Chapter 1
It was a bright and sunny day in Louisiana, unseasonably warm for the end of January with a bird song outside of the window. Claire lay in a crumpled heap on the floor of her kitchen, silent tears washing her face. She longed to be one of the birds she heard chirping so happily outside. There high up in the trees she wouldn't ever have to live another day in this hell that was her life. She would be free to go where she wanted when she wanted too, and she would never again be beaten down. Her tears came faster and harder, causing her entire body to shake with the force of her sobs as she reminded herself that she wasn't leaving here, there was no way out for her, no escape from this life.
Claire was married to Logan Maxwell. They had been together for twelve years now and married nine of those twelve. Logan was the starting quarterback for the New Orleans Saints and all of America thought that he was the all American guy, and at events and fundraisers he and Claire were known as the all American couple. They world thought that their marriage was picture perfect, but they had no idea of just who Logan was between Sundays, between the winning games and bright smiles, the times that there were no cameras capturing his every move.
Racking her brain Claire tried to remember just when the abuse had started. It had to of been just after they were married, right about the time when he signed with the Saints for his first pro season. It had all started simple enough, with the emotional and mental abuse coming first. The little ways he began to try and control her, with little jabs at her wardrobe, or the way that she cooked or kept the house became more obvious daily. Then the hitting started about a year later. Oh make no mistake, Logan was always thoughtful and conscientious of his public image, always wanting America to think that he had the perfect life on the field as well as at home. He never hit her so that a bruise would be visible to anyone, and he made sure to never do anything that might send her to the hospital. He was still the all American hero to the rest of the world.
For eight long years now she had took his abuse, absorbed his blows to her body, mind, and heart weekly. After every beating he would apologize, sometimes even crying with her. He made sure to somehow make it her fault, if only she hadn't made him angry he wouldn't have done it. He would tell her how it would never happen again, and even though she had long since stopped believing him, still she stayed. Why should she leave anyway? He had convinced her through the years that she couldn't leave, after all where would she go and who would believe her if she told someone about what happened at home. He had made her believe that she was indeed worthless and that no one would ever want a nothing like her, so she might as well hang around.
Her mind came back to a half an hour before, the moment when everything changed. Here on this Tuesday morning, less than a week before the Super Bowl, she had made Logan mad. Even still she wasn't quite sure what she had done, but obviously breakfast had been all wrong today. She had sat his plate in front of him and in the blink of an eye he had flew into a yelling fit of rage. In his anger he had thrown his plate across the room, shattering it against the wall, sending food and shards of plate flying. She could see him still as he stood and grabbed her upper arms, squeezing hard, leaving his mark as he yelled at her.
"How many damn times do you need to be told Claire, get it right the first time you do something? That way you won't piss me off and we won't have to do this time after time. Why do you make me have to keep you in line? It's like you enjoy this Claire. Is that it, do you like when I have to get rough with you?" He shook her roughly, making her feel like a rag doll in the hands of an angry two year old.
"No Logan, I'm s-s-sorry, it was a mistake. Just tell me what was wrong, I can fix it." Wincing, Claire sucked in her breath, biting her lip against the pain that his hands were bringing to her arms. "Logan please, stop, you're hurting me."
"Oh I'm hurting you," he sneered at me. I heard him turn the stove on, and then he slammed my back into the front of the stove. The knobs dug into my back and I whimpered as the heat of the hot eye ran up her back. She was scared for the first time in years with him. "Maybe next time you will remember that you don't over cook food, and that you only serve egg whites. Maybe there won't be a next time because maybe you will finally get it. Of course I doubt that seeing as how you're so incredibly stupid." His hand stung as he slapped her cheek, a first for him. Then he was slapping her in her chest, stealing her breath.
When he hit her in the stomach she cried out, trying to cover and protect her abdomen. "Logan, stop it please! I'm sorry!" Claire was trembling beneath his evil gaze, and that was the only way to describe the look in his eyes this morning. "Please Logan don't hit me in the stomach, I'm begging you."
"Well now isn't that cute, you begging me not to do this," he said as his hard fist connected to my stomach again. "Why shouldn't I Claire?"
"Because I'm pregnant Logan," Claire blurted out. She had taken the home pregnancy test the week before and then had her doctor confirm it just a few days later. She had hoped that when she told him he would miraculously change, that maybe just maybe he would love her. Now looking into his eyes she knew that was a hopeless dream. If possible he was even angrier than he had been.
"Pregnant, you're pregnant? You whore," he raged. Claire doubled over as he connected his fist to her stomach once again. He grabbed the back of her, yanking her up straight and she whimpered in pain and in fear. "How dare you go and do something so selfishly stupid like this?" He grabbed the metal spatula from the stove top as he pulled her shirt up, exposing flesh that was already turning a bluish purple color.
