Chapter 10
Allie felt Cora's eyes on her as she poured coffee for them both. She looked up, and because she knew she could never lie to Cora, no matter how hard she tried, she took a deep breath and remained silent.
Cora tugged the sleeve of Allie's sweatshirt and said, "Let's go into the living room. Get comfortable."
Allie nodded and followed her to the couch where they sat and sipped their coffee. Suddenly chilled, Allie wrapped her hands around her mug. Chris was not here to warm her up. And somehow, she knew this would not be an easy conversation.
"Let me see," Cora said, taking Allie by the chin and tilting her head. "He tried to choke you. What else?"
Silently, she lifted her sweatshirt to show Cora where Stephen had kicked her on her right side. The purplish skin was slightly swollen around the area where his boot had made contact with her ribs. "How does it feel to breath?" Cora asked.
"Hurts like hell," she replied.
Gently, Cora probed. Allie sucked in a sharp breath. "You should probably get an x-ray to see if it's broken but we both know the treatment is the same whether it's broken or bruised. Rest. Take some ibuprofen if you need it. If the pain gets worse you can still get an x-ray and get a scrip for stronger pain meds. Keep icing it for another day or so. If you can take off work tomorrow, that would be good."
Allie nodded.
"Anything else?"
"I hit my head." She indicated a spot on the back of her head.
Again, Cora probed as she had Allie's ribs. "How're you feeling? Headache? Dizziness? Nausea?"
"No. I iced it pretty quickly. Just a little tender when you touch it."
Cora nodded. "We'll keep an eye out for any symptoms of a concussion. You want to tell me what happened after you and Chris left my place last night?"
Allie curled her legs under her and leaned against the couch cushions. Staring at her fingers clenched around her mug, she began to tell her story. "Chris dropped me off. He walked me to the front door but didn't come in . . . maybe five minutes after he left . . . someone . . . someone knocked on the door. I didn't even think I just . . . I opened it." She finally looked up at Cora. "I thought it was Chris coming back," Allie closed her eyes and turned away.
When she didn't continue, Cora urged, "But it wasn't Chris."
Allie shook her head and whispered, "No. It wasn't." The rest of the story came out haltingly, reluctantly.
"Damn," Cora murmured. "I'm sorry you went through that crap, again. Stephen ran, huh?"
"The second Chris burst through the door. It was like a scene out of a movie, Cora."
"Wish I had been there to see it."
A tiny grin slid across Allie's face. "He was pretty amazing."
"You didn't call the police?"
"Chris wanted to. He wanted to take me to the hospital, too."
"You said no?"
Allie nodded. "I knew I wasn't hurt that badly. Not like . . . the last time."
"Shit, Allie. He tried to kill you," Cora stated.
"No, Cora. He got pissed because I fought back. I've never . . . it was the first time I fought him."
"If Chris hadn't come in when he did, do you think Stephen would have stopped?"
"I think so."
"Who would have stopped him? What would have made him stop hurting you?"
"If I hadn't let him in in the first place, none of this would have happened."
"Allie. C'mon. You still blaming yourself for this shit?" Cora asked as she set her mug on the coffee table but kept her eyes on Allie. Her stare was unrelenting and Allie looked away, blinking back tears.
"I let him in," she repeated.
"That doesn't give him the right to assault you, Allie." After a pause, she continued, "Chris came in your house. Did he hit you or kick you or try to choke you?"
Still trying to hold back tears, Allie lowered her eyes, remembering how tender Chris had been. Even when she'd climbed into bed with him, he hadn't tried to seduce her or coerce her. He'd simply held her, knowing it was exactly what she needed at the time. "No," she whispered.
"Honey," Cora's voice softened and she tilted Allie's chin up so she could look her in the eye. "No one has the right to attack you. No one. I don't care who he is or if you let him in or not. You understand?"
Allie nodded.
"I want to take pictures of your bruises," Cora stated as she reached for her phone.
"Why?" Allie asked, leaning away.
"Evidence."
