, I shoved its jagged edges as hard as I could into his stomach. He finally fell to the ground with a gasp, clutching his stomach.

Only two truths existed for me in that moment as I was brought to a place of pure animal instinct.  Ryan needed to stay down, and I needed to stay alive.  No matter the cost.

              I was afraid that he was going to get back up, considering that Ryan was strong and could take a hit. He was too busy on the defensive to hit back, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t strike out at me soon. Despite the alcohol making his reflexes slower, it also dulled his pain. I was afraid punching him wouldn’t be enough to keep him down. So, I did the only option I felt that I had left. I ran like hell.

             
As I sprinted down the hallway screaming at the top of my lungs, I found myself strangely thinking about how glad I was that I now ran with Brian every day. No way could I have sprinted at this pace before while yelling. No one was coming out of their apartments, however, and I assumed everyone on this floor was either sleeping or already at work. My heart pounded in my chest so fiercely that I could hear it in my ears as I leapt down each flight of stairs faster than I had ever moved in my life. I didn’t sigh in relief when my feet touched the ground floor and the apartment building door was in sight. I still ran as if he was chasing me. For all I knew, he was. Sunlight warmed my already overheated skin and without thought, I turned left and ran down the sidewalk screaming for help, my open shirt flapping as I ran.

             
I saw him then a block away, and I had never in my life been more relieved to see anyone in my entire life. He felt like a godsend at that moment.  Ben had just parked the car, tossed coins into the meter, and ashed his cigarette onto the side walk. With his butt now pressed between his lips, he strolled down the sidewalk towards my apartment building, his eye caught by a scantily dressed woman walking by in the opposite direction.

             
“Ben,” I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Help me!” When he didn’t hear me, I screamed again, “Ben!”

             
My second shout caught his attention, and he looked at me barreling towards him with my upper body on full display for Hoboken. I watched him staring at me in complete and utter shock, his eyes wide. As his mouth opened wide, the cigarette butt fell from his lips, landing on the cement sidewalk beneath him. I didn’t stop running until I slammed against his body, and he took a faltering step backwards before bracing both our weights. He steadied me by bracing my arms as a hundred questions ran through his eyes simultaneously.

             
“What the hell happened?” he asked me, glancing down at my exposed skin bewildered, then back up at my eyes. I blinked, staring at him. He held my arms tightly and forced eye contact.  “Annie, I don’t give a shit what you did. But, you need to tell me the truth, so I can cover it up,” he explained low in my ear. I barely understood the words from my heart still pounding loudly in my ears. I blinked again, staring at him quizzically. He wanted to protect me by covering up what I did? Shouldn’t he be pissed at me for ruining his day or dragging him into this mess? He didn’t even look annoyed. 

             
“Ryan tried to rape me. He had no idea that I wouldn’t go down without a fight.” My voice sounded hollow and distant in my ears. The fury was gone and cold emptiness washed over me, taking its place.

             
He let out a long breath, running his hand through his hair. “Okay, then we need to call the cops. Say nothing until your lawyer gets here.”

             
“But, I don’t have a-”

             
Ben cut me off. “I’ll take care of it.”

             
He pulled out his cell phone and began dialing numbers as I stood there listening to him call the Hoboken police while I wrapped the ends of my open shirt around me, trying to cover up. As I listened to him calling the police, I stood there with my arms around my body staring at the cigarette between his feet still burning. It was oddly entrancing.

             
“Hey,” Ben finally said in a warm voice. “Annie.” I glanced up as he slid his cell phone back into his pocket and realized that I had zoned out. I had no idea how long we stood on that sidewalk. “No more buttons?”  His eyes were full of worry, anger, sympathy, frustration.  I shook my head while tears ran down my cheeks as shame and embarrassment filled me to the brink. His shirt was off faster than I could realize what he was doing as he held it out for me, encouraging me to take it. I blinked, and in my shock took the green t-shirt and slipped it on.

             
“Are you alright?” he asked, and I shook my head while more tears spilled.

             
“It’s gonna be alright, Princess, I promise,” he said as he wrapped his arm around my waist. I tuned the world out and pressed myself against his warm chest. I listened to the sound of his voice and closed my eyes as he rubbed my back in a soothing gesture. I could hear his heart beating steadily. I had never felt safer in all of my life.

             
“Please don’t leave me,” I begged him, frightened that if he left I wouldn’t feel safe again.

             
“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered in my ear.

A tear rolled down my face in relief as my fingers pressed against his chest, while I continued listening to the steady drum rhythm of his heart.