She could feel the heat coming off of the metal and at the last instant realized what was about to happen to her. As the flaming metal bit into her skin, melting it away, Claire felt bile rise in her throat as the smell of her burning skin assaulted her nose. She bit down hard on her lip tasting blood, knowing that a scream would only infuriate him more. He pressed the hot spatula harder into her skin, just above her navel and when she couldn't stand it any longer she let out a loud, howling cry of pain. Then as suddenly as he had put the hot metal to her skin he threw it across the room and threw her viciously to the ground.
"I have a Super Bowl to win this week, but when I come back I expect to hear that you have taken care of the issue, that you have made sure you're not pregnant, because I do not want a child running around this house. You're bad enough as it is. I'm leaving now, and I'll be home next week, so you have plenty of time. Now get up off your sorry ass and get this mess cleaned up." Logan went upstairs and grabbed his luggage and then was gone out the back door without another word.
Claire lay there in the floor, balled up and crying, and wondered why this happened to her. She had no idea how long she lay there, listening to the birds singing their happy song and praying for a way out. When she finally pulled herself to her feet she felt a burning pain where the spatula had been. Lifting her shirt she gagged at the sight of the burned flesh, the smell that still filled the air around her. She staggered to the bedroom and into the bathroom there, searching for the first aid ointment that would hopefully bring a relief to the burning pain.
As she reached for the gauze and the antibiotic ointment she felt a sharp, tearing pain rip through her gut. At that same moment she felt a warm gush from between her legs and she knew that Logan had taken care of the pregnancy; she was miscarrying. She walked to the shower and turned the water on and then stepped into the large shower stall and let the water cascade down over her body. She watched as the water ran red at first, and then slowly cleared as all the evidence of a life that had never had a chance was washed away.
She stood there until the water ran icy cold, bringing goose bumps to her skin and stinging the raw flesh of her abdomen. She stepped out and wrapped herself in a thick towel and slowly shuffled to the bedroom. She reached into the dresser drawers and dressed in old sweat pants and an old Saints jersey, and then walked into the oversized closet. She stood there, staring at her clothes hanging so neatly and her shoes all lined up according to color and style.
"I should just pack it all up and leave," Claire thought to herself. "I could pack it all up and walk away and never look back." As soon as the thoughts entered her mind she pushed them away. She had no where to go, and no way to make a living. She hadn't been allowed to hold a job or to go to school and further her education so who would want to hire her? But still, maybe if there was just somewhere she could go, a place where she could be safe and start over, maybe then she would have hope that she could escape.
At that moment her telephone rang, pulling Claire from her thoughts. She walked to the bedside table and without looking at the caller ID she answered. "Hello?"
"Hi Claire honey, how are you?" Her mother's voice cut to her soul. Just another person she had lied to for years and hid her life from.
"I'm fine mom, how are you?"
There was a slight pause before her mother said, "I'm wonderful but I miss you so much. Maybe after the big game you and Logan could come for a visit. I'd love having you here for awhile." After another pause, Claire's mom said, "Are you sure that you're alright dear? You sound as though you've been crying."
Claire struggle to keep her composure as she said, "I think it must be a cold or something mom, that's all." She closed her eyes against the lie and the easy way that it rolled off of her tongue. "A visit sounds great though, so I'll talk to Logan about it and let you know for sure. What are you plans for the day," she asked, attempting to change the subject.
"Okay then dear. Today is my cleaning and relaxing day, nothing more," her mom chuckled.
"Speaking of cleaning mom, I had better go. The kitchen's a wreck this morning. I'll try to call you again later today though I promise."
"Alright then dear, tell Logan that I said hello and good luck Sunday night. Oh, and be sure that you take something for that cold darling."
As Claire hung the phone up and sat it back in its cradle she noticed that the top drawer on her nightstand was open. Thinking once again how nice it would be to just pack up and leave, if only she could, she looked down and saw the home pregnancy test lying in the drawer. She reached down and picked up the stick, staring at the two pink lines. A new thought hit her in that moment and she felt new emotions coursing through her body. In the past Logan had only hurt her with his abuse, but this morning he had killed her unborn child. That thought brought with it a determination she had never known. Walking into the closet she began to throw her clothes into her two suitcases, stacking her shoes neatly into a large storage tub, and for the first time in eight years she thought that maybe she just might be okay.
