Give Me a Reason (29 page)

“Right or wrong, it doesn’t matter. Laura’s moved on,” Toni
muttered.

“And how did you come to that conclusion, may I ask?”

“It doesn’t matter how I know—”

“Oh, yes it does,” Abby said, sitting forward in her chair.
“You’re describing my best friend as a fickle tart and that couldn’t be further
from the truth.”

“Really?”

“Yes,
really
.”

“Then would you care to explain why she went out with Phillip
a week after she kissed me, and then last night...last night she came home with
a love bite on her neck the size of bloody football!”

“She went out with Phillip to tell him face-to-face that
their relationship was over. And as far as what happened last night, I invited
Laura to go out for some drinks and dancing, hoping it would take her mind off
of you, but it didn’t take me long to realize that she didn’t want to get
buzzed, she wanted to get pissed out of her mind. When she came back to the
table with that idiotic bruise on her neck, I put us both in a taxi and brought
her home.”

“So you didn’t give her that hickey?”

“What? No, of course I didn’t. Laura and I are friends. She’s
never been interested in any woman like that. Well, that is, until she met you.
All she was trying to do last night was to escape from the feelings she has for
you, if only for a few hours. Toni, you’ve got to know that she’s fallen for
you.”

“She has a funny way of showing it.”

“Oh, like you have any room to talk,” Abby said, rocking back
in her chair. “What’s the difference between hiding in a glass of tequila and
hiding in your room?”

“That’s different.”

“No, it’s not. It’s the same thing.”

“How the hell do you figure that?”

“Because you’re both
afraid
,”
Abby said. “You’re afraid Laura can’t get past your scars, and she’s afraid
she’ll never be able to convince you that they don’t bloody matter, but what
Laura hasn’t figured out is that you’re not that vain, are you? I have no doubt
the marks left by those belts aren’t beautiful, but the ugliness you really
don’t want her to see is what lies underneath. It’s the rage you feel, the
hatred...the need for revenge. It’s alive and well and living just under the
surface, and you’re afraid one day it will escape and seek retribution against
those who hurt you. That’s what you really don’t want Laura to see, isn’t it?
That’s what you don’t want her to know.”

Stunned that the woman had so easily seen through to the
truth, Toni stared back at her for a moment, her eyes getting glassy as tears
began to form. “I don’t want to hurt her,” she whispered. “I’m...I’m so afraid
that I’m going to hurt her.”

“Do you mean physically?”

“Yes.”

“Why would you think that? She’s not the one who put you
behind those bars.”

“Did she…did she tell you about the screw who tried to rape
me?”

“Yes,” Abby said, but then the room was filled with the sound
of her gasp. “Oh, dear God. Are you saying that he did?”

Shaking her head, Toni said, “No...no...he didn’t...he
didn’t—”

“Toni, did he penetrate you?”

Abruptly, Toni stood up. “I need a smoke.”

Before Abby could blink, the woman stormed past her, grabbed
her jacket and practically ran out the back door. Without thinking twice, Abby
headed to the front hall to retrieve her coat.

Standing under the small roof, Toni watched the rain fall and
when she heard the door open, she didn’t turn around.

“Can I have one of those?” Abby asked.

Knowing if she looked in Abby’s direction, the tiny thread
holding her emotions in check would break, Toni placed the pack and lighter on
the railing.

“Thanks,” Abby said, lighting a cigarette.

They stood almost shoulder-to-shoulder, looking out at the
overgrown garden while they smoked their cigarettes. When Toni lit the next,
Abby did the same, but when the chill of the air finally made it through Abby’s
thin coat, and she shivered, Toni said, “You should go back inside. You’re
cold.”

“Yes, well I have this problem with walking away from a
patient in crisis.”

“I’m not your patient.”

“Yes, you are,” Abby said, turning to look at Toni. “So talk
to me.”

“I don’t want to talk.”

“You and I both know you do. You’re just worried that once
those tears start to fall, they won’t stop, but they will. I promise.”

“Are you sure?” Toni said in a ragged voice. “Are you really
sure?”