I finally heard the sound of a police siren somewhere in the background and large thudding boots.                             “Is this the victim?”

Ben pivoted his upper body towards the voice.

              “She lives down the block. Ryan, the man upstairs in her apartment attacked my friend here, trying to rape her. She was able to get away, though.”

             
I glanced up over Ben’s shoulder at the large burly police officer in his late thirties with shaved hair and cold demeanor.  He had at some point in his life had severe acne or chicken pox as deep marks scarred his cheeks. He made me uneasy, so I pressed myself into Ben even more. I blocked all the noise out as Ben was asked a few more questions that he answered.  All I knew was that wild horses couldn’t have dragged me from that spot. I didn’t know what happened after that as I kept my head buried against Ben’s warm skin, tuning the world out.

             
After however long of a time had passed, I heard a deep voice ask, “What’s her name?”

             
“Her name is Anne Watson,” Ben replied in a clear voice.

             
“Can you come over here, Anne?” I heard another voice ask.

             
Staring into Ben’s eyes I silently asked if it was safe. He nodded, and so I followed the voice and sat on a stretcher. I didn’t look at any of their faces, because I didn’t want it to be imprinted in my brain. I was afraid that once this whole horror show ended, and my normal life came back to me that I’d see one of these people out some place like at a restaurant and it would trigger memories of this day. I wanted as few neutral or bad memories- especially of strangers- connected to today as possible. They covered me in a blanket, and I pulled it up over my head. I closed my eyes beneath the warm cotton blanket, blocking out the rest of the world, not wanting to deal with it anymore.

             
I had somehow, without even asking his permission, put Ben in charge of making sure everything was okay while I tried to slip into the recesses of my mind and hide there for a while. I tucked my nose and mouth into Ben’s shirt, inhaling deeply the smell of tobacco and his natural scent. The smell of his expensive cologne did not invade my senses, which meant he must have just gotten out of bed when I called him and didn’t bother to put any on. I felt even more grateful that he had answered my call, and grateful then again for agreeing to help me, then grateful
yet again
that he hopped right into his car and drove over. I was smart enough to realize that seconds mattered in that situation, and if Ben had putzed around his apartment for a little before coming, the ending to that situation could have played out differently. I slipped my hand out, feeling for Ben’s hand. When I touched his calloused palm, he wrapped his hand around mine tightly.

             
“How was she able to do such a number on him?” I heard some voice ask. I assumed that meant they already found Ryan.

I never heard the answer as the stretcher then began to move. The truth was…I got incredibly lucky.

             
When I woke up, two pairs of eyes that I knew well stared back at me. I also heard raised whispers in the background.

             
“She’s up,” George said with Max standing next to him beside my bed. Brian and Ben then turned from their conversation, smiling at me.

             
“Hey, sweetheart,” Brian said in a soothing voice as he came over to me. My one eye still wouldn’t open. I cleaned sleep out of the other one.

             
“Ugh. I look disgusting, don’t I?” I asked, feeling embarrassed that all of my friends were seeing me like this. I felt so vulnerable.

             
“No,” Brian said in a subdued tone. “You look beautiful as always.” I snorted at his response and the tiniest of smiles spread across my lips from the ridiculousness of his statement.

             
“Annie, the lawyer is here. The cops are getting impatient. I think you should talk to him to protect yourself and then give them a statement,” Ben said.

             
“And I told you that you’re rushing her,” Brian argued back.

The one thing that I absolutely did not want was to be treated like some delicate flower who would crumble at a moment’s notice. I didn’t want to feel like a victim.

              I nodded. “Bring in the lawyer, Ben.”

             
“Annie…” Brian’s tone was half-chastising, half- worried.

             
“The world isn’t going to wait for me to be ready, Brian. The cops have other women to help, the lawyer has other clients. It needs to get done. The sooner it’s over, the sooner we can all move on with our lives.”  I drew in a huge gulp of air, trying to find the remaining bits of courage from deep within.  “Tell me he’s alive.” They all looked at each other strangely. “Just tell me that Ryan made it, please. Tell me that I didn’t kill him.”

             
Brian’s brows were drawn together as he replied, “He’s alive.”

I sighed long and h
ard, smiling. I had never felt as relieved as I did at that moment. Ben tipped his head in my direction before turning and walking out.  After a minute or so, I heard his voice first before I saw him.

             
“Hey there, kiddo, heard you were kickin’ some serious ass.”

That voice could only belong to one man.