As Darcy Ryan put the phone back onto its charging base she felt that something was deeply wrong with Claire. A cold Claire had said, but a mother's sixth sense told her that was a lie. Yes it was cold season, so it wasn't as though a cold were totally out of the question. In fact Darcy had just battled a cold the week before, but there was something in Claire's voice that told her this was no cold. If she only knew what was actually bothering her daughter, then maybe she could help her. The fact that Claire had felt the need to lie was more troubling than anything else though. Since when had her only child felt the need to hide things from her?
Of course, Claire had always been a daddy's girl and it was at times like this that Darcy felt his absence the most. He could have gotten her to tell him what it was that was bothering her. He would have known just what to say to get Claire to open up and talk about the trouble, if there was trouble, and he would have known how to ease Darcy's nerves right now.
Walking over to the mantle and taking the picture from her husbands last year of life Darcy smiled. In the picture he was smiling into the bright rays of the sun on a sandy beach. "Oh, Aidan, why did the cancer have to be so vicious, so cruel? Why did it have to win the fight? I need you here with me now. I need your help with Claire. Something is wrong I know it but I can't put my finger on what it could be. It's that mother's sense that you always said I had I guess. Help me Aidan; help me to help your daughter. I miss you so very badly. After nine years it's still no easier at all." Darcy kissed the picture before carefully setting it back in its place on the mantle.
Aidan had been so alive, so carefree before the cancer had attacked him. Even then he was alive and vibrant til the end. No one had known that he was fighting the disease until it was too late. Then two months to the day after walking his only child down the aisle he was gone. The loss had hit everyone hard, but it had sent Claire into a downward spiral, landing her in a dark pit of sorrow that lasted for months. Nothing had been able to help her, not even Logan. Even though he was Claire's forever love, Aidan had been their daughter's first love.
Darcy walked over to her couch and sat down propping up her feet and leaning back into the corner and closing her eyes. Thoughts haunted her, all of the worst scenarios flooding her mind. What if her daughter were sick, sicker than anyone knew, like her father had been? Darcy couldn't handle another hit like that in her life. With the thoughts floating around her head and a prayer on her lips Darcy fell into a troubled sleep.
Two hours after hanging up with her mother Claire had everything that she needed to survive. She was packed up and had everything loaded into the car. All that was left for her to do was to leave, but she hesitated. Logan was going to be furious when he returned home and found her gone. After this morning she was terrified about what he might do, of the beating that she would surely receive. Logan's violence had been escalating these days, becoming more intense, driven by a hatred for something that she didn't know. Lately each beating was worse than the one before and in her heart she knew that staying would mean that she would suffer terribly. Leaving was her only option, at least the only option that would save her life.
Grabbing her car keys Claire headed for the door, stepping over broken shards of plate and pieces of bacon. She wouldn't be cleaning up this mess, or any other rage induced mess ever again. Shutting the door that led to the garage behind her, she climbed behind the wheel of her BMW. The car had been an apology gift after one of his tirades and it proved how Logan didn't know her at all. It was much too flashy for her simple tastes.
As she cranked the car Claire winced at the pain in her stomach and put the car in reverse. She backed out of the garage slowly and with one last look at the house that had been her own prison for years she headed toward the freeway, and her freedom.
At five o'clock that Tuesday afternoon Claire pulled into her mother's driveway. She sat in the car for a minute before climbing out and grabbing the two rolling suitcases from the backseat. I walked slowly up the cobblestone walkway that led to the front door of the home she had grown up in. With her finger about to ring the doorbell she hesitated.
"God I'm about to hand a very heavy load to my mom, a load of abuse, lies, and pain. Help her through this, and let her know that I am so sorry for keeping this all from her. Thanks God." After the quickly whispered prayer Claire allowed her finger to tap the doorbell twice and then stepped back and waited for her mom to open the door.
"Claire I wasn't expecting you today," Darcy said as she opened the door. "Are you alright Claire?" She eyed her daughter's luggage and then took one look at her face. Her gut clenched and she knew that her earlier feeling that something was far from right in Claire's world.
"Can I come in mom?"
Stepping aside and taking hold of Claire's two suitcases, Darcy let her daughter walk into the house. Closing the door behind them she said, "Let's go into the kitchen and I'll make us some hot tea. There is some thera-flu if you need it for your cold."
Taking a seat at the kitchen table Claire winced as a red hot flame of pain shot through her midsection. "Hot tea will be just fine ma, thanks."
Darcy busied herself with the task of making the tea, adding lemon and honey to the chamomile tea bag and hot water. The comforting scent did little to ease her nerves today and picking up the mugs to carry them to the table Darcy avoided her daughter's eyes. She wanted to post pone whatever it was that Claire was going to tell her for as long as she could. Sitting the tea in front of her daughter she said, "There you go dear, now let me go fix us some toast and we'll be all set."
