Wow, it has been a while since this was updated! If it wasn't for someone sending me a picture of a bunny and calling it a plot bunny, this would not have come out. I was convinced that this was a one shot. For the readers to be left sitting, thinking up their own talk and then, this happened.
I also have the best beta in the world to thank for catching all my issues!
Killian took a sharp intake of breath and then nodded his head.
"Okay. But wait a few minutes. I'll be back." He placed a tender kiss on my forehead before releasing me. He threw off the covers and got out of bed. I watched him disappear from the room, and I began to wring out my hands while I planned how to tell him. I adjusted myself on the bed, crossing my legs and pulling my feet underneath me. Placing my head in my hands, I rubbed my temples, sorting out my thoughts with each movement.
After a few minutes—and numerous deep breaths—Killian appeared back in the doorway. Clutched in his hand was a well-worn, chipped blue mug. He returned to the bed, settling in before he pushed the mug into my hand. Nestled in the mug was milky hot chocolate piled high with whipped cream and a light sprinkling of cinnamon. He offered a small, reassuring smile as his hand moved to rest on the knee closest to him. I bit my lip and took another shaky breath.
I sipped the hot chocolate and focused on a place to the right of Killian's head.I focused on the peeling paint, distantly hearing the sirens wail outside the apartment window, and Killian's breathing, heavy in my ear. I moved my gaze to the oceans held captive in his eyes; the waves getting stormier, the longer I stayed silent. Eventually, I broke the silence; my voice no louder than a whisper.
"You know that I was adopted and sent back?" I waited for Killian's affirmative nod before continuing. "And you know that I bounced around a bit before landing with the Nolans?" Another nod. I inhaled deeply, dropping my head. A thick swallow followed. "Well, the only other place that I was in for a long period of time was a foster home that only took the kids in for the money; the Phillips'. I was there for about eighteen months. They had a daughter themselves. She was about two years older than me and she could do no wrong." I paused and took a gulp of the liquid in the mug. I stared at the swirling contents, feeling Killian's hand as it began to rub comfortably up and down my thigh. The silence grew heavy in the room as Killian sat patiently waiting for me to continue. Suddenly, I exhaled, bravery overcoming me.
"I was the eldest of the foster kids, but I was still only seven. If anything happened, I got the blame. If one of the younger ones messed up, I was in trouble for it. For some reason, their daughter, Casey, had it in for me. She would deliberately do stuff that would get me in to trouble. They…" My voice broke. I coughed and cleared my throat. "They didn't punish like anybody else did. They used to have this cupboard. It was about three-foot-tall and about a foot wide. It was walnut-coloured with a large copper bolt on the door. There was a small knot on the inside of the panel on the right. Do you know how I know that?" I looked up into the swirl of emotion that was storming in his deep, blue eyes. I watched the realisation flood into his eyes. His mouth opened slightly as if to say something, but I continued before he could. "I was put in the cupboard. They'd lock me in for hours at a time."
I paused, feeling the tears well up. I moved my gaze up to the corner of the room, picking out the cobwebs that had formed there. I blinked, the warm salty water making tracks down my cheeks. I heard the covers rustling as Killian moved before the rough pad of his thumb swiped along my skin. The warmth of his palm rested on the side of my face. I kept quiet as the emotions overwhelmed me.
"Hey," Killian's deep baritone voice filled the room, "we don't have to do this. If it's too much, we can stop for tonight."
I shook my head. "No, if I don't get this out, the nightmares will continue. I've just never told this to anyone before. Not even David knows."
I adjusted myself on the bed, displacing Killian's hand from where it was on my knee. I moved closer to him, lying down at his side; my head rested on his chest. His arm moved around my back; one of his hands gripped my waist; the other caught my hand from where it was pulling the loose threads of my pyjama bottoms. He threaded his fingers through mine and squeezed them. I turned my hand over and played with the cool ring that sat on his forefinger; the cold metal comforting under my finger.