              I glanced up in shock. “Mr. Hurley?”

He winked, briefcase in hand as he walked through the door.

              Benjamin Hurley the Third had jet black hair, pale blue eyes, and tanned skin all year round. His face was always clean-shaven, and he always wore three thousand dollar suits. He was polished from head to toe right down to his professional manicure. Between his appearance and his good looks, I wondered how many women’s panties dropped to the floor as he walked through the hospital.  He looked physically nothing like my friend, Ben, but their personalities were disturbingly similar, both foul-mouthed perverts.

He sat down in a chair next to me, while Ben hovered in the doorway.

              “The kid wants to know if he should come in or not.”

             
“If you think it’ll help,” I answered.

Ben stepped inside with a bag in hand, sitting down next to his father.  He was now wearing a neon green shirt that said:
St. Canary’s Medical Center
across the chest. The shirt was a half-size too small and the cotton stretched tightly across his pectoral, shoulder, and abdominal muscles.

             
“Sir, I don’t understand. You do real estate law,” I said to Mr. Hurley.

             
“I specialize in real estate law. That doesn’t mean that I can’t advise about criminal law. Plus, if something really tricky came up, I’m close friends with the top five criminal lawyers in the state. Ben and I thought you’d rather talk to family then to a stranger.”

             
I was surprised at his words. I’ve only met Ben’s father maybe a dozen times in the last five years. That didn’t seem like enough times for him to consider me family. But, glancing at Ben I realized the likely reason that he came. His son was now involved in this, and he was responsible for how the Hurley family was viewed publicly. If news leaked out about this, it would be great PR to be seen on the side of the victim.

             
“I’m sorry,” I stuttered, “I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful or to question your law credentials. I was just shocked to see you. But, you’re right. I’d rather you be here. This is embarrassing enough.”

             
“There’s no reason to be embarrassed,” Mr. Hurley said warmly. “From what I heard, you kicked some serious ass.”

             
“Hell yeah she did. I’m thinking about signing her up for a fighting match once we get her outta here. Winner takes home six grand,” Ben teased. They both flashed me the same broad smile- the type of smile that was so bright, it lit up their eyes.

             
Despite myself, I laughed, shaking my head. “I’ve had enough sense knocked into me for one lifetime. Thanks.”

Mr. Hurley turned towards our friends standing in the corner of the room.

              “Why don’t you guys hit the cafeteria?”

They nodded, realizing that it wasn’t a suggestion rather an order to leave.

              “I’ll be right back, honey,” Brian said in a reassuring manner.

I smiled, nodding. I didn’t explain that Ben was with me, so I didn’t feel alone or afraid. Instead, I felt grateful to Mr. Hurley for making them leave, because I didn’t want the guys to hear what actually happened, especially Brian. They didn’t need those nightmares playing through their minds.

              Ben’s father turned stoic. “I know this is rough, Annie, but the cops will be coming in soon. Are you ready to talk about this? Nothing that you say will leave this room.”

I drew in a long breath, nodding. But, as I tried to begin, the images in my head were overwhelming. A warm calloused hand took mine.

              When I opened my eyes, Ben’s honey brown eyes watched me.

             
“You’ve got this.” I didn’t understand why, but I saw in his eyes complete faith in me. I didn’t feel deserving. Mr. Hurley’s eyes moved from his son to me, then to our connected hands. He said nothing. 

             
I drew another long breath and began. Both men had mirrored expressions, completely unreadable as though they were listening to a list of facts being spoken to them, not an account of how someone they knew was attacked. After I spoke, Mr. Hurley gave me his advice.  His concern was that the police’s search of the apartment turned up a significant amount of cocaine. I told Ben and his dad that I had nothing to do with it; I had never done drugs before. He said to me that if I submitted to a drug test, I should be cleared. I agreed. Only the guilty sweated about looking innocent.

             
“The other problem,” he continued on, “was just how much the cops found.” My eyes questioned him, because his meaning hadn’t clicked in my brain yet. “They think that you were dealing drugs together.”

             
“What?” I shrieked. “I would never!” I blinked several times as I realized then what his statement meant. “Ryan was selling drugs?”

             
Mr. Hurley shook his head. “I don’t know, but they found enough for him to be charged with the intent to sell. They think that Ryan began fighting with you because you were going to ruin the business if you left. They see his attempted rape as a way to punish you.”

             
I tried to think of a way to prove my innocence, horrified at what I was hearing. I couldn’t come up with anything.

