“Patience, wake up,” I said low in her ear. “It’s just a dream. Wake up, sweetness.” My voice was more soothing than I ever remembered. “Pati–” I was cut off when I had to duck from a fist that flew in my direction. I stopped a second fist, just an inch from my face. “Patience! Wake up,” I called more firmly, seeing she had turned from scared to violent. I wasn’t concerned for me, but I didn’t want her to harm herself.
Slowly her eyes opened, showing her sepia irises, but they still looked foggy. She looked around, confused. “The children!” she screeched before leaping off the bed and running to the door. I pushed the blanket from over me and made it through the door of our bedroom in three steps, only to see Patience darting into Kennedy’s room. A few seconds later she attempted to dart past me to get to Kyle’s room.
“Hey,” I called, wrapping my arm around her waist.
“I need to check on them!” she insisted, squirming, but my grip tightened.
“The children are fine. No one’s getting into this house.”
She blinked, looking up at me, her eyes cleared a bit but her breathing remained heavy.
I waited for her breathing to steady. “Come here.” Grabbing her by the hand, I pulled her behind me as I walked down the hallway and then down the stairs. When we arrived in the kitchen, I took out a bottle of water, handing it to her. “Drink,” I ordered.
She hesitated, but eventually took the bottle from my hand, taking a large gulp.
I stared at her hard, arms folded across my chest. I saw as she avoided eye contact, eyes flittering about the kitchen, everywhere except on me.
“I’m sorry for interrupting your sleep.”
“I don’t give a damn about my sleep.”
She finally looked up at me, clearing her throat. “I’m fine now. We can go back to bed.” She attempted to exit the kitchen only to be blocked by my body.
“Tell me,” I insisted. I’d known there was something wrong. Something off. She often had dreams that seemed to make her restless, past her usual wild sleeping behavior. I heard it in her voice that night before the way she’d called out my name.
“It was just a nightmare.”
“You don’t have nightmares.”
Her gaze sharpened on me. “You don’t know everything about me.”
I moved on her. “Tell me what I don’t know.”
She bit her lower lip.
“You can tell me now or I’ll find out my way.” I pulled her chin between my thumb and forefinger, turning her head up to me. “You won’t be able to sit for a week if I have to find outmyway.”
“Bully,” she grumbled, pushing my hand away but not backing away from me. She cleared her throat. “I was attacked,” she stated just above a whisper.
I can’t even begin to describe the feeling that moved through my very bones. Rage was much too calm to describe it. “When? How?” My voice was filled with something indescribable.
She waffled a little, licking her lips before finally telling the entire story. “I was eight months pregnant, moved to Oakland just five and a half months earlier. I was living in an apartment complex in what I thought was a safe neighborhood. One night, in the middle of the night, I woke up to a man dressed in all black and a ski mask in my bedroom.” Her voice faltered. “I-I was terrified. As soon as he saw I was awake, he lunged to the bed, trapping me with one arm around my waist and another held a knife to my throat.” She wiped away a stray tear. “I begged him to not hurt me. But he said, I deserved it. Said that I was a lying whore who pretended to be innocent–” She stopped abruptly, and took a deep breath. “God, I remember every word he said.I should kill these babies right now, he repeated over and over. Kept calling me a liar. Then,” she swallowed, “he, uh, he began undoing his pants, saying he was going to force himself down my throat before he took me. I began to fight then. I punched him as hard as I could and tried to scramble off the bed to get away. He caught me by my ankle and dragged me back across the bed, punching me in the face first and then my stomach. I didn’t even feel the pain. I was so scared for the twins. I kicked and tried to claw at his face but he was all covered up. Finally, I landed a kick to his groin, which was still exposed. It gave me enough time to get away. I ran out of the bedroom, to my front door and into the hallway. I banged and knocked on three doors before a woman answered.” She peered up at me through a sheen of tears.
“Ms. Sheryl. She took me in, locked the door, and called the police. I hadn’t even realized I was bleeding until I saw her hands covered in it. I had a busted lip, cuts all over, and my stomach…the pain was horrific. By the time the paramedics arrived, they determined I was in full on labor, caused by the trauma. I gave birth at five in the morning, three hours after being attacked.” She wiped tears from her face, swallowing deeply.
“D–” I stopped, trying to rein in my feelings to not scare her even more. “Was he ever caught?”
She nodded. “Not that night but months later the police contacted me. By then I’d moved. Apparently, there was a serial rapist in the city. They connected him with a number of break-ins and assaults on single women in the area. There was no DNA left at the scene of my crime, except for mine, so they couldn’t connect him to my attack, but the police assured me they had the right guy. But …”
“But what?”
“I don’t know. I just, I can’t be a hundred percent sure. I never saw his face, no DNA.” She shook her head. “But the police were certain so I didn’t press it. I did my best to forget. I was just grateful Kennedy and Kyle were okay. They were born more than a month earlier than expected but there was no permanent damage from the attack.”
“You’re still having nightmares,” I commented.
“It happens every so often. Just a side-effect, I guess.”
She was trying to downplay it. For my sake, not hers. She knew I wasn’t taking this well, though I hadn’t even said anything beyond a few questions.
