Her heart stopped when she noticed the bottom left corner pane of the front door window was missing. It had been totally removed, no jagged edges remaining. Jess never would have noticed it but for the feeling of the cool March breeze, icy on her skin, as she walked through to the kitchen.
How long had it been missing? Had it been gone earlier and she just hadn’t noticed? She’d passed this way at least once already today. Yesterday? The weather had been unseasonably mild this weekend; dry, very little wind. The pane obviously hadn't been broken accidentally, and effort had been made to make it more difficult to see there was a problem. An icy shiver ran up and down her spine. Goddamnit! When had she gotten out of the habit of setting the alarm?
She’d been so diligent for nearly 2 years, but with everything slowly beginning to approach something close to normal in her new life, she’d become complacent. Normal routines, normal friends, normal job, normal neighborhood. She’d started feeling more confident for the first time in a long time, and now… what?
Perhaps it was a simple burglary; she scanned the living room to her right - she was disappointed to see that the TV and her laptop were in their normal positions. Her phone was behind her in the study that she’s just left, where she’d been putting finishing touches to an article on campus safety for the college’s spring newsletter. She rolled her eyes internally as she recalled that one of her summarizing bullet points was ‘always be aware of your surroundings’. Perhaps she would have noticed the window sooner if she listened to her own advice more carefully.
‘Give yourself a break,’ she thought, ‘maybe it only just happened.’ That, she realized, was not a comforting notion, and she held her breath as she strained to hear any unusual sounds in the house.
‘Please, please, please no.’
She gritted her teeth and tried to reign in her scattering thoughts. Perhaps she should lunge for the front door and try to make good an escape, but she could see it was locked - whoever had broken in had locked it again behind them. There wouldn’t be enough time for a quick get away if there was somebody close-by in the house.
If he was in the house.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
‘Stop it. Stop it Jess.’ she scolded herself internally. ‘You got this. Just breathe, ok?’ Perhaps the best course of action would be to turn casually back into the study, as if, perhaps, she’d forgotten something and quickly send an emergency text or email? She’d been standing in the hallway for quite a few minutes now though, if someone was watching-
Too late.
Even before she had made a half turn to head back the way she’d come, a tall figure burst out of the doorway to the living room and grabbed her, pinning her arms to her side as he pulled her back into his chest as he wrapped his arms tightly around her.
She hadn’t had enough time to see his face before he'd grabbed her and turned her away from him, but as he held her close she detected an all-too-familiar scent. It made her stomach turn. Brian.
A small whimper escaped her lips as she went into full panic mode, struggling fiercely in his embrace, legs kicking and a piercing scream escaped her lips. Holding her close with one arm, he clamped a hand across her mouth.
“Shut up!” he hissed. “Be quiet and I promise this will go better for you.”
Her lips and face hurt from the powerful grip of his hand, and she struggled to catch her breath in his vice-like bear hug.
She knew what he’d be thinking; that she gave in easily once he’d demonstrated that he had her firmly in his control. That he always won in every physical contest, it was inevitable, so the sooner she calmed down and listened to reason, the easier it was for her.
Not this time, asshole.
Jess made herself relax a little in his grip. She stopped trying to scream and/or bite his hand, stopped trying to kick him. After a moment or two he relaxed the hand across her mouth. She stayed as calm as she could make herself. A task made Herculean as memories of the pain and misery she’d experienced at his hands threatened to completely overwhelm her mind. She closed her eyes against the screams from her brain that she had to ‘Fight! Fight! Fight!’ and ‘Run! Run! Run!’ and that she had no other options. That she couldn’t ever stop fighting or running from this man. That giving up would only lead to unthinkable, unspeakable things happening to her.
She’d trained long and hard to master these monsters in her head. She tried to steady her survival brain where they lived, where they rose up and shut down all other logical thoughts when she felt threatened. She took a deep breath and silently thanked them for just wanting to keep her safe, and assured them that she had this; she’d take it from here.
A wonderful sense of calm settled on her then.
‘Holy shit!’ she thought ‘This stuff actually works!’
Brian, the monster of monsters who had spent way too much time living in her head, loosened his bear hug fractionally, and Jess forced herself to relax even more, and gasped for breath like she was having a panic attack - not an unusual occurrence for her back then. She could almost imagine the sense of triumph Brian was already beginning to feel, and imagined how he must be basking in the smugness at having managed to track her down and sneak into her new home without her, or her neighbors, noticing.
