CHAPTER EIGHT
GRACIE-MAY
The following morning, my eyes fluttered open and shut just as fast when shards of light streamed through the window, almost blinding me.
I moaned loudly and lifted a hand to where pain radiated through my face, inside and out. I ran fingers over the swelling and memories of the previous night slammed into me.
I forced my eyes open again and glanced around to find I was in my own bed, fully clothed and under the covers. What the hell happened, how the hell did I get here? Last thing I remembered was a bearded biker pulling a seething, beyond furious Ben off me.
Finally stopping him from beating me, I was sure my eye socket was broken. How am I going to explain a shiner which would take over a month to heal? I dreaded looking in the mirror, the bruising would be extreme, I would probably scare the shit out of myself. I expected my eye would be bloodshot with broken vessels, it would look like I was crying blood.
I threw the blankets back, the cool breeze from the window caused goosebumps to break out over my skin. My feet sank into the plush black carpet as they hit the floor and I dug my toes into the softness, like I did every morning.
My head thumped and I steadied myself on the side of the bed before padding to the bathroom.
As I suspected, when I glanced in the mirror, I found my face was a mess.
I dabbed Arnica over the various cuts near my eyes. My eyebrow was cut open and smeared with dry blood. The top lip was split and swollen to twice its normal size. I looked horrendous.
How the hell was I supposed to go into work looking the way I was? It was sickening, I’d scare everyone half to death. And questions. There would be so many damn questions. Judgements and advice on why I should leave him. No shit, I know I should leave him but it wasn’t as simple as what people thought.
I headed to the lounge room and kitchen and was greeted with an unholy mess – it seemed everything was broken.
My back burned on remembering the glass bottle which shattered under my body during Ben’s attack.
I’d have to suck it up, as usual and call Martha. I needed her to look me over and check for glass lodged in my back.
Searching for my phone, I was relieved to find it in the back pocket of my jeans, thank God it wasn’t broken. My screen was blinking hot from all the missed calls and messages. Fuck, Kaden. Palming my hair, I twisted my fingers into its length and winced in pain when I pulled at the strands. Something else I’d fucked up.
I headed back to my bedroom and dropped onto the mattress, curling into a fetal position.
I noticed a note on my bedside table, messy scrawl on a pizza place napkin.
“Put ya in bed, no woman deserves what happened, nor to wake up on the floor.”
I turned it over, they were the only words written. Well, that explained how I got to bed, I guess. Nice.
Opening my phone, I texted Martha and waited for her answer. I would leave Kaden for later.
***
My house smelled of Dettol and apple spray which was odd. I heard humming as I pulled my sore, aching body from my bed. I picked up my cardy from the chair next to my bed and wrapped myself deep in it. It smelled like Kaden and my heart pinched. He couldn’t see me like this.
I headed into the kitchen to find the mess, broken bottles, smoke butts, smashed bench and wall was all cleaned up.
“Hey sweets, ya were sleeping when I arrived so I just got stuck in.”
I smiled at the back of my friend, how Martha knew I was there was beyond me.
When she turned, I saw the look of horror lace her beautiful features and pain flickered in her eyes. “God damn, Gracie.” Her tone was one of hurt for what had happened to me.
“It’s not as bad as it looks.”
Her hands slammed on her hips “Like fuck it isn’t Grace. Damn, hon.”
“I’m sorry.” Tears began to flow, I just couldn’t be strong anymore. I couldn’t do it. I’d been broken one to many times to be put back together with plasters and tape.
“Come here.” Her arms wrapped around me, her scent floated over me - honey and lemon.
