The accident and emergency department is loud and frantic. Full of nurses and doctors rushing from left to right and drunken yelling. I wince at the noise as I’m pushed straight through to a large cubicle full of people waiting, gowned up in plastic aprons. I tune out everything but Royal’s face. They prod and swab and take x-rays of all my limbs, and unless I’m asked specifically, I ignore them. Royal doesn’t seem to know where he can touch me but ends up with his hand softly on my arm. The back of my head is stitched shut; there is a debate over what split it open and decide it was some kind of bar. Royal is asked to leave the room while they work. I can tell he’s not happy about it, but they need the room. I listen as they discover more injuries, the dislocated knee, the probable broken ribs, my broken nose.
Then they ask the question I’m glad Royal isn’t here to hear, because the answer is yes. The embarrassment and the pain of having my arse checked is enough for me to cry again.
When I’m in a private room, a heavy sedative is warming my blood, easing the pain and making me sleepy. Royal seems to be settled in a wide faux leather chair, his eyes already closed. I’m tired, but when I close my eyes, all I can see is Simon, his knuckles bloody and bruised as he leans over me. The way he shouted how useless I am, how he whispered that he was going to fuck me until my arse would be ruined for anyone else. He laughed as he did it, said that he was going to leave me to die, no one would know where I was. Who was going to guess that you’d be back with your ex.
As my eyes finally drift shut, a nurse comes in to check for signs my concussion is worsening. “Memphis, what day is it? Who’s the Prime Minister,” and some other crap I don’t think I got right. “How’s your pain? On a one to ten scale. Ten being the highest pain.” She looks at me so sympathetically that I start to cry.
As I sniff, even my throat hurts. “It’s about a nine. The pain.” I sniff again, the sound enough to startle Royal awake.
“Memphis, you okay?” He shoots the nurse a look like she just stole his puppy.
I try to laugh, but it hurts, and my tears break and course down my cheeks. “Yeah, I mean no, not even a little bit, but I will be. I need to sleep, but he’s there when I close my eyes.” More tears fall even as I close my eyes.
“He’ll never touch you again, I promise,” Royal says as I finally drift off to sleep, thanks to a top up of pain meds.
Two voices are speaking quietly when I wake up. My eyelids feel like they weigh a ton as I try to open them. The pain around them must be from the bruises that are swollen so much I see through slits. Drake is here; they are standing close as they speak. I can’t hear what’s being said, but it looks serious. “Drake.” My voice sounds weird. I try to clear my throat and repeat his name.
I remember being choked so hard I thought I was going to die. That’s a sure-fire way to make my throat hurt. They step back from each other and look at me. Royal is straight to my side again. Holding my hand with one hand and brushing the hair from my forehead. “Hey, how d’you feel?”
“Like it took Mike Tyson ten rounds to knock me out.” I try to joke, but it falls flat when Royal doesn’t smile. “What are you whispering about?”
“Nothing important.” He kisses my cheek, and I wince at the tender touch.
“Why did he say it was all your fault? That you visited him and you forced him to seek me out,” I croak out. “When did you see him?”
“Last weekend, when you thought I’d cheated on you. I’m so sorry I got it all wrong. I never thought he’d do this. The police are here and want to talk to you. Are you okay to do that yet?”
Am I ready to tell them everything he said and did? Not in front of Royal and Drake. “Yes, but without you two. I can’t do it with you listening.”
He looks surprised, but nods and looks at his brother. Drake tips his chin up and steps towards the door. Royal dips his head and kisses my forehead. “I’ll be outside.”
When I’m alone, I tip my head back, then groan at the pain it causes. My eyes flutter closed until I hear the click of the door handle and footsteps. This time I’m not going to like who I see when I prise my eyes open.
“Hi. I’m Sergeant Malcolm Sergeant, yes that’s really my name. This is Constable Mike Andrews.” The deep voice matches the solid man in front of me. His shoulders are as broad as Saint’s, but unlike my friend, there’s no humour in his eyes. “Is it okay if I call you Memphis?”
I remember not to nod but say yes instead. “Yes, that’s fine.”
“What can you tell me about Simon Mansbridge. Not about last night, not yet, we’ll get to that, but him as a man.”
This surprises me. I don’t know where to start.
“From when you first met him. Just a general overview to begin with.” He smiles, and it changes his severe face to a friendly, open one.
With a shaky smile, I talk, starting from when he first approached me in the club. I choose not to be embarrassed about my lifestyle; they need to know exactly how Simon changed over the time I was with him. I have to stop a fewtimes for some water, but I don’t want to miss anything, so even though I’m exhausted, I keep going.
“Do you have any idea who hit you on the head?” Sargent asks when I get to yesterday.
“No, I didn’t see them. They must have been following me to be there at the time Simon stopped. I woke up naked and tied to a chair. He was so angry with me, but I have no clue why. He said Royal visited him. I didn’t know what he was talking about.” I explain what happened when Royal stopped talking to me.
“We’ve spoken to both Mr Fosters,” Andrews tells me.
“Oh, okay. I still don’t understand why he said lost everything. Anyway, that’s when he started to hit me. I don’t know how long it was before he untied me. He…he,” I stutter as I try to tell him what came next. “He… Fuck, this is hard.” I close my eyes as if the memory can be blocked out.
“Take your time. The medical team have filled me in on your injuries, but I need you to tell me,” Sargent says so gently.
“Yeah, I get it. He forced himself on me and penetrated me. He was rough and violent.” I can’t say the R word; it’s humiliating enough talking about all of this. “He said he was going to ruin me for anyone else. I believed him. When he-er…finished, he started hitting me again, kicking and stomping on me. I thought he was going to kill me. I passed out again, and that’s it until Royal turned up.” I’m drained. I need to sleep. I need to ask one more question. “Have you found him?”
“Yes, he’s in custody at the police station. I’m going to see him now. I assume you want to press charges.”
