Twisted Choice

Alone

I slide into his passenger seat, Jessica's eyes still on us both the whole time. Her eyes alight with some fairtail romance idea she has in her head. But this isn't a romance. This is a tragedy.

If we were to get together, massive IF! What would our get-together story be when people ask how we met? Oh, he rescued me from near death after he found me brutally attacked in an alleyway outside his club? Then, the inevitable questions that are to follow, making me rehash a story I dont even remember. I suppose we could always lie.

We just met at his club. Not a total lie just misses out all the chappy details. As stories go, that's good enough for me. Most people meet at work these days anyway.

'What's your address?' James interrupts my random thoughts. Oh shoot, I forgot I hadn't told him.

'14 beck close, Elvington' I reply, York had been my home all my life. I loved where I lived in was close enough to the city for work, and far enough away that it was a nice place for the kids to grow up.

York was beautiful, cobbled streets and old buildings, everything I love about being British. Except, of course, the rising crime. But as they say, that is what its like everywhere these days. No matter where you live, there's always going to be people who try to ruin it.

'I've not been over this side of town in a long time.' James states matter of fact.

'From what I remember, it's beautiful. You're very lucky.'

'Thank you,' I mutter, gazing out the window as the buildings pass me by getting fewer and further apart by the minute. I'm becoming more and more apprehensive the closer to home I get.

Mia won't be home from work for hours. It's only just midday, and she doesn't finish until 4. The children are in school and will be picked up by George for the next 7 days.

'Do you live at the other side of town or in town?' I question James trying to distract myself.

'I live in town, close to the club, so I can keep an eye on things.' He replies his hands tight on the steering wheel.

'The club is important to you then?' I fire another question at him, not wanting the journey to turn silent.

'I love my work. It's who I am. I made it what it is. Without me, it wouldn't have been successful.' he states matter of fact with pride and confidence lacing his tone.

I sit for a minute thinking about how this incident must have effected him too. Not only him but his clubs reputation, his life's work.

'I'm sorry' I blurt out before I can second guess myself.

James snaps his head to face me so fast I think it's going to fall off. Glaring at me with something I can't quite recognise.

'You. Have. Absolutely. Nothing. To. Be. Sorry. For.' he states slowly and matter of fact. 'you are perfect' he says quietly almost to himself, turning back to face the road.

Moments pass without a single word spoken between us. How can someone I have only just met make me feel so safe so fast?

We round the corner and pull up outside my house. It's a detached house surrounded by trees and gardens. I love my home, but it looks so empty right now and I fear being alone in there. As if James senses my hesitation he reaches over and places a hand gentle on my leg. But I flinch at the touch.

'sorry' we both say pulling away from one another.

'no it's my fault' James says quickly 'I didn't think, I just wanted you to know you weren't alone. I'm here if you want me to stay until your sister gets home?'

'I'll be alright', I say not quite believing the words myself.

'call me if you change your mind okay?' James stares at me intently now waiting to see if I am okay. Am I okay? I don't even know anymore.

My legs feel like jelly, I don't even think they can move. But I NEED to get out of this car and into my own bed. I need to be brave. I am not brave, I am terrified of everyone and everything right now.

I reach for the car door deciding it's now or never, but before I can even open it James is outside opening it for me. Such a gent. He holds the door open with one hand and holds his other hand out for me to hold. I hesitate not wanting to touch anyone or have anyone touch me, however this is James the kindest man I've met for what feels like forever.

I take his hand lifting myself out of the car, trying not to trigger any of my wounds. I wince feeling the weight of my body on my sore thighs.

'you okay?' James questions, worry spread across his face.

'just sore, thank you' I reply releasing his hand.

'the arse hole really did a number on you didn't he?' he says visibly annoyed.

I don't answer just nod and force a small smile, not wanting to think about the trauma my body went through at the hands of another. Part of me desperate to remember as much as possible from that night so I can find him and make him pay, the other part never wanting to truly know what happened, dreading the chance the memories could seep into my thoughts and dreams never truly knowing what images are real and which are my subconscious playing tricks.

'thank you James really you have been a great help, but I think I need to do this next bit alone. I will call you and we can start looking together tomorrow okay?' I ask as quickly as possible not wanting to drag this out longer than needs be.

'whatever you want Lucy, you know that. I'll help anyway I can. I'm going the club now to start looking through all the cctv from that night. I'll call you if I find anything okay?' James replies just as quickly. Is this how this next week is going to be? I hope so I just want to stop the arsehole and get back to my life.

I leave entering the house, the smell of my home enveloping me in safely and love. Oh it is good to be home. I don't feel scared here. This is my place. My home. I am safe here.

I head upstairs ready to wash change and get into bed, to try and get the first decent night's sleep in what feels like forever. The house looks unchanged. Not a single item out of place. Just perfect and exactly how I like it.

I climb in the shower. The water engulfing me in warmth but reminding me of the injuries I have incurred once more. I don't want to be reminded, so I cut the shower short, quickly dry myself off and climb into bed.

This is my home I never wear clothes for bed they're too restrictive. But I can't settle. I feel too exposed. Too vulnerable. I push back the covers and dress in some light underwear hoping this will stop the intrusive thoughts.

I climb back into bed feeling both restricted my my underwear and exposed from the lack of clothing I have on. I push back the covers once more finding my only set of pyjamas at the back of my wardrobe hoping they will make me feel more secure. Once more I climb into bed.

Now I'm too hot. Am I ever going to feel comfortable in my own skin? How could this monster do this to me?

Not only take what wasn't given, injure my body and mark me but take my comfort from me, my security, my trust, my sleep and even my bed. Giving up on even thinking about resting. I flick the TV on hoping I will at least get a few moments of rest even if it's only my body and not my mind.