Claire covered her mom's hand with her and attempted a smile. "Please mom, tea's enough for now. Just sit here with me for a minute." Claire's voice was thick with emotion and she swallowed around the growing lump in her throat. "I've got to tell you something's that aren't going to be easy and right now I want you to know that I'm sorry. I've been lying to you and I need you to know that I truly am sorry."
"Claire its okay darling, what's going on sweet girl? Tell me how I can help you please."
Claire took a deep breath and let it out slowly gathering her thoughts. The best way was to just say it she decided so she told her mom, "I'm leaving Logan mom. I'm leaving him for good. I want a divorce and I want my maiden name back. I want a complete separation from everything that he and I had together."
Darcy blinked, trying to make sense of her daughter's words. "Divorce," she muttered. "You two are so happy together and whatever this is between you its nothing that can't be worked through. You can't just walk away without trying everything there is to help Claire. Have you tried...?"
"Mom, listen to me, please." Claire interrupted her mom eager to get it all out. "I don't want to try counseling, and I don't want to work it out. We're not happy, we haven't been in ages. The smiles and happiness were all a big lie to hold up Logan's image for the public."
"Claire what is so bad that you can't work through it?"
This was one of the hardest things that Claire had ever had to do. Suddenly she was scared to tell her mom about the years of abuse that she had suffered. What if Logan had been right all along and no one believed her, not even her mom? "Mom, for the past eight years Logan has been hitting me. It's just getting worse with time, not better. I'm scared to stay mom, but at the same time I'm scared to leave."
Darcy choked out a cry, getting up and going around and kneeling at her daughter's feet. Holding onto her hands she brushed a stray curl out of Claire's face. "Oh my Claire darling, I'm so sorry. How on earth did I not know this was going on?" She kissed her daughter's cheeks then and wrapped her in a tight hug.
Claire's face shifted with a pain that was as much emotional as it was physical from her mother's embrace. Her back was aching now from where he had shoved her into the stove and that coupled with the pain from the burn was almost too much to bear. "Mom I didn't want you to know. I didn't want anyone to know that I was so weak that I let him do this to me. I'm so sorry that I kept it from you for so long. Can you ever forgive me?"
Darcy smiled through her tears at her daughter. "Look at you, so worried about being forgiven for something when you have done nothing wrong."
After a minute Claire said, her voice barely a whisper, "I found out last week that I was pregnant. This morning he beat me again, and he took it to a new level. He burned me with a hot spatula, like he was branding a cow or something. He just held it there on my skin, pressing it in until it had gone cold. Normally he just uses his hands... but today, today he was angrier than I've ever seen him." Claire's voice broke off, giving way to heaving sobs that brought pain to her burned skin. "When I went to bandage myself after he left, I think I miscarried mom. There was so much blood... it wouldn't stop."
Darcy was shocked at this news, revolted that this man who she had thought was taking care of her daughter was so full of hate. "Did you go to the hospital and have it checked out? You don't want the burn getting infected and a miscarriage, oh Claire," she gave in to the tears that flooded her eyes then hugging her daughter.
"No I didn't, I was too afraid, and alone."
"Well you're not alone now; I'm here for you no matter what it is. Let me put some ointment on your burn, and then we will go to the hospital and get you checked out okay?"
Nodding Claire stood and followed her mother to the bathroom so that her wound could be cared for. When she lifted her shirt she heard her mother's soft gasp of shock and disgust at the sight of her stomach. When she looked down she noticed then that there were bruises working their way around her sides and to her back and she had to look away.
As Darcy applied the cream lightly so as not to hurt her daughter further she cried tears from the pit of her soul. As she finished the task at hand she stood and took her only child into her arms. "Claire I love you, and nothing can ever change that. These next few days, weeks, and months aren't going to be easy at all, and you're going to have to do things that you don't want to do, but I will be there every step of the way. First things first, we have to get you to the hospital. That looks like a third degree burn and I don't want it to cause problems. Then we need to get you a restraining order against him. I know it's going to be hard, I really do, but you're not alone anymore darling."
Claire nodded her agreement and let herself be led out of the bathroom and out of the house to her mom's car. They made the drive to the hospital in a teary silence, letting all that had been revealed sink in. They never let go of each other's hands, even at the hospital, except when Claire was taken for x-rays. They filed a report and were given instructions on how to go about gaining a restraining order before being given a prescription for an antibiotic and a pain pill and being sent home. That night sleep came quick for both of the women. The next morning was going to be hard on them both as they filed the restraining order before heading to the attorneys office to begin the divorce paperwork.