He whispered in her ear, “Jessica, I’ve found you. I have you back. You broke my heart when you ran off. Broke. My. Heart. But I’m never going to let you go again. Nev-”
Whatever speech he had prepared was cut off mid-flow as Jessica used her little bit of wiggle room and all her weight to slam her head back into a rough approximation of where his nose would be. A satisfying crunch told her she’d landed an almost direct hit.
“Aaargh!” he yelled as his hands flew up to cup his bloodied face, and he staggered a step backwards. She stepped forward out of his reach and whirled to face him. He looked at her through tear rimmed eyes as he clutched his nose. She saw the Brian rage descend and knew there was no time to marvel in her little victory. Things were about to get extremely violent and she had to stay 100% focused on him and her next move.
She knew she couldn’t just run for her phone, or run for the front door. She knew if she did that he’d be on her before she could make good a rescue summons or an escape and there would be no second chances. As tempting as it was to try, and as counter-intuitive as it seemed, she had to stand her ground for a little longer and make sure he wasn’t in a position to stop her.
She’d trained 2 years for this. She’d surprised herself and her coach with her determination and persistence.
He half growled, half roared as he lunged towards her, one arm outstretched to grab her, the other being drawn back to land an open-handed slap once he had her in his grasp. Jess ducked and swerved to the side, evading the grasping hand. She noted a look of surprise on Brian’s face as he changed his raised ‘slap hand’ into a flailing, grabbing hand to try and stop her running past him.
Which may have been useful. If she was trying to run past him. Instead, she sprang towards him, adding her weight to his already forward momentum, and adding a sideways force that caused him to stagger a few steps. But he quickly found his balance again with the help of the hallway wall, and whirled to face her.
He outweighed her by over 50 pounds and was a good 6 inches taller than she was. He had always prided himself on his athleticism and in the past, had easily overpowered her during any of the times she dared to resist him. This time though, she saw confusion, as well as rage, flash in his eyes.
She’d never faced him so calmly before, never evaded his grip or escaped his punishments.
“Jess.” he began, “Jess, I just want to talk.”
She says nothing. She keeps her breathing calm and watches him carefully. He’s trying to look relaxed, non-threatening, but she sees the tension in his clenched fists, his bunched jaw muscles. As he lunges towards her again, she dances away and to his side and picks up a walking cane from the hall stand as she passes. It looked like a simple walking cane at least, but was one of several items she’d placed around the house, for just such a nightmare scenario - preparation, preparation, preparation as her coach used to say. This ‘walking cane’ was, in fact, a solid piece of heavy oak, and she’d become proficient in wielding its weight effectively in her bartitsu training. As he turns to face her again, looking angrier than ever, she holds one end and swings the big wooden handle into his already bloodied nose.
Crack!
“Aaaaaarrgh!” he bellowed. His hands fly to his face and he sinks to his knees, letting out a choked sob. “I’ll kill you.” a barely heard whisper. Then “I’ll fucking kill you” he screams, lurching to his feet. A well aimed jab of the cane into his abdomen takes him by surprise. ‘Why the fuck isn’t she running?’ he manages to wonder as he doubles over. Moving carefully to stand squarely behind him, Jess uses a well aimed kick to deliver a powerful blow between his legs.
An inelegant move, her coach would have said, but effective.
“Jess.” he croaks as he sinks to the floor.
She eyes him dispassionately. He cups his genitals and lies moaning on the hallway rug. She keeps him in view as she moves carefully to retrieve her phone from the study behind them. Being careful to stay out of reach, and keeping the cane close to her side, she’s about to dial the police when she hears what sounds like a strangled laugh come from his mouth. She tries to ignore him but his mumbled words she hears clearly enough to send a wave of horror to her very core.
“I’ll see you again. They can’t keep me locked up forever.”
She closes her eyes. They probably won’t keep him locked up for very long at all in fact. They didn’t know of his cruelty, his depravity. They didn’t know that if he had succeeded in taking her today, he would have probably beaten her, then tied her to a bed and raped her. Repeatedly. For days, for weeks, for months.
A tear slowly makes its way down her face. She can’t run forever. And he’ll never stop looking.
Her shoulders sag in defeat. She knows how this will end, and she hates him even more for putting her here, in this position, having to make this choice.
She squares her shoulders, grasps the heavy cane again and moves towards him.
“Brian?” she whispers.
He turns to look up at her, still gingerly cupping his groin. She eyes his throat, takes aim at the larynx and delivers a final blow.
You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.
0 comments