"One particular day, I… erm... I was with some of the younger children when Casey let out a yell. She shouted my name. I ran into the room where she was. There was a large, white shag rug. Ugliest thing in the world, but for some reason Mrs Phillips loved it. None of us were allowed in there, not even Casey. However, Casey had brought a glass of juice—grape if I remember correctly—into the room. She'd dropped it and decided that she was going to blame it on me rather than take the blame herself. The spill had caused a large purple stain to form on the rug. The liquid had soaked into the fibres and there was no chance of it coming out. Casey had obviously stalled to ensure maximum damage. So, by yelling at me, I was in the room with the spill. Mrs Phillips came in just after I did, and Casey immediately blamed the mess on me. I tried to defend myself, but nothing would convince her that it wasn't me. I was slapped and stupidly, I thought that was it."
I heaved a deep sigh and focused on the palm clutched in mine. The rough, calloused skin caught against my soft fingertips. I zeroed in on the ring that was sitting beside mine. The thin silver band interwoven with the Celtic pattern, indicated Killian's heritage. It matched mine, my engagement ring completing the package. The soft green stone matching Ireland's fields along with the colour of my eyes sitting amongst the cluster of diamonds, altogether shaping the flower that sat in the middle of my ring. The ring gave me hope and assurance that I was no longer in that place. I had been rescued. My lifeline was sitting beside me, clutching me. His deep breaths echoed in my ear; his patience filling through the room.
"But I was grabbed by my hair and pulled to the cupboard. I was harshly pushed inside, and I bashed my head on the way in, getting a golf ball sized bump for my trouble. I could hear the metal scraping against the wood as the bolt was put in place." I closed my eyes. The thumps from my hands echoing in my ears; the screams for help; my voice growing hoarse. "They left me there. I don't know how long, and the only reason I was let out was because there was a visit from the social worker. I was warned not to say anything when I was talking to her, they'd threatened to take it out on the younger ones."
I sniffed loudly, the tears caused my nose to run. I felt the soft cotton fabric of Killian's t-shirt against my cheek and turned my face so I wouldn't soak his top. The hand on my hip began to rub soothing circles as a soft tissue was pushed into my hand. I sat up and blew my nose, Killian's hand not ceasing its soothing motions. He waited until I had cleaned myself up slightly before pulling me into a tight hug. While still hugging me, he lay down again. His arms around me, keeping me close, reassuring me that it was okay; he was there. A small, soft chuckle left my throat.
"They had one problem when it came to that warning though. They told me and not the younger ones." My lips tightened into a smirk. "One of the very small ones, Belle, saw me and ran over to give me a hug. In front of Regina, who was my social worker, she asked where I had been because she hadn't seen me for two days. I hadn't realised it had been that long. Time was hard to follow when you were stuck in the cupboard. The look of disgust on the Phillips's faces when they realised that they'd been ratted out by a four-year-old, that's something that I'll never forget. Regina took me immediately from the house, but I didn't get the rest of my stuff until two days later. I went to school that day and when I came back, Regina made sure that my belongings along, with everybody else's, were packed up and sitting on our beds. The Phillips were arrested for child abuse shortly after, and I testified against them. They were actually caught on some other charges as well, so they were put away for a long time." I turned my head and buried my face in Killian's top, the tears forming again.
"The nightmares began about a week ago. I was watching the news while on my break and it came up. They were being released. It's been twenty-two years. This shouldn't affect me like it does. But… I… I'm scared." Killian's arms were impossibly tight around me. He buried his face in my hair and rubbed my back.
"They aren't coming anywhere near you. I won't let them. You're safe now." He whispered in my ear. We held on to each other, the comforting weight grounding us. I lifted my head and leaned back slightly.
"I want to find them. Everyone who was in that house at that time. I want to find them and see that they're all okay." I said determinedly.
"Okay. We'll find them," Killian agreed as he pulled me back to him, catching my head under his chin and tucking me into his warm embrace.
Within a quiet room that night, the deal was struck. The lost were going to be found.
From the sound of that ending, it sort of sounds like I'll be continuing this story... I'm not sure how I feel about that. I may continue and you'll find the six other kids who were in the house at the time. I wouldn't be too hopeful just in case though. I do have an actual ongoing story that was planned to contend with first.
Anyway, until then, read and review!