Chapter 3

Present Day

“I will hunt you down”, he breathes in my ear. “I will hunt you, like the fucking pig that you are.” He snarls, “I will kill you and your family if you ever leave me.”

“I-I promise, I won’t leave. I don’t want to leave Dean. Please!” I beg him. I wholeheartedly believe he will kill my family and me.

“Not good enough. Come,” Dean orders. He tugs my arm hard and drags me to the car, tossing me into the passenger side, slamming the door behind him. When he climbs into the driver's side, he smiles at me sinisterly and starts the car.

We drive down a very dark long dirt road with no streetlights. Dean stops, puts the car in park, and turns to me with an icy stare and evil smirk.

He turns the headlights off; for a moment; we’re in complete darkness. Just as quickly as he turned them off, he turns the lights back on to high beam. We’re in the bush, the kind of place that only animals touch.

“This is where you will die if you ever leave me.” He points towards the darkness. I swallow hard.

“No one will find you; no one will hear your pleas for help. No one will hear you scream,” Dean whispers menacingly, his eyes boring into mine. I turn away from him. I’ve never felt so scared in my life until right now.

“Do you understand me now?” he asks, jerking my chin in his direction.

“Yes, I understand you.” I tremble under his hand.

“Good”, he breathes, “Because after I kill you, I’ll go after your mother, then your sweet sister Abbey. I’ve always wanted a taste of Abbey, and then I’ll take out Quinn and then their baby. Grrrr woof, woof, gruff.”

I jerk awake and find Benny barking and huffing, laying his big head on my chest. It was just a dream, a nightmare. I take five long deep breaths while staring into Benny’s beautiful brown puppy dog eyes and start grounding. One of my great techniques my therapist gave me to use during times like these. I focus on Benny, his eyes, short soft fur, floppy ears, and calm breathing.

He nudges my hand with his cold, wet nose, and I give him a good scratch behind his ear, “Thanks, Benny, what would I do without you, huh.”

He whines a little, “Yes, yes, I know it’s treat time. You did so well.”

Benny jumps off my bed and sits on the floor, patiently waiting for his treat. I lift the covers and sit on the edge of my bed; I pull open my bedside draw and open the small jar of treats I keep for these kinds of occasions. I give Benny his doggy treat, and he obediently walks over to his bed and lays down, chewing merrily.

I glance at the clock; 7 am, awesome. I’ve slept to a decent hour for once. I get up with a big stretch and take a nice long hot shower in my lovely spacious bathroom. My shower is built for two, but it’s enough to fit four people inside. It has two oversized showerheads. I laugh to myself as if another person will ever be in my life again.

I went from one extreme to the other in my life. I once wanted all the boys, and now I can’t get away from them fast enough. Don’t get me wrong; I’ve tried dating it’s just not for me. Not right now and maybe not ever. I don’t see a partner, man or woman coming into my life. I’m riding life solo.

But the question for today, right this very moment, is Left or Right?

“Right”, I mutter to myself as I turn the right shower head on to the perfect temperature.

“Hey Siri”, I call out, “Play Bathroom Playlist.”

The benefit of living on my own is the Smart Home System I had installed. Music is one of the few things that has helped me get through the trauma. Trauma. I shake that train of thought away.

Anyways, who doesn’t have fun controlling their home? It’s like when I was a kid flicking the lights off and on or jumping on the bed. I can do whatever the fuck I like, and if I break it, who the hell cares? I’ll fix it my damn self.

The heavenly rock sounds of Silverchair – Greatest View reverberates through the bathroom.

I’ve lived in my apartment in McMahons Point harbourside of the lower North Shore of Sydney, for about a year now, and I can hardly describe its beauty. It took a while to work up the courage to move out and live on my own, but now that I do live alone, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I live on the 9^th Floor of a 12-floor building with a lovely view of the Sydney Harbor from my lounge room, the master and ensuite bathroom. It’s gorgeous every single day, rain, hail, or shine and this morning, a little fog.

I finish my shower and get dressed in a white t-shirt, dark jeans, black biker boots. I put on a little light makeup; I’m pretty pale, but that could be from the poor sleep I’ve been having lately; one good night is never enough. My eye colour is strange; they have a blue outer ring and grey in the middle with green flecks within the grey. Sometimes they look blue, and other days like today, they look grey.

The one attribute I like about myself is my lovely dark loose curls; it’s a deep brown and flows to the top of my waist. When wet, my hair touches the back of my thighs.

I quickly have some cereal and feed Benny; Sally, my dog walker/sitter, will be here for him soon. I love taking Benny to work, but today one of the girls in Group is petrified of dogs. I won’t do that to her or him.

“Shit! Benny, it’s 8:30!” I throw my lipstick and wallet in my bag, pick up my keys and head out, “Love you, Benny Boy!” I call out to him.