"Evidence?" Allie's voice cracked.
"He was choking you. That's a crime. Chris was right. You should call the police."
"No. I don't want to do that, Cora. Stephen is . . . he's . . ."
"He's what?" Cora asked when Allie stopped.
"I don't know. I just . . . I'm not sure I can do that yet."
Cora took a deep breath. "Look," she began, "it's up to you how you want to handle this. You know I love you and I'll support you no matter what you decide. You're not alone, Allie. You've got Nathaniel and me and it sure looks like you've got Chris, too. But remember, Stephen landed you in the hospital before. He'll keep coming at you until you do something to stop him. What are you going to do when Chris isn't around to scare the shit out of Stephen? You think Stephen will stay away from you on his own? He'll know when Chris is out of town on a road trip. He'll know you're alone. You think he won't come after you then?"
Allie slammed her mug on the coffee table and shot up off the couch, wincing in pain. Her hands trembled and she clasped them in an attempt to calm herself. She knew Cora was right. Stephen wouldn't stop, especially now that he knew about Chris. And even though Stephen had run when Chris showed up last night, she was sure it was only because he'd been caught off guard. But now he knew. He knew that Chris cared about her and would come to her defense. That would probably just rile him up even more. "I'll have to face him in court."
"But you won't be alone. I'll be there with you. And remember, the state could still press charges against him even if you don't."
"He could go to jail."
"Yeah. Wouldn't that be great?!" Cora exclaimed.
Allie paced away from the couch then turned back to face Cora, hands still clamped together in front of her, eyes wide.
"I'm not saying it'll be easy," Cora declared, "but if you want him out of your life, it may be the only way." When Allie didn't respond, she continued, "I can help."
"You've done so much for me, already, Cora."
"That's what friends do, Allie. We're here for each other. You would do the same for me, right?"
Allie nodded, "Of course."
"So. Should we look online, just to see what's involved?"
After a brief pause, Allie concurred, "OK."
They made lunch and sat together at Allie's kitchen counter, laptop in front of them. They read through the Pine Tree Legal Assistance website. "Well," Cora asked, "what do you think? Ready to take that first step?"
Allie took a deep breath, "I'm scared," she confessed.
"I know, honey. But you've got a team of us behind you." She squeezed her shoulder and smiled. "We'll get through this. I promise."
Together they filled out the paperwork online for a "Protection from Abuse Order." Because Allie had to include as much detail as possible about what Stephen had done to her, by the time they'd finished, she felt drained, almost as if she'd gone through everything again. But Cora was there offering support and hugs when a memory seemed too painful. Seeing Stephen's actions in black and white made it somehow surreal, as if it had happened to someone else. And perhaps it had. Perhaps Stephen had hurt "Alice" but not "Allie." But every time she took a breath she knew the truth.
"I don't have to be at work until 7:00 tomorrow night. I can go with you to the District Court in the afternoon," Cora said. She promised she'd be a witness and urged her to ask Chris if he would as well. Before she left to meet Nathaniel for dinner, she hugged Allie saying, "You want to stay at my place tonight?"
"No. But thank you, Cora. If I'm going to do this, I can't be afraid to be alone. I can't let Stephen control me. This is good practice for me."
"Call me if anything—"
"I will. Now go. Don't keep Nathaniel waiting."
Allie made herself a salad for dinner. When she finished eating, she decided to watch some of Chris' game as she sipped a mug of hot chocolate. She wanted to unwind and the truth was, she missed Chris even though she'd been with him last night and early this morning. She missed his warmth, his tenderness, his concern. Maybe watching the game would help her feel closer to him. And after seeing The Blades live, she thought she might be better able to follow the game. She wanted to become accustomed to watching him play despite the inherent violence. Because it was Chris. And it was what he loved to do. It was part of what made him who he was. He'd proven to her last night that he was courageous and fierce and protective and gentle. She wanted to at least appreciate what he did for a living even if she wasn't crazy about it. And she wondered how she'd feel, how she'd react, if she saw him fight again. Partway through the second period, the opportunity presented itself.
