Freed by Him Read online

  He laughed and threw his arms around me affectionately "Bella! Beautiful lady, how did I not know you were visiting?! I would have tried to have made it home a little earlier."

  He looked over at my sister in confusion.

  "Alex, I told you the other night!" She shook her head and turned back to me "Forget Italian I may as well be speaking Chinese around here for all the good it does me, c'mon, let's eat."

  The following day was spent enjoying the sunshine. It was lovely to have a day dedicated purely to having fun.

  The children were ecstatic to visit the beach, and we spent the morning making sand castles, sand boats and paddling in the sea.

  Nico proudly showed me how he was slowly mastering front crawl in the sea, and we enjoyed a picnic on the beach.

  Just before heading back we visited a little cafe just off the beachfront, and I bought them both their evening meal followed by a large gelato.

  Florence could barely keep her eyes open, and laughing, I scooped her up and carried her back to the car, Nico helping with our many bags.

  By the time I'd made it back to their house, they were both sleeping, exhausted by our day out.

  As I pulled up my sister walked out into the driveway. She grinned at me and said softly, "Feel free to come as often as you like."

  I unclipped Florence from her seat and carried her upstairs, followed by Bianca carrying Nico.

  Once we'd settled them, I went into my guest room and picked up my bags.

  "You have to leave right away?" She looked at me forlornly.

  "Yeah, I know I'm sorry. I've not got much time this visit. I've hardly seen you."

  She reached out and we hugged. I missed my sister.

  She'd met Alessandro when they were at university, and they'd lived in London for a year or so before they’d married. Once they had, Alessandro wanted to go back home and raise their children in Italy, and my sister had agreed.

  We said goodbye and promised that next time we'd try and have more time, and I headed back to the airport to travel home.

  Nate

  I pounded the punchbag, but, no matter how hard I struck, it didn't seem hard enough. Judging by the grunts coming from Marcus, he seemed to disagree.

  "Enough, Nate, fuck me! You’re gonna knock the stuffing out of this bag if you carry on! C’mon spill…"

  He stepped away from the bag, so that it swung erratically on my next punch and just stood there, staring at me.

  I turned away from him and walked to the running machine. Starting off at a slow jog, I soon set a punishing pace.

  He walked around and stood at the side of me.

  "You can run as fast as you like; you realise you're not moving away from me, right?"

  He smirked at me, and I snapped, "Fuck off."

  He shook his head and walked over to the weights bench to carry on with his own workout.

  I knew I was being an arsehole but I put my head down and ran until my lungs burned and my legs ached.

  We showered and dressed in silence, but I could feel Marcus glancing over at me every so often.

  He finished before me and shouted over his shoulder as he walked out, "Bar! Soon as you're done."

  I didn't even have chance to respond as the door closed behind him as he walked out.

  I sighed. He’d been my best friend since childhood. He could read me like a book - not that he'd needed to try very hard today; I'd made no attempt to hide my mood. I’d been acting like a prick, and now he was going to call me on it. I finished getting dressed before going out to join him.

  Walking into the bar area, I could see that he'd chosen a small table at the back. Two pint glasses already sat at the table, and he looked relaxed, leaning back in his chair, talking into his phone.

  He motioned me over. He slipped the phone into his pocket as I got close and kicked my chair out slightly.

  Throwing my bag down next to us, I sat in the chair. I indicated at the glasses with my hand.

  "I've got the c…" he grinned and winked at me, interrupting me, "Excuses … it's sorted. Now stop being a pussy and drink your drink."

  We chatted about nothing in particular for the next hour or so, both of us ignoring the obvious issue before I reached down and pulled the invitation out of my bag. I'd brought it knowing that I'd speak to Marcus about it.

  I threw it down on the table, and, knocking back the rest of my drink, I got up and ordered another round.

  I put the drinks down, and, leaning back in my chair, I looked directly at Marcus, who seemed to be trying to decide on the best course of action to take.

  He picked up his glass and took a large drink before looking me straight in the eye.

  "Obviously you're pissed..." I glared at him, and he grinned, "Hey, I've seen you take a dry spell out on the innocent punchbag before now. How was I to know it wasn't paying the price for you not getting laid?"

  I laughed at him, and it broke the tension a little.

  He sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. "So what are you gonna do?"

  I shrugged, trying to feign nonchalance – stupid, really, since he'd already seen how much this was bugging me.

  "I don’t know. I don’t hear anything for over two years! The last time I saw him he wouldn’t even acknowledge me - let alone speak to me! Then this, out of the blue, how the fuck am I supposed to go along and play nice, smile and shake hands, pose for some lame ass fucking photos, all the while thinking that I would have been standing in his place..."

  I'd grown more animated as I talked, raising my voice and speaking more sharply than I'd intended. I slammed my hand against the table "Fuck!"

  Marcus sat there completely unperturbed, as the few other people in the bar turned and looked in our direction. Ignoring them he stared straight at me for a second before taking another drink.

  "Thank fuck for small miracles eh?” he joked and I glowered at him.