I quickly jab the elevator button and find Dax has already pressed the call button; he’s leaning against the wall waiting for it to come up, “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

He chuckles, “Of course not. You always have your head in the clouds. What’s on the agenda for today?”

Dax is one of my best guy friends and the lead singer for his band Modus Grace, they released another album called Siren’s Legion. He’s also my next-door neighbour. We tried the dating thing, but it never went any further than a friendship that I cherish.

“I’m heading to Group.”

“Doing one of your speech’s thing?” he asks as the doors slide open; we step in.

“Nah, just a small Group Therapy session. It’s my last one.”

He raises an eyebrow; I’ve said this before, but I’m making this one the last one. The nightmares are becoming too frequent again. I need to let it go and concentrate on living for the now and not the past.

“I’m serious. Truly. I heard the girls are throwing a farewell party for me.”

“Probably to make sure you don’t come back”, he laughs. I hit him in the arm playfully, “You want to sing tonight?”

“I have to work behind the bar, but if Joe allows it, I’ll sing a couple of songs.”

“Good. I’ll send you a couple of songs I want you to sing.” He says, holding the elevator doors for me. We both step out; he heads over to his sleek sports car. I don’t know what it is. All I know is it’s fancy, fast and likely ridiculously overpriced. I wave bye and walk in the other direction to my car; it’s an Audi SQ7 SUV.

It’s a lux vehicle that can go off-road, which works for me because my mother practically lives in the countryside in Megalong Valley, which borders the outer metropolitan area and The Blue Mountains. She loves that she's near the metro areas as well as the country region. Her nearest neighbour is about a kilometre or two away.

I turn the car on, and the music blasts, “Shit!” I turn it down and hear Dax laughing his arse off at me. I wasn’t always a jumpy person, but after Dean, I think it’ll take years to get over sudden noises and shadows.

I give Dax the bird as he drives by; I reverse out and follow him out of the underground parking lot. He turns left, and I turn right. He’ll be practising with his band today.

A new message comes through with the shared playlist; this is going to be interesting.

The Bar is my latest investment with Joe Roberts, an old family friend who ran an old pub called The Commercial Hotel, which wasn’t a hotel at all. It was an incredibly old-timey Aussie pub. When we left the old neighbourhood, Joe somehow tagged along and opened a small coffee bar. When I started earning the big bucks, I ask if he would partner with me in opening a new bar near the bay of the city of Sydney, which is quite a feat now that I think about everything, we’ve been through to get here. 

Dax and his band play at The Bar a few times a week, and some days I sing with them, mostly cover songs. I’ll never do it professionally. I don’t need to have my face in every media outlet, not with Dean getting out soon.

Modus Grace is famous in the Pub circuit of Sydney, but other than that, the band prefers to stay low key and sell their music how they see fit. They don’t want to sign to a big label. I don’t think they want to do anything significant. They all work high-stress jobs and love to play music as a hobby.  

The first song to come on is popular at the moment MGK feat, Halsey; the crowd will like this one. I sing along as I drive over the iconic Sydney Harbor Bridge rather than use the tunnel, which would have been easier because I’m heading to Western Sydney, where Group is currently held today.

I enjoy the people at the Centre and some of the shelters that cater to domestic violence victims. I love helping them with fundraisers and charity events. I’ll do some speaking events still, but otherwise, I’m leaving this behind me for now. I’m tired and can’t listen to what others have been through, let alone talk about my trauma which, according to my therapist, isn’t healthy when I haven’t processed all the trauma I experienced. Some of it helped, but now I’m burning out. 

Our past fundraisers have helped fund the latest construction of a new men’s shelter. So many men, women and children suffer at the hands of vicious people.

I shudder; Dean was a ruthless man, but would things have been different if he had the help he needed as a child? I sigh; I can’t keep looking back like that. Dean made his choices. Now I’m making mine.

Forty-five minutes later, I park out the front of the women’s Centre.

I sigh again, looking at myself in the rear-view mirror and pray, “Please God, help me with these wonderful, beautiful women.”

I hope this session goes well; this group of ladies are noticeably quiet, and that’s not a bad thing. I worry for them; having been in their shoes, I know it’s easier to stay silent. It makes it real when it’s said aloud; however, that’s when the true healing begins.  

I’m not a professional by any means, but as the CEO told me, I have the life experience and sometimes what you need is someone who has been there and is coming through the other side. I know that I will always be a work in progress, and that’s why these women are my final group.

Even though I’ve told my story a million times, it’s still challenging to relive any detail. Sometimes I can compartmentalize and speak as though it didn’t happen to me, but occasionally, I do get triggered, which is another reason I’m not going to do this anymore. I need to process my trauma and move forward. It’s time. And lord knows time doesn’t stand still and wait for you to catch up. It keeps moving no matter what we do; with that sad thought, I hop out of my car and lock it, heading into the centre.