Allie watched silently as Chris' opponent seemed to get the better of him. The guy yanked Chris' jersey and it came partway over his head, effectively locking his right arm so he couldn't fight back. Two hard punches to his face knocked him to his knees. "Oh, God," Allie murmured and wrapped her arms around herself. After a couple more shots hit their mark with Chris unable to retaliate, the two linesmen got between them and separated the combatants. When Chris stood and pulled his jersey down, Allie saw blood trickling from his mouth; he looked haggard. Surprisingly, she didn't feel frightened or threatened. Instead, she hurt for him; this time he was the victim.
One of the announcers said, "Well, that's a bit of a surprise. Tobias usually handles this guy fairly easily."
His partner concurred saying, "He seems a little off his game tonight."
"I agree. He's lacking intensity, like he's just going through the motions."
"Yes. And that's unusual for Tobias."
Allie watched Chris skate off the ice holding a towel to his lip. To a certain extent, it paralleled last night and Allie wished she could be with him right now, offer him the same comfort he'd given her. A sudden protective urge shot through her. Silly. He was a big, tough guy who didn't need her protection. But still, the feeling prickled within her.
As the game wore on, Allie understood what the announcers meant; Chris didn't seem into the game. It was like his head was somewhere else. And Allie had a feeling she knew where that might be.
After the opposition scored to take the lead, Allie noticed that Chris did not play the rest of the game. The Blades lost by one goal. She clicked the TV off and wondered if she should try to contact him. She didn't want to intrude and he'd done enough for her already. So instead, she decided to take a hot bath then go to sleep. She'd been putting ice on her ribs on and off and had felt cold all day.
Allie climbed into bed about 11:30. The cell phone on her bedside table beckoned. She reached for it but stopped and stared at it. Finally, she gave in. Leaning back against the pillows she texted Chris: I saw the game. U OK?
After a few minutes when Chris hadn't replied, Allie decided he was already asleep or maybe just not in the mood to talk. Honestly, she wasn't sure how he'd be feeling after the kind of game he played. As she leaned over to place her phone back on the bedside table, it dinged.
Chris: U watched?
Allie: I did.
Chris: U saw the fight?
Allie: I did.
Chris: Sorry.
Allie: U OK?
Chris: Fine. U?
Allie: Fine.
Chris: Really?
Allie paused before responding. How was she feeling? Truly? If she wanted to be honest with herself, she admitted that she wanted Chris' arms around her again. Wanted his heartbeat thrumming in her ears and his warmth enveloping her body. Because, damn it, she was still cold, even after the hot chocolate and the hot bath. And she missed his presence. But she couldn't tell him all that.
Allie: Filled out some forms for protection from abuse. Bringing them to district court tomorrow.
Chris: Good. Want me to go with u?
Allie: Cora's coming.
Chris: Want more company?
Allie: Can we talk?
Chris: Now?
Allie: Ur tired. Long night, long game. Sorry. Tomorrow.
Less than a minute later, Allie's phone rang.
"I'm never too tired to talk to you, Allie," Chris said after Allie answered. But she thought he sounded worn out.
"You sure you're OK? You looked wiped tonight, especially after the fight."
"I'm sorry you had to see that."
"Your lip was bleeding."
"I'm fine. No worries, eh. So tell me about this 'protection' thing."
After Allie explained it to him he said, "I'm glad, Allie. It's the right thing to do. Like I said, I'll come with you if you want me there."
"I may need a witness at the hearing. Would you be willing—"
"Whatever you need. I'm in."
She said nothing, feeling overwhelmed by his willingness to put himself on the line for her.
"Allie? You there?"
"Yeah. Thank you," she said simply.
"Cora still with you?"
"No. She wanted me to stay at her place tonight, but I said no."
"How come?"
"I . . . I want to be able to be alone and not be afraid all the time. Especially in my own house."
"You don't have to prove anything to anyone, Allie. You've already proven how brave you are."