  In all honesty I was relieved, and in a fucked up way my brother had probably done me a favour, but I’d never get past what they’d done.

  He sighed. “Just don’t go, and don’t give it another thought,” he stated calmly, causing me to scowl at him.

  "And have them think that I'm still upset, years later?"

  He chuckled. "Yeah, cos you’re so obviously fine with everything," he said sarcastically.

  "Look," he continued, "it was a shitty thing to do. He's an absolute prick, and if I'd seen him at the time, I'd have ripped his fucking head off ... but..." He paused and shrugged, looking unapologetic "They belong together, Nate."

  I whipped my head up from the drinks on the table and caught his grimace.

  "Hey, look!" He put his hands up as if to placate me. "He's a fucking loser, and she's a miserable frigid bitch. They're a perfect match. You had a lucky escape, and you and I both know it. Here’s hoping that they’ll spend the rest of their lives making each other as miserable as sin."

  At that he picked his glass up and held it out to me "Cheers!"

  Just over two and a half years ago my life as I'd known it had fallen apart.

  I’d been granted leave after a tour of Afghanistan and had decided to surprise my family and Clarissa by turning up out of the blue. I planned on announcing that I was going to leave the service and return home, but the big surprise had been on me.

  I discovered Clarissa, my long term girlfriend and fiancée, bent over my parents’ kitchen table getting royally fucked by my brother.

  I'd not spoken to either of them properly since that day. This morning a card had turned up inviting me to join them at their wedding.

  It wasn't that I was jealous as such, but I'd spent seven years with Clarissa, and the betrayal by both of them still stung, her’s even moreso than my brothers, since we'd never been close.

  Older than me by four years my brother had always resented me and my existence, and made sure I’d felt it.

  We'd both been afforded the same opportunities and been treated equally by our parents, but, whereas he
'd always felt as if he was entitled to more, I'd been content to make my own way.

  My father had respected this but it had just caused Jonathan to harbour even more resentment.

  Naturally academic, he'd flown through his exams, and our parents had been delighted when he'd secured a position with a top law firm in London, throwing him a lavish party to celebrate - something that Clarissa had tried to stir me towards, but I had had different plans entirely, much to her disappointment.

  I'd started at university but left towards the end of my second year and had enrolled immediately into the armed forces.

  My parents had tried to discourage me initially, and Clarissa had been horrified, but once my parents had come round to the idea, she'd reluctantly agreed to support me.

  Training had taken less than a year, and I'd joined the parachute regiment after that.

  Looking back I can see how difficult it must have been for her.

  I was away for a lot of the time; I saw action in combat situations. I can only imagine that that must have been even more terrifying for those at home than for us facing the danger of the enemy.

  I felt so far removed from her university stories and dramas, and we found it difficult to connect.

  It was about three and a half years later that I made that fateful return home.

  I can’t say I really blamed her entirely for the break-up.

  We were young and the life I was following wasn’t one that she had envisioned for us, but the betrayal, and the fact that it was my brother, was something that I would never forgive or forget.

  She had tried to contact me a few times afterwards - presumably she’d wanted to apologise, but there weren’t any words I was interested in hearing from her.

  I returned back to the Paratroopers but my heart wasn’t in it anymore.

  I did another year before discharging myself. Marcus had convinced me to apply to the police, and I started my training shortly after returning home.

  Nate

  I woke the next morning in the spare room in Marcus's house. Glancing at the clock I could see that it was only 5.30am, and I still had time before I needed to be at work.

  I threw the sheet back and lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying to muster the energy to get up.

  There was a loud rap at the door before it burst open a second later.

  "Rise and shine sleeping beauty!"

  It was Marcus's sister Kelly, and she spoke in an abnormally loud voice for such an early time in the morning.

  Squinting my eyes, I groaned at her "Jesus, Kel, pipe down!"

  She let out a loud laugh. "Ooooh, it's all fun and games at midnight mister, when some of us are kipping ... c'mon, get your lazy ass out of bed. You've been spoiled; I've made you bacon and toast."

  I grabbed a pillow and attempted to throw it at her head but missed, badly.

  She laughed, shouting over her shoulder as she left the room, “That's your last! No bacon for you!"

  Marcus might have been my best friend, but Kelly was a close second. She was two years younger than us and had shared a house with Marcus since they’d reconnected a few years back.

  She was like the sister I'd never had.

  There had never been anything romantic between us, despite the fact she was gorgeous; I could never look at her in that way.

  We’d gone out to celebrate when I joined the police, and she’d looked me up and down, stating bluntly, “Well that seals it, Nate. Now shagging is truly off the table.”

  I’d laughed at her. Despite knowing she was teasing, I’d winked at her and asked if she honestly thought she would be able to resist me.

  She’d tutted back at me, “You’re not just best friends anymore; you’re one of them now. You’ve gotta have his back one hundred percent every day. I’ve lost him once; the thought of losing him again haunts me. You could be the reason he comes home to me or not. His job scares the shit out of me sometimes Nate, and now I’m gonna be worrying about you, too.”

  She’d looked genuinely upset and I’d grabbed her, hugging her tightly.