Flicking her cigarette to the ground, Abby placed her hand
lightly on Toni’s back. “I’m positive.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The tears came, and with them, a torrent of words filled with
hatred and anger directed at the men and women who had abused her spewed forth.
Toni pounded her fists on the railing so hard Abby feared she would break every
bone they contained, but she didn’t stop her. She stood a few feet away as Toni
unloaded, tears angrily brushed aside as she used every name in the book to
describe the people who had damaged her, and as Abby knew it would, the truth
came out.

He had come into Toni’s cell that night to violate her, to
abuse her in ways that caused stomachs to empty, and even though Toni had
fought him, not allowing him to rape her in the truest definition of the word,
he had raped her mind. With his hands, he had destroyed memories of perfumed,
gentle lovers, replacing them with painful gropes that had left the most tender
parts of her body bruised and swollen for weeks. And with his mouth, he had
annihilated remembrances of tender kisses and playful nibbles, and in their
place were the feel of thick saliva on her skin, and the vile breath of an
animal disguised as a man.

Between the raw emotions and the damp, cold morning air, it
didn’t take long before both women were shivering, and guiding Toni back inside
to the table, Abby went in search of Scotch. Pouring a bit in two glasses, she
placed one in front of Toni as she pulled over a chair and sat next to the
woman with the tear-streaked face.

“Take a sip of that. It’ll warm you up.”

“A bit early for Scotch don’t you think or do you always ply
your patients with alcohol?”

Abby picked up a tumbler, her hand trembling so much that the
amber liquid splashed about in the glass. “It’s as much for me as it is for
you.”

For a few minutes, Abby sipped her drink in silence, allowing
the heat of the alcohol to warm her belly and calm her nerves. A practicing
psychologist for over ten years, Abby had heard her share of stories, and had
dealt with patients trying to fight additions, survive divorces or recover from
abuse. Her experience with dealing with posttraumatic stress syndrome was
notable, but sitting in Laura’s kitchen, sipping malt whisky at ten in the
morning, she knew she had her work cut out for her. Abby had never been so
rattled by a patient’s tale of woe before today. She had never been so
disturbed by a person’s anguish that her emotions got the better of her, but
this morning they had. She hadn’t been able to prevent tears from falling at
the utter pain that seemed to envelop Toni as she spoke of Thornbridge, and it
was at that moment when Abby made herself a promise. She was going to help this
woman...no matter what.

“Feeling better?” Toni said softly.

Shaken from her thoughts, Abby looked up. “I should be the
one asking you that.”

“Perhaps, but I think in the coming weeks you’ll be the one
asking the questions, so I had better get mine in while I can.”

Wary about reading between any lines no matter how much she
wanted to, Abby asked, “So, are you saying I have a new patient?”

“Yeah, I think you do.”

Struggling to keep her enthusiasm in check, Abby allowed only
a ghost of a smile to appear before slowly letting out the breath she’d been
holding. “Then I’d like to discuss a few things. That is, if you feel up to
it?”

Taking a deep breath, Toni leaned back in her chair. “I’m
okay. Go ahead.”

“Well, first I want to say that I’ll do everything I can to
help you, but you’ve got to promise me you won’t lie to me or hide things from
me,” Abby said, putting down her drink. “If I ask you a question, I want the
truth. I don’t want you to try to sugarcoat it in any way. Okay?”

Thinking for a moment, Toni said, “Okay.”

“Next, what you tell me—stays with me. If you want Laura to
know, you’ll have to tell her. I may contact some of my colleagues if I have
questions or feel I need their help, but they won’t know your name or your
situation. All right?”

“That’s fine.”

“The other day, Laura mentioned you bought a computer. Do you
have an email address?”

“Yes. Why?”

“I have a questionnaire I give all my patients.” Getting up,
Abby went in search of a pen and paper, and returning to the table, she handed
them to Toni. “Write down your email and when I get home, I’ll send it along.”
Noticing that Toni had begun to fidget in her chair, Abby asked, “Are you all
right?”

“Just nervous...never been shrunk before.”

“Well, this isn’t really the shrinking part,” Abby said,
flashing a quick grin. “It’s more like the pre-wash.”