She rolled her eyes. "Don't be so damn nice, Chris."
"I'm being truthful," he stated.
Unable to speak, Allie's breath hitched as she tried to hold back the sudden tears that pooled in her eyes.
"Allie?" When she didn't answer he asked, "You OK?"
She nodded then remembered he couldn't see her. Finally, she replied, "I am."
He hesitated before saying, "Hey, Allie, I don't want you to think I'm asking for something more here, but if you want, I'll come over and stay the night."
It was what she wanted but hadn't had the courage to ask. So instead, she replied, "You got, like, no sleep last night. And even though I don't know much about hockey, I think your game may have suffered a little. I already feel bad that you were late to practice and—"
"Allie. Stop," he cut in, "just tell me what you want."
Stephen had never given her an option like this: "Just tell me what you want." Jesus Christ. She wanted Chris. She must not be thinking straight—must still be emotionally raw from reliving the crap that Stephen had put her through, not to mention what he'd done to her last night.
"Allie," he murmured.
His velvet voice caressed her bruised feelings like a salve on a burn. She swallowed. "Yeah?"
"What do you want?"
"For you to come over. Stay with me tonight," she whispered.
"I'll be there by midnight. You need anything?"
"Just you."
As Allie and Chris stood gazing at each other in her foyer, her eyes roamed his face, lingered on his bottom lip sporting a small cut on the left side, moved to his bruised left cheek then settled on his eyes. "I look like hell, eh?" he asked.
She offered a half smile and shook her head. "Never."
He smiled back then winced a bit.
"Sore?" she asked.
"A little. How're you feeling?"
"I've been icing my ribs all day. My head is fine. Only hurts if I press on the spot."
He nodded then reached out and gently wrapped his fingers around her upper arm. Without hesitation, she walked into his embrace. Immediately, his warmth enveloped her. It was the first time since she'd climbed into bed with him the previous night that she didn't feel chilled. She slid her arms around him and sighed, resting her head against his shoulder. She felt his fingers run through her hair and his lips touch the top of her head.
"You want something to eat or drink or anything?" she asked as she tilted her head back.
"No. Thanks. I'm just tired. You?"
"Exhausted."
And so Allie found herself in her bedroom with Chris. She hadn't altered it much since she'd been a teenager except to replace a pink frilly bedspread and curtains with a simple burgundy comforter and insulated drapes—much more practical and understated than her taste at 14! Instead of posters of her favorite actors and bands, prints from the Portland Museum of Art announcing Van Gogh, O'Keefe, and Monet exhibits hung on her walls. Her dresser was a vintage Art Deco piece her father had picked up cheaply at a yard sale when she was a kid. She always loved it but didn't really know why. As she looked at its warm cinnamon colored wood finish, she realized its strong, straight lines, curved edges and round mirror gave it a graceful appearance, as well as a suggestion of sturdiness, solidness.
She watched Chris stare out her window. He wore a pair of dark blue and grey plaid, flannel lounge pants riding low on his hips, and a grey t-shirt that, while not tight by any means, hinted at his muscled physique beneath. An overwhelming need to touch him emboldened her enough to pad softly up to him, slide her arms around his waist and rest her head against his broad back. He turned his head slightly and ran his hands along her arms. "What are you looking at?" she asked.
"The moon. The stars. Checking for Stephen's car." She sucked in a breath and began to pull away. But Chris held on and turned fully towards her. "What is it, Allie?" he murmured.
"For a minute there I forgot about him."
"Damn. Didn't mean to remind you." His hands slid around her.
"It kind of surprises me that I actually can forget, even if it's only for a few minutes." She looked up at him, "You do that for me." After a pause she simply said, "Thank you."
"Sweetheart, I wish I could change your life so that this shit never happened. So that your parents were still alive. So that you never met that bastard."
"But then maybe I wouldn't have met you," she confessed.
