Chapter 1
Chicago, Illinois
June 16, 1989
Hope McLeod jolted out of a dead sleep as she normally did, afraid she had overslept again. She couldn’t help but moan as the humidity that Chicago is known for bowled over her body like a steam roller. The sweat dripped down her face, making the cuts around her eye and lip from last night’s beating sting like a bitch. She reached over and turned the air conditioner on, then slid from the bed, careful not to wake Nickolas Davenport, her boyfriend since high school, and bastard extraordinaire. That would make last night’s bout of pissed off seem like nothing at all.
She padded her way into the bathroom in the beat-to-shit-roach-infested-apartment, and turned the cold water on in the shower. The air was just too miserable for the left-handed spigot.
She washed the sweat from her face and body, soaped up her waist-length ginger hair, and then stepped out drying herself off. She ran a brush through her hair, and rolled it up into a bun just to get it off her neck.
God, her mother was going to have an absolute fit when she saw the bruises and cuts on her face, along with her black eye. Normally, her eyes were almost an ice blue, well, one still was, but the other was a nice shade of crimson from when Nick’s fist collided with it, making the blue in the iris pop out even harder, although the lid itself was almost swollen shut.
The rest of her face was ordinary, just your stereotypical plain woman in looks, nothing spectacular as Nick and the mirror take great pleasure in telling her every day. She has strange lips, the bottom fuller than the top, but with perfectly straight, white teeth, courtesy of the braces she had to wear for three years during high school. Her nose was a straight shot down the center of her face, with a small bump in the center thanks to Nick having broken it last year during an argument.
She has your typical body, handful of a bosom, narrow hips, and long, muscular legs for only being five foot five. Since she doesn’t have a car, she has to walk everywhere or use the bus. She would rather walk, it’s better for your body anyway. His majesty the asshole, would really be angry if she started to gain weight. Maybe she was just your plain, average twenty-one year old with self-esteem pounded into the ground.
She padded back to the bedroom, and covered herself with a white, calf-length sundress, then went in and started breakfast. It’s a Sunday morning, and Nick likes a huge breakfast, usually consisting of biscuits and sausage gravy, at least one carton of eggs, pancakes, sausage links and patties, a waffle, pancakes, and toast all made from scratch, well, all but the toast.
She sighed as she looked around at the barely functional kitchen. It is so tiny, she could turn her body around, and be at the other side; let alone have any counter space to work in.
Lord, how did I get here? In high school, I had been the student body president, captain of the debate team, and all-American softball player. I was a straight-A student, graduated at the top of my class with an IQ nearly off the charts. Now, I cannot get out of this nightmare of a relationship. If I even tried, my family would die, of that I am certain. Why should I doubt it after all that sick bastard has put me through? At the end of the day, I am reduced to nothing more than a maid, a whore, and punching bag.
She gave herself a mental shake, and started cooking. There was no use crying over things she couldn’t change.
After taking out her frustration on the biscuit dough, she stuck the biscuits in the oven, and started on the eggs and sausage. Once they were cooked to his royal assholiness’ specifications, usually over hard, she stuck them on a plate, covered them with a paper towel to keep them warm and cut up the bread loaf she baked last night to get an early start on today’s breakfast. She stuck two slices in the toaster, pushed the lever down, and started on the sausage gravy.
As she was taking the biscuits out of the oven, Nick crept into the kitchen, which there was barely room for one, let alone two. He kissed her neck, then gave it a hard bite, his way of saying the food smelled good, and he was hungry.
“It should be ready in just a moment or two, as soon as the gravy thickens.”
“What about the pancakes and waffles?” he asked in his rough, deep, sleep laded voice.
She looked around, unable to believe she had forgotten that. “All right, as soon as the gravy thickens, I’ll make the batter for that, and get them done. It won’t take long.”
He let out a tortured sigh. “All right, I’ll let you cheat this one time. You can use the premixed crap. I’m hungry!”
Yah, I’ll just bet you are after the coke bender you went on last night, you sorry sack of shit! She would never dare to say such a sentence out loud, even if it is true.
“You do remember that I have to go to my mother’s today. She needs help after her stroke last month.” Hope reminded him.
“Yah, yah, whatever, just make sure you get these dishes done before you leave.”
“I can do them when I get back, it’s not like I always leave dishes more than a few hours, Nick.”
His eyes turned dark, his lips fell into a straight slant, as if someone cut them out with a knife. He charged at her like a bull seeing red and backhanded her, sending her to the tile floor. “I told you to do them before! Dennis is coming over, and I will not have my kitchen destroyed!”
She nearly rolled her eyes at the thought of his cocaine dealