Despite having the names of the three men involved in our kidnapping and captivity, it was not easy to find them. In other words, it took months to even get a viable lead. I was on edge for most of it. I was distracted at work - the manuscripts taking longer to be read and revised. I was distracted with the boys, I burned 95% of the food I tried to make, I took too long in the shower and came out beat red, I missed lights turning green while driving, and I had difficulty sleeping. I was surviving in my life, but I wasn't living, only going through the motions of my normal routine. Then, our luck turned. The two men who kidnapped me were located and arrested a month ago, their trial pretty cut and dry. Now, as for the man who hurt me, he is still out there, but with our best lead yet, I feel hopeful. We will get him this time. I won't sleep until we do. It is his turn to pay for what he did to us - to me.
Stepping out of the elevator, I almost walk into Amelia who decided to stand right in front of the elevator doors.
"Good morning," she greets cheerfully.
"Good morning."
Walking towards my office, Amelia is hot on my heels. "What does your day look like?"
Despite how hard I have been trying to keep it together, those who know me know just how distracted and on guard I have been. During our lunches, I frequently zone out and only Amelia clapping in my face pulls me from my thoughts. I don't mean to be a bad friend, but my mind is constantly swirling. I feel like I am missing something. All of our leads have been dead ends and now with this new one, I'm ready to spring into action; my patience is gone.
"I really have to catch up on this latest manuscript. It needed to be done yesterday, but I can't seem to focus." I huff in frustration. Everyone has been so supportive, but I wish I could just turn my mind off.
"Everyone understands. Take your time and do it right."
I know she's right, but I just want to be back to normal. I don't want to have to constantly be reminded of the past - looking at my body is reminder enough - but now my brain basically lives there.
"I know. Thank you." I manage to give her a small smile, opening the door to my office.
"I'll meet you here for lunch?" She asks.
"Yes, see you then."
She is such a great friend. I can't help but feel grateful for having met her. Really, I feel grateful for the support system I have surrounded myself with. Amelia has been great, my boss is so understanding, and the boys have been my rock. Without any of them, I don't think I would be where I am today.
I take my jacket off and hang it on the back of the chair. Moving the chair back, I take a seat, my hands grabbing the half read manuscript. Only 130 pages to go. When I was an intern, I would have been able to read through this in two and a half hours. Now it will take me a full day. Shrugging the thought away, I get to work.
___
A knock on my door brings me out of the fictitious world full of wild romance and sweet gestures. Looking up, I see Amelia poking her head in and tapping her watch. "Ready to go?"
Glancing down at the manuscript, I am on page 200, meaning I have 60 more pages to go with two and a half hours in the day. A part of me wants to stay and finish, but the tiredness of my eyes and aching in my bones makes the decision for me.
"Yes, lunch time!"
Shrugging my jacket on, we walk to the elevator down the hall. Luckily, the elevator opens as soon as we press the down arrow.
"How's it going?"
"I've made a lot of progress. I still have more to go, but I should be able to finish all the revisions and the report before I leave today. I like the book, but, at this point, I am tired of working on it. I need something new. What about you?"
"Same old. Same old. Nothing really changes in the land of numbers, but that's why I like it. There is stability."
The dinging of the elevator halts our conversation as we step out and walk to my car. A month after my accident, the boys finally felt comfortable enough in letting me drive alone again and helped me pick out a new car. It is a replica of my old one, a Toyota Corolla, but instead of it being from 2008, I was able to splurge a bit and buy the 2022 model. It is sweet and I love driving it.
Opening our respective doors, Amelia and I hop into the car. Turning on the engine, music blasts out of the speakers and I take off down the road. Ten minutes later, we pull up to our favorite lunch spot. I grab our normal booth while Amelia orders out lunch for us. We each get the same thing every day so she knows what to get. A few minutes later, she sits down with our lunch in hand and we eat in peace. One thing I like about Amelia is that at times she can be a chatterbox, but other times a comfortable silence can settle around us, like now.