"What you went through isn't worth it. You don't deserve any of it. And we might have met even if all that shit didn't happen to you. Or maybe you would have met someone else. Someone who—"
She touched his lips with gentle fingers. "Chris. Stop. You are . . . so special." Under different circumstances, she might have been too shy to express such emotions. But everything that had happened with her parents and Stephen, and the way Chris had stepped in without hesitation or question showed her that holding back wasn't always the right thing to do. Especially if it meant losing a chance to be with Chris.
He closed his eyes. "God, Allie. You humble me. I'm just a freaking Cementhead who plays hockey."
Her fingers skimmed along his cheek and delved into his hair. "You're so much more than that." She pulled his head down to her and lightly touched her lips to his. "Does it hurt?"
He opened his eyes and smiled. "A little. You?"
A tiny giggle escaped her. "A little," she echoed.
"So maybe we need to heal up 'a little' before we do anything else, eh? Unfortunately."
The tiny giggle grew into a full laugh. "Unfortunately," she agreed. "Cementhead?!"
They slept through the night in Allie's bed, peacefully, soundly, and with one of them always in contact with the other—his hand on her thigh; her fingers wrapped around his arm; her back pressed into his side; his arm thrown across her protectively. No matter how they moved while sleeping, they somehow never lost that physical connection.
"Hidden Place"
Through the warmest cord of care
Your love was sent to me
I'm not sure what to do with it
Or where to put it
I'm so close to tears
And so close to
Simply calling you up
I'm simply suggesting
We go to the hidden place
That we go to the hidden place
We go to the hidden place
We go to a hidden place
Now I have been slightly shy
And I can smell a pinch of hope
To almost have allowed
Once fingers to stroke
The fingers I was given
To touch with but careful, careful
There lies my passion, hidden
There lies my love
I'll hide it under a blanket
Lull it to sleep
I'll keep it in a hidden place
I'll keep it in a hidden place
Keep it in a hidden place
Keep it in a hidden place
He's the beautifulest
Fragilest still strong
Dark and divine
And the littleness of his movements
Hides himself
Invents a charm
That makes him invisible
Hides in the air
Can I hide there too
Hide in the air of him
Seek solace
Sanctuary
In the hidden place
In a hidden place
In a hidden place
We'll stay in a hidden place
Oh, in a hidden place
We'll live in a hidden place
We'll be in a hidden place
In a hidden place
by Bjork from Vespertine
Author's Note:
Music: I do not own "Hidden Place"
For me, this song perfectly describes how Allie is feeling about Chris and where their relationship is heading. It also hints at Chris keeping his demons to himself, at least for now (don't worry, he WILL share his past with Allie eventually). And I think it describes Chris/Uncas physically pretty darn well: "He's the beautifulest/Fragilest still strong/Dark and divine." (I love that phrase, "dark and divine!")
What Bjork said about this song (from Geniusdotcom), at least to me, describes exactly what they need in each other. (They're almost there!):
"'Hidden Place' is sort of about how two people can create a paradise just by uniting. You've got an emotional location that's mutual. And it's unbreakable. And obviously it's make-believe. So, you could argue that it doesn't exist because it's invisible, but of course it does."
A very helpful website I found in my research was the Pine Tree Legal Assistance site which basically walks someone through the process of filing a "Protection from Abuse Order." It explains what to expect at each step, how to prepare for a hearing, etc.
A special thank you to BrynnaRaven for her help with questions I had about a couple of things in this chapter; she helped me break through a bit of writer's block.
Any incorrect info regarding medical issues are completely my fault. You medical types out there—you know who you are (BrynnaRaven, MedicineWoman, anyone else?)—please keep me honest!
Thank you Mohawk Woman for your continued support and the idea of how Allie getting a restraining order might help her relationship with Chris move forward—stay tuned!
I almost ended this chapter before Chris went to Allie's house but Suchgoodluck got me thinking it would be too cruel to have two chapters in a row where they aren't together. And obviously, Chris and Allie had other ideas-and they let me know it!
And as always—thank you readers and reviewers for your affection for this story and for your patience as Chris and Allie's relationship slowly develops—you are all truly amazing!