             
“Ryan freaked that I was leaving. He had always been self-conscious about his upbringing, and he just lost it when I told him that I was now with Brian. All he kept talking about was Brian’s parents’ money and how they weren’t better than him.” I scratched my forehead but winced in pain as I touched a bruise. “I don’t know why he was so fixated with the money, though. Sure, Brian’s parents are well off, but I’m pretty sure that Max’s and George’s family have more money than the Aschcrofts. I don’t know why he was so fixated on that.” I sighed in disbelief. After all of this, I could go to jail for a crime that I didn’t commit. Unbelievable. “How do I prove my innocence?”

             
Ben’s father clasped his hands before answering, “You need to give the cops access to your bank accounts, credit card statements, anything that they want to investigate.”

             
“Sure,” I answered instantaneously. “Whatever they want to look at. I can account for every penny.”

             
“Every penny?” he asked me again.

             
I snorted. “You make it sound like I make hundreds of thousands a year. I make forty- five thousand before taxes, which isn’t alot for someone living where we do. I know where every single penny goes or else I wouldn’t be able to afford it.”

             
Ben’s father simply nodded. “Good. Then give them access.”

We hashed out all other minor details then, and Ben listened in on the conversation, not placing any input into the situation.

              Ten minutes later, two cops walked in. They took my statement, making me explain what happened exactly. I told them everything, having to stop twice, crying. They made me sign a sheet of paper, telling them that everything I had said was true. Pictures were snapped, a hair follicle was taken with my permission as was a urine sample for drug testing. Ben held my hand as they drew blood because the needle was ridiculously huge. I swore it was the size of the room.

             
It was explained that they were charging Ryan with assault, attempted rape, and intent to sell cocaine, but that currently no charges were being filed against me provided I brought all of my banking information to the police within the next week. The police admitted to me that the likelihood of proving the charges against Ryan would be tough for attempted rape, but that the assault charges would be far easier to prove in court. Ryan would likely only go to jail for the drugs and for the assault. If he entered a plea bargain, rolling over on his supplier, he may never see jail time. I was disgusted and appalled that a man who purchased an illegal substance and then consumed it in the privacy of his own home would go to jail longer than a man who tried to use his body as a weapon against a woman. If that wasn’t a hard punch to the gut, then I didn’t know what was.

             
“Listen, I don’t care what you need to do, but you have to nail that SOB’s balls to the wall,” I told the cops. “He needs to serve time and get counseling.” I rubbed my forehead trying to explain as the Hurleys stood supportively at the right side of my bed. “This isn’t about revenge and me wanting him to pay. But, he and I were together for years, and he attacked me without even blinking an eye. If he could do that to me, then I have no doubt what he would do to some unsuspecting woman in a club or bar. If he doesn’t serve time, he’ll think he got away with it and that there’s no penalty for trying to rape or assault a woman. The guilt would kill me if he does this to another woman. I have to do whatever necessary to keep him in jail.”

             
The cops sighed wearily, and I wondered just how many times they had heard this speech already from victims. I wondered idly what kind of a soul you needed to have to do this type of work day in and out. It certainly wasn’t for the faint of heart.

             
“If this happens again in the future, it is not your fault,” the one cop told me, “but, a lot of times this is out of our hands. All we can do is make a recommendation to the prosecutor and hope he listens.”

             
I had never felt more deflated in my life, and Mr. Hurley placed a supportive hand on my shoulder. They ordered an emergency protective order for me. In ten days’ time, I could file for a permanent restraining order. It gave me little comfort. Men like Ryan didn’t care for rules or for doing what was right; they did whatever they wanted. The restraining order felt little more than a piece of paper, in essence worthless. They took my information after I told them that I would be staying with Brian and left.

             
A minute later, Brian and the guys entered the room again. The timing was a little too perfect, which led me to believe that they had been standing outside the room, listening in. I hoped they hadn’t heard much. They walked back in smiling a little too brightly for the situation, and I had to keep it together. I needed a few minutes with Ben though…. We needed a heart-to-heart. As Brian made his way over to the bed, his eyes zoned in on our hands holding. He looked up, smiling tightly at me. Ben saw my boyfriend’s reaction and let go of my hand, taking a few steps back.

             
“Guys would you mind going to get me some coffee?” I asked Brian.

             
“Sure, we’ll go down and get you one at the cafeteria,” Brian replied quickly.

             
I shook my head. “No, I really really would love one of those ice mocha latte frozen thingies that I love. There’s has to be a coffeehouse in the nearby area.” I tried to give my best smile. “Please?”