My sandwich crunches as I take a hearty bite. The flavors explode into my mouth and I close my eyes in delight. I swear, it doesn't matter how many times I eat this exact sandwich, I never get tired of it. It's one of the best things I have ever tasted in my life. Looking up at Amelia, I can tell she feels the same way as she devours her own lunch, her face content. Taking another bite, I let my mind wander back to our lead.
__
"Ready to head back?" Amelia asks, her voice pulling me out of my thoughts.
"Yes, let's go."
Throwing our trash away, we leave the restaurant, and get back into my car. Ten minutes later we are back at work, the elevator bringing us to our respective floors.
"I'll see you later."
"See you."
Back in my office, I'm more determined than ever to finish reading this manuscript and the time passes by so quickly that I'm, once again, disrupted by Amelia's head peeking inside of my office.
"I'm heading home. You done?"
I groan. I'm only halfway through the report and I really want to finish it tonight.
"I still have some things to finish up. You go ahead. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Alright. See you tomorrow. Have a good night."
"Thanks. You too."
Amelia steps out of the doorway, the door closing with a gentle click.
Alright, Rose, let's finish this up so we can go home.
Putting on my imaginary blinders, I dive back into the report, hoping to be done within an hour.
__
Exactly an hour later, I hit send, sending off my report to my boss. I feel accomplished. I can now move forward and get through the other manuscripts crowding my desk.
For the second time today, I pull on my jacket. I shut the lights off and lock my door before heading to the elevator. Without anyone else in the building, it only takes a second for it to reach my floor from the ground floor. Stepping inside, I pull out my car keys and my phone to text the boys that I'm on my way home. Stepping off the elevator, I walk across the small lobby arriving at the front door in under thirty seconds. I push it open while hitting send on the text for the boys.
In my distracted state, I didn't notice a figure waiting for me outside of the door until they grabbed my waist, lifting me off the ground, and put their hand over my mouth. It only takes a second for my body to react, all the self-defense training the boys have been making me do these past few months flashing in my head. He starts dragging me towards a car that's conveniently parked about a foot away from our current position. With the knowledge that I am running out of time, I bite his hand, the taste of sweat staining my mouth, making me want to gag. From there, I swing both of my feet forward and then bring them back against his shins. He loses his footing, his hold on my waist loosening. Taking the opportunity, I thrash around in his arms. Unceremoniously dropping me to the ground, the air is momentarily knocked out of my lungs, pain shoots up my wrists from trying to brace myself against the fall. One of them is definitely sprained.
Not wasting another moment, I stand up and face my opponent. The moment I do, all the air in my body deflates and I'm frozen. Even though I spent most of my captivity in the dark, there is no mistaking the man in front of me. He was the one that visited me every night. The one that took everything from me. He was the reason I was damaged and confused. Everything is his fault. Rage floods my veins. He needs to feel how I felt.
With rage fueling my actions, I run over to where he stands, a smirk on his face. Throwing my first punch, he quickly dodges. My arms back at my sides, he throws his own punch that narrowly misses my face. Distracted, he takes that opportunity, his fist flying into my abdomen. For the second time tonight, the air is pushed out of my body and I hunch over. A year ago this would have been enough to take me down, but now it only drives my actions. Standing back upright, I quickly drop myself to the floor, my foot sweeping both of his out from underneath him. He falls to the ground with a thud. In his moment of disorientation, I take the opportunity, swinging my body so that I am straddling him. Bringing my fists up, I slam my right fist into his nose, a sickening crack sounding. Seeing blood drip down his face fuels the little demon I never knew I had inside of me. It wants more. It craves his blood. My left fist flies at his face and lands on his cheek followed by another crack.
Coming back to reality, the man catches my next punch and twists my wrist. The third crack of the night is heard but no noises pass my lips. This is child's play. I can do a hell of a lot with a broken wrist. Using his body weight, he rolls us over so that he is on top of me. He throws two punches. I'm able to block his first punch, but my head whips to the side at the force of his second punch as blood floods my mouth from my broken nose and cut lip.