  “Jesus, woman, way to put a downer on the night. I swear you wouldn’t be this upset if I was going off on another deployment!”

  Before anymore could be said, Marcus came back with some more shots, and she perked up.

  We carried on and enjoyed the night but her words stuck with me.

  When I went back into work, I spoke to my superior, requesting that Marcus be my “buddy” so that he could help with tutoring and training and, whenever possible, I asked to be partnered with him.

  It had become a standing joke at the station, real life policing wasn’t like the TV shows where you had a designated partner, but, as I got on well with the other guys and my sergeant, and Marcus was a damn good copper, I’m sure they made an exception and indulged us.

  Walking into the kitchen, I could see Kelly and her boyfriend sat together on the sofa and Marcus leaning against the worktop, eating a bacon roll.

  I went straight to the cupboard and took out a glass to fill with cold water, downing it in one. I refilled it and turned back to face the room.

  Marcus indicated a plate of bacon rolls for me, and I grabbed them, "Cheers mate!" I nodded at him, but Kelly shouted from across the room.

  "Cheers to me more like, you cheeky beggar! Marcus, you've just rolled out of your cave yourself! It's quite alright, boys, I'll play the part of the little lady this morning. You lot can tidy up. I've gotta get to work!"

  She leaned over and gave her boyfriend, Carl, a quick kiss before waving at us, reaching for her bag and slamming the door behind her as she headed out.

  Carl left right after her, also claiming that he needed to leave for work.

  Marcus looked over at me. "Made any startling discoveries this morning?" I knew what he was referring to and shrugged.

  "I've got a few weeks. I’ll think about it and decide nearer to the time.” I put my plate in the sink and called to him as I walked towards the front door, “I'm gonna shoot home, shower and change. Pick you up for a ride in?"

  He nodded, still looking lost in thought.

  I waved my goodbye, thanked him for the bed and breakfast and headed home.

  Lena

  I was exhausted. The flight back from Italy had been delayed, so I'd been late getting in.

  Because I'd missed two days in the office I'd gone back in for a few hours this morning, on a Saturday, to catch up, and now I was driving over to the refuge. It was something that I'd done most Saturdays for the last few years.

  I'd managed to keep my involvement away from the press as they seemed to have suddenly become interested in my life in the last year since I became the Vice CEO.

  I needed to ensure that the women here were protected and that their privacy was respected at all times. The last thing they needed was any additional drama.

  Luckily, my father had never been one to court the press, and he refused to allow me to attend any press events - not that I particularly wanted to anyway.

  He always took my mother to any functions, so as yet I’d been lucky enough to avoid having my face plastered over the tabloids.

  Since I wasn’t one to be pictured falling out of nightclubs or draped over eligible bachelors I wasn’t exactly interesting material for their readers anyway.

  I'd showered and changed in work and headed straight over. I never bothered with make-up unless it was for work or a night out with Maddie, so it was a quick wash, change from business clothes to jeans and a plain tee shirt, and I'd gone straight over.

  I entered the security code and the door swung open.

  Making sure it closed securely behind me, I walked in and waved hello to a few of the women and children who were sitting watching TV.

  I was later than usual so tea had already been served. The majority were still eating in the kitchen area. I walked straight through to the office.

  "Hey Marjorie, how you all doing tonight?" She was right in the middle of counting the petty cash,
so I waited patiently until she'd finished.

  "Hi Sweetie we're all OK. I wasn't sure if we'd see you tonight."

  "I know," I sighed, "I’m later than usual. I've been away with work so had some catching up to do."

  She frowned at me and I knew it had been the wrong thing to say. She was a wonderful woman but I could feel a lecture coming.

  "Lena, you work way too much, my sweet girl. You should..."

  I cut her off, knowing what was coming. "Don't you know, Marjorie, women are now doing it for themselves; have been since 1985." She fussed around me, her voice stern but she looked smug.

  "Damn right. You don’t need no man, but that doesn’t mean you’ve got to work yourself into the ground either. Go on and see the youngsters. You don't come to talk to the old ones like me."

  She shushed me out of the office and I walked back into the TV room.

  I'd started coming here a few years back. I'd prompted my father to support a charity event which raised money for women and children of domestic violence. He’d asked me along to the event. He sometimes had done, when I first started, but hadn’t now for a long time, perhaps due to my significantly increased workload.

  I’d been interested and had wanted to see for myself what the funds were used for. I'd been impressed by the motivation and enthusiasm of those running the facility but the haunted eyes of the women and children had played on my mind. I'd started coming back and volunteering to help, spending time talking to them and hearing their stories.

  I'd never told anyone of my experience in university just a few months before I began visiting. I felt an empathy and connection with these women and children, saddled with a guilt that wasn't theirs to carry but burdened with it anyway, restricted by a fear that affected and controlled so many aspects of their lives.

  I'd had to consider only myself, allowing myself a week to mourn the life that I no longer desired before trying hard to rebuild myself.

  But some of these women had children depending on them as well as years of abuse that had rendered them unable and unwilling to believe they could be entitled to more.