28
Ruby
I wakethe next morning confused where I am, but my mind catches up as soon as the pain hits. My head aches, face sore, and when I sit up, I notice the blood staining the sleeves of my white work shirt. Memories of last night surge, and my stomach heaves.
I put my shaking hands over my ears and close my eyes, trying to blank my mind of the looping images of Dan’s face and fists invading. Focusing on controlling my breathing, I stand but the room lurches and I sit back down. There’s painkillers in my bag, but will they work against the headache I have? I touch my forehead, and wince at the lump.
I survived.
Another thought intrudes: what would’ve happened if Jem hadn’t arrived? I thrust it away; I can’t go down that route. I’m here and my injuries aren’t as bad as they could’ve been. In a screwed up way, I’m lucky.
Jem’s right. This time I go to the police, take seriously the danger I’m in. I can never damage Dan the way he’s pulled me apart, but I can get him arrested and make his life hell. Who knows what will happen, or if any justice will be done, but I’ll try.
Then I’ll gather up the remaining pieces of Ruby and put them together. If I could, I’d run from all of this, go somewhere nobody knows who I am. Not to hide, but to live in freedom for a while.
After half an hour in the room, my mind continues to drag up the horror of last night, and I don’t want to visit that place. I head out into the quiet house and call Jax.
Jax arrives and although the shock on his face is bad, the fact he averts his eyes from the mess of mine embarrasses me. “What the fuck happened? You said Dan had attacked you, butshit…not how bad.”
“Don’t say anything, please.” I wanted to put make-up on, but the police will need photos. For the first time, I have to show the world what Dan does to me.
“Is Jem around?”
“I don’t know.” I haven’t seen him since last night. I’m not sure what to say or what exactly our position is now. No way can I think anything through currently. “You want a drink before we go to the police?”
Jax looks around the lounge room. Of course, he’s never been in the house. I poke him. “I’d give you the guided tour, but I’m not sure I’m allowed.”
“Not without the entrance fee.” I turn to a smiling Jem who’s in the doorway, rubbing his head with a towel. He’s post-workout, damp t-shirt stretching across his abs and perspiration glistening on his taut biceps, all of which would be enough to fuel any girl’s Jem Jones fantasies. Jem’s smile disappears when he looks at my face, the action causing a twinge of pain around my mouth.
“Hey, man,” says Jax with a cautious tone.
“Hey,” he says then looks to me. “You’re coming back here after the police station?”
“If that’s okay,” I reply.
“Sure.”
“Okay.”
“Right.” Jem heads upstairs.
The amount said with so few words doesn’t escape Jax. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“I wish you’d come back with me instead.”
Last night I was adamant I’d go to Jax and the boys, but since waking today, I’m too scared to go far. “I feel safer here.”
“Yeah, but why? Jem’s the reason you didn’t come to the studio yesterday, isn’t he?”
“That’s dealt with.” I head to the open door.
“Is it? Really? The more involved he gets the more likely things will go wrong.”
“For me or the band?”
“Both.”