Amused, Toni relaxed in her chair as she began to understand
why the woman was Laura’s best friend. “So, what’s this questionnaire about
anyway?”

“It’s just for background information. Nothing too taxing, I
assure you.”

“Okay, and then what?”

“Normally I meet my patients at my office, but for the time
being, I think we should meet here. You’re obviously more comfortable in these
surroundings and I don’t think we need to put any undue pressure on you, or am
I wrong?”

“No, here would definitely be better.”

“Good,” Abby said as she jotted down a note. “I’ll check my
planner and see what I can do. I’d like to see you at least twice a week to
start, and if you think you can handle more, I’ll make sure I have the time
available. Will that work for you?”

“Yes. I usually get home just after four, but my classes on
Monday and Wednesday end at two, so I could be here early on those days.”

“Does Laura come home at the same time?”

“No, she works until at least five, and on Wednesdays, she
has a staff meeting, so she’s usually not home until after six.”

“Aren’t you staff?”

“I’m exempt.”

Pausing for a moment, Abby said, “That’s right. You don’t do
well in groups of people.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, so let’s plan on meeting here Monday at half past two,
and we’ll go from there,” Abby said as she jotted down another note.

Running her hands on her jeans to dry her palms, Toni nodded.
“All right.”

“Can you handle a few more questions? I promise, just a
couple more and then that’ll be it until Monday.”

“Um...sure. Go ahead.”

“Do you take drugs?”

“Excuse me?”

Laughing, Abby said, “Relax, it’s just a standard question.
Nothing personal.”

“Oh, um...no, I don’t do drugs.”

“Ever?”

“I smoked some grass in university, but I didn’t like the way
it made me feel.”

“Okay,” Abby said, adding to her notes on the paper. “How
about prescription medication? Any of that?”

“No. Why, do you think I need some?”

“I don’t believe in medicating patients unless it’s
absolutely necessary, Toni. The reason I’m asking about drug use is because I
need you to be clearheaded when we talk. If you’re taking something to alter
your mood or using some narcotic to ease your pain, then the sessions would be
pointless.”

“This coming from a woman who just served me Scotch at ten in
the morning,” Toni said, a grin slowly forming on her face.

Chuckling, Abby said, “
Technically
,
this isn’t a session.”

“Nice out.”

“I thought so,” Abby said, her eyes creasing at the corners
as she picked up her drink.

***

With her head in her hands, she sat on the edge of the bed,
trying to decide if opening her eyes or even moving was even possible. Awake
for almost an hour, it took all Laura had to get herself into a sitting
position, and after crawling out from under the heavy duvet, the pain in her
temples forced her to stop. Cautiously opening one eye and then the other, she
drew away from the thin streaks of light that had somehow found their way
through the drapes. Slowly getting to her feet, Laura steadied herself on the
nightstand and then on the dresser before she finally made it to the bathroom
to empty her bladder.

Deciding that if she looked as bad as she felt, glancing in
the mirror would
not
be a good idea, she
walked past the vanity and turned on the shower. A few minutes later, she
stepped under the hot spray and allowed the water to wash away the smell of
alcohol and cigarettes.

Memories, fragmented by tequila, filled her mind. Snippets of
pubs alive with laughter and loud music rushed in and out of her head, but as
hard as Laura tried, she couldn’t remember how many they had visited. The night
was a blur of taxi rides, walks down crowded sidewalks and gargantuan men
standing at doorways to usher them into rooms filled with the stifling heat of
people on the pull. She had danced in the arms of strangers, arms that felt
foreign, almost dangerous, but she found herself refusing none. Placating her
nerves with clear liquor, she wanted to lose herself amongst the gyrating
bodies on parquet floors, but the baritone voices that whispered promises did
not hold her interest for long…so she drank some more.

Sometime during the evening, the music slowed and a man with
black hair and eyes the color of milk chocolate took her hand and led her to
the dance floor. He held her close, much too close, but fogged by alcohol, she
allowed him to whisper, she allowed him to touch, and when he said he wanted to
mark her…she let him.

