Chapter 5

Claire heard muffled voices around her and she struggled to make out what was being said. No matter how hard she strained her ears to listen the words wouldn't get any clearer for her. It was as though the voices were coming from the end of a long tunnel. She couldn't even separate the male voices from the female ones, but somehow she knew that both were present. If she could open her eyes, then she see who it was that was with her and talking. For that matter she could actually see where she was. Her eyes were working about as well as her ears though, providing her with only a clouded and hazy view. She screamed out in frustration, or thought that she did, but it turned out to be only a moan of pain.

She could sense that her moan had brought the talk to a stand still and suddenly she was the focus of all the attention. She felt someone take her hand, squeezing it desperately. She gave a small squeeze back and tried again to open her eyes with no success. The voices seemed to be closer to her now, not so far off, but she still couldn't completely make out the words. She heard her name and turned her head in the direction of the voice who spoke it. In an attempt to let them know that yes she did hear them she moved her lips, trying to make the words but her throat was too dry and nothing came out. Time after time she tried and finally managed a dry, hoarse whisper.

"I need water."

Within a few minutes a straw was put into her mouth and she sucked, drinking down the water in big, greedy gulps. When she felt that she could speak she let the straw fall away and tried again to form the words. "Where am I and why are my eyes not working for me?"

A sob came from her right side and she turned her head that way. A fuzzy silhouette came into view and instinctively she knew that it was her mom. Why was her mom sitting her holding her hand and sobbing?

"Mrs. Maxwell, your eyes are swollen, but in the next day or so that should be better for you. I'm Doctor Young, and you're in the hospital. You were attacked this afternoon. You placed a call to 9-1-1 and the paramedics found you."

Suddenly in a rush it all came flooding back to her. Logan had come, broken in, smashing the glass out of the back door. He had violently attacked her and raped her. His seething words came back to her, hitting her full force in the heart, breaking it all over again. She could feel the tears welling up behind her eyelids with no where to go and briefly wondered if she would drown in them.

"Claire I understand that you have been through a very traumatic experience but do you think you would be up to answering some questions for us?"

"Traumatic, doctor that was only a new level of the life I've been living for years. It's the reason I left. Ask your questions." Claire refused to let go of her mothers hand and squeezed it tighter.

"Alright then," Dr. Young cleared his throat and continued. "I assume by your statement that you know the person who attacked you and that this wasn't a random act of violence. Is that correct?" At the nod of Claire's head he went on. "That is something that you will have to go over with the police then, and they can handle that end of it. Now, can you remember anything that happened this afternoon, anything at all?"

Reaching for her water and taking another sip Claire said, "I unfortunately remember it all, every single blow and word. I heard something out back and I just assumed that it was an animal of some sort. I got up to go see and when I didn't see anything I turned to go back to the living room. That was when I heard the glass break and I turned to see Logan standing in the kitchen with me. He grabbed me by the hair and slapped me a few times. One thing led to another and after a fist here and there he raped me. I remember feeling like I was being torn apart. Then he kicked me in the ribs a few more times and left. I grabbed the phone to call someone and that was the last thing I remember."

Claire heard her mother sobbing heavily beside of her and she rubbed her thumb over the back of the older woman's hand comfortingly. "So, doctor, I told you what I remember; now it's your turn. How bad is it?"

The doctor stood at the foot of the bed, and picked up her chart before speaking. "Well Claire, it looks like your left wrist is broken, which we will need to cast now that you're awake. It's not to serious, a minor break really. You won't have to wear the cast more than four weeks. You have three broken ribs; one nearly punctured your lung. A centimeter more and it would have. As it stands now your right lung is bruised pretty badly but it won't be any issue in your healing. You had a nasty cut on your cheek, which is the main cause of the swelling in your left eye area. Your nose is cracked but it should heal nicely. You have several bite marks across your chest that we've medicated and bandaged as well."

She heard him slide the chart back into the foot of the bed and she wished that she could sit up straighter in the bed. "What about the rape? Did he cause any damage with the rape? He said that he would make sure I never had kids, please tell me."

"Mrs. Maxwell, I'm Reagan Brunell, a gynecologist specializing in the care of rape victims. I wasn't able to thoroughly examine you before but now that you're awake it should be easier. Why don't you let them get that wrist fixed up for you and then you and I can talk."

Nodding Claire felt people on each side of her, helping her to sit straighter in the bed. Had she said out loud that she want to sit up? She didn't think so, so it must have been necessary to get her arms fixed. Dr. Young talked her through each and every step of the casting process so that she would be at ease as much as possible. When he was finished he told her that he would be in later to check on her and that in the meantime if she needed anything for pain to press the button that was next to her right side. Claire felt her mother put something in her hand and mumble that this was the button for her morphine drip if she needed it at all.

When Dr. Young left the room Dr. Brunell stepped to the side of the bed. "Claire, can I call you Claire?" At the nod of approval Dr. Brunell continued. "I'm going to do a typical exam on you; however, I will be using a special scope that will be able to photograph any damage that might be done. That will help in the prosecution should it come to that, is that okay with you?" Again Claire nodded yes and then was asked, "Do you want your mother to stay in the room while we do this, or would you like her to step out?"

"Stay mom, please," Claire said. She wanted her mom there to hold her hand and tell her it was all going to be alright, and she knew that her mom would be worried sick if she had to leave her side.

Twenty minutes later the exam was over and Dr. Brunell took a seat at the side of the bed. "Well Claire would you like to know what I found."

"Of course," Claire said weakly.

"It looks as if there was some damage done to the cervix that could cause issues with carrying a child full term. I know that sounds horrible but there is a bit of good news in this. The damage can be repaired through and outpatient surgical procedure. It's a simple fix. That is the worst of the damage that I found, the only thing that will require repair."

"It can be fixed though, right?" It was the first words that Claire could remember hearing her mother speak.

"Yes, Mrs. Ryan, it definitely can be repaired."

After a bit more talk about options for her Claire fell asleep. She slept deeply and dreamlessly probably thanks to the pain medications that were coursing through her veins. What ever brought on the sleep, she really didn't care, she was only thankful for the sleep.

Three days later she could get up and move around on her own and was discharged from the hospital. She took with her four different prescriptions, each for something different, but she also took with her the knowledge that she was the only one who could dictate how her life to this point would affect her. In the hospital parking lot waiting for her mother to pull around to get her she made decisions in her mind about her future. She knew that she would never trust another man again. Without trust there would be no relationship of any kind either. She made up her mind that she wanted to move out of Louisiana, to start a new life, doing things her way. As soon as she was healed and the divorce and name change was final she would pack her meager belongings and go. Where, she wasn't quite sure yet, but there was time to decide all of those details.