That was his one.
Listening to the demon inside me, I buck my hips up. The man loses his balance, his body leaning forward, hands on the pavement to catch himself. In quick succession, I throw two more punches, and roll us back over. Taking a fistful of his hair, I slam his head against the pavement. He's dazed and I take the opportunity to throw fist after fist. His blood coats my hands and sprays onto my clothes and face. By the time I stand back up, my chest heaving, his face is unrecognizable. Still, the little demon isn't satisfied. Knowing what I must do, I swing my leg back and kick his ribs. The fourth sickening crack breaks the silence of the night. Two more kicks to his ribs and I move down to a much softer, precious area. The part of his body that stole my purity, my innocence. Bringing my knee up, I smash my foot down, a scream tearing from the man's lips.
Confident that he's down, at least for now, I calmly walk over to his head. I smirk at the poor excuse of a man laying on the floor because of me. I was once his plaything, but now I have the upper hand.
Kneeling down beside him, I roughly grab a chunk of his hair and bring his ear up to my lips. "How does it feel? Hm? Not so big and bad anymore, are you?"
I watch as he tries to push his body up but have it collapse back against the ground. A humorless laugh leaving my lips at the sight.
I move my face so I can look into his eyes. "Just like I thought. You can hurt little girls because they can't fight back, but you are nothing when they can. Just a scared little man who can't take care of himself. How pathetic," the venom drips from my words, my eyes never leaving his swollen ones.
Standing up from my position, I walk back to the front door to grab everything I dropped earlier. With my phone and keys in my pockets, I groan as I drag his body towards my car, my wrist protesting. It takes a while and I may have dropped him a few times, but we make it to my car. Popping open my trunk, I take a deep breath and lift his body into my trunk, squeezing it all in there. Closing the lid, I walk to the driver's side and start the car. The loud music from earlier blares through the speakers. It almost drowns out the roaring of my blood in my ears. Almost.
Fifteen minutes later, I pull into the parking lot of my apartment. Stepping out of the car, the quietness of the night contrasts sharply from the noise that was just flooding my car. Opening the trunk, I haul his body out, making him stand on his own two feet.
"Be a good boy now and help me out. You're pretty heavy for such a small man."
Angered by my comment, the man twists his body, throwing another punch at me. I easily dodge it, his movements sluggish.
"Tsk. Tsk. What did I just say?" I ask before slamming his face into my knee. If bones weren't broken before, they are now.
Hauling him against me, we walk into the building. I shift his weight against me as we climb the steps, having to adjust after every flight. Reaching our floor, I turn our bodies and swing the door open. Taking the first step, I drag him down the hallway. Reaching our destination, I raise my hand to knock on the door. Damon opens it only seconds later, his eyes widening at the sight that greets him.
"Are you going to let me in?"
Almost unconsciously, Damon steps away from the door. Brandon who was sitting in the living room now comes to see what's going on.
Taking two steps into the door, I unwrap the man's hand from around my shoulder, watching as he falls like a sack to the floor. Another laugh passes my lips.
"Rose? Rose, what is going on?"
Ignoring Damon's questions, I kneel down beside the man's head, roughly grabbing his cheeks. "I have someone here that you need to apologize to. Do you think you can do that for me?" My words sound sweet, but they are poisonous and mocking.
Trying to lift one eyelid far enough to see out of his eye, I watch as he looks at his new surroundings. In a movement so quick I don't notice it underneath the bruising of his face, the man spits at me, his saliva landing on my cheek. I hear as both boys take a step forward, but I put my hand up, halting their movements.
Wiping my face, I look down at my prey. "That's not nice." I move away from him and stand up.