The bar of soap slipped from Laura’s fingers as her eyes flew
open, and rushing to rinse the rest of the soap from her body, she shut off the
taps, grabbed a towel and rushed to the vanity. Wiping the moisture on the
mirror away with her hand, her entire body deflated. “Shit!” Slowly turning her
head, when the magnitude of the vivid love bite came fully into view, all the
color drained from Laura’s face. “That’s just great, MacLeod. That’s just
bloody great!”

***

A short time later, Laura came downstairs wearing her most
comfortable track pants and her most uncomfortable high-neck cardigan.

Sitting on the sofa, Toni looked up from her book. “So, you
are
still alive.”

“Barely,” Laura said, collapsing into a chair.

“How’s your head?” Toni asked, placing her book on the coffee
table.

“It feels like I slept with it in a vise.”

“Better than in a toilet, I suppose.”

“Debatable,” Laura said. Closing her eyes, she rested her
head on the back of the chair.

“How about I make you some coffee?” Toni asked, and then
holding up her bottle of beer, she said, “Unless you prefer the hair of the
dog?”

Opening one eye, when Laura saw what Toni was offering, she
blanched. “Not on your life.”

Grinning, Toni got to her feet. “I’ll put on a pot. Shan’t be
long.”

She was trying her best to be a friend, but when Toni reached
the kitchen, her grin disappeared. Laura’s attempt at covering the bruise was
admirable, but it didn’t matter that Toni couldn’t see the hickey. She knew it
was there, and she was
not
happy. Silently
berating herself for the jealousy flowing through her veins, Toni stayed in the
kitchen until the coffee was done, and grabbing another beer for herself, she
went back to the lounge with her annoyance in tow.

Handing Laura the cup, Toni returned to her spot on the sofa,
and after taking a healthy swallow of the pale ale, she opened her book and
leaned back into the cushions.

“Thanks for the coffee,” Laura said.

“No problem.”

“You okay?”

“Sure, why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know,” Laura said, eyeing the woman. “You seem a bit
off.”

“No more
off
than I usually
am.”

“Did I do something wrong last night?”

With a snort Toni looked up from the book she wasn’t reading.
“No, I always enjoy having to deal with two drunken women stumbling about the
house at one in the morning. It’s what I live for.”

“Two? Abby was here?”

With a huff, Toni said, “You really don’t remember anything,
do you?”

“It’s all a bit of a blur.”

“Is the name of the bloke who put that mark on your neck a
blur, too, or did you remember to get his number?” Seeing Laura touch the collar
of her sweater, Toni blurted, “The frock you wore last night barely had enough
fabric to cover your tits, let alone your neck.”

Anger flashed in Laura’s eyes as she sat forward in her
chair. “There was absolutely
nothing
wrong
with the dress I wore last night!”

“No, it just had
pull
written all over it,” Toni said, tossing her book on the table. “I guess I
should consider myself lucky you came home with Abby instead of your
neck-sucking pub partner. I sure as hell wouldn’t have wanted to come out here to
find you fucking on the sofa.”

“You are
way
out of line!”

“Am I?”

“Yes, you are,” Laura said, getting to her feet. “I went out
last night to have a good time. I wanted to dance and to laugh and to forget my
troubles, and I ended up drinking too much. So what? I’m a big girl, Toni, and
if I want to go out and dance the night away, I will! If I want to get drunk, I
will, and if I decide to bring someone home, and we decide to fuck on the sofa,
as you so eloquently put it, I suggest you either stay in your bloody room or
look the other way when you come out!”

As Laura stomped to the stairs, Toni called out, “Since when
did you become such a bloody tart?”

Stopping at the bottom step, Laura turned around. “Since you
refused to give me a reason
not
to be!”

***

“So how’s this work?” Toni asked, placing the tray of tea and
biscuits on the coffee table.

“What do you mean?” Abby said as she picked up a cup.

“Do I lie on the sofa and tell you about my dreams or what?”

The corners of Abby’s mouth turned upward as she leaned back
on the sofa and crossed her legs. “How about we start with what’s bothering you
today?”