"Can you guys grab me a towel to clean him up?" I ask the boys who resemble deer in headlights. They both mutely nod and move to the closet. Without them as an audience, and a sickly smile on my face, I move to the man's right leg and slam my foot down against his tibia. The sixth crack of the night echoes in the apartment followed by a groan.
The boys come rushing back at the noise, towels in hand.
"Thank you."
Taking the towels from their hands, I walk over to the sink and place one under water, ringing it out. Walking back to the pathetic form on the floor, I wipe some of the blood from his face.
"Let's try that again, shall we?" My voice, light and mocking, turns serious. "Apologize. Now."
Parting his lips, he tries to get the words out, but nothing more than a whisper can be heard. Clearing his throat, he tries again, his words reluctant, "I'm. Sorry."
"Good boy!" A bright smile adorns my face and with the little leap, I clap my hands.
Satisfied with my work, I look to the boys. "So, what's going on?" I casually ask, wiping my hands against the towel.
"Rose, what is going on?"
"Right. So, this is the guy that used to hurt me. He tried to kidnap me tonight," I say nonchalantly.
Everyone may say I look crazy at this moment or that I snapped, especially with the blood splattered and smeared across my body and clothes, my hair messy and tangled, my wrist limp at my side, knuckles bloody, and my lip cut and swollen. And, the truth is, maybe I am crazy, maybe I did snap, but I am done surviving. I need to start living and I couldn't do that knowing how powerless I once was. How weak I was. I needed a victory - my own victory. And, now I have it. I can sleep better knowing that no one will ever be able to take advantage of me again.
"Rose," Damon says. He doesn't say anything else, like he doesn't know what to say.
Instead, he moves closer to my body and gently grabs my hands. He looks down at my raw and bloody knuckles, gently running his fingers over them. It stings, but it's also soothing. Lifting my head up, I look at him. In his eyes, I see a fire in them that reflects my own. The need for revenge is clear as day. Not wasting another second, he grabs my head, crashing his lips against mine. It's a fight for dominance, one which I win as my adrenaline is still racing through my body. He pulls back first to look back into my eyes.
"Thank you," he whispers.
I silently nod and move out of his arms, my arm sweeping toward the mess on the floor. I had my fun. Now he can do what he needs to do.
"Brandon, please go in the other room," his words sound kind, but his tone is serious, unyielding.
Without another word, Brandon walks away. I start to make my way towards the bathroom, but Damon's hand on my upper arm stops me.
"Stay. This is for us."
As weird as it sounds, my heart soars at his words. This is for us.
Together, we walk into the kitchen, each of us grabbing a knife. With sick smiles, we walk toward our victim.
__
Unfortunately, only an hour later, Brandon comes back out. "We need to call the police." Seeing the look on our faces, he adjusts his words. "Or… someone."
Looking up at Damon, he looks back at me. Simultaneously, we look at the bleeding man on the floor. His body is unrecognizable, but he's alive. His shallow breathing being the only indication. We are satisfied enough with our work, but we know we can't call the police - this is a lot more than self-defense.
"Or we drop him back off at his car and call the police anonymously."
At the sound of my voice, boys both look at me. Damon nodding his head.
So, gathering the man from the floor, we drag him back out to my car and stuff him in the trunk. Brandon opted to stay back and clean up the mess, his face slightly greener than normal.
Again, music blasts throughout my car. Whipping out of the driveway, Damon's foot presses down on the pedal, the car easily accelerating. Windows rolled down, we laugh like maniacs, bellowing out the lyrics of the song.
All too soon, we are back at my job. For the last time, we haul the man out of the trunk of my car and throw him in his. From the payphone down the street, I call the cops and simply state that there is a man badly injured and the address. Not wasting another moment, I walk back to Damon and we take off down the road.
From there, it was pretty easy to get him convicted of capital felony and sentenced to two life sentences. Being the primary witness for the case took a toll, but walking out of court, I could feel the weight being lifted from my soldiers. I am free. That chapter of my life is officially over. And, looking at Damon, I can tell he feels the same way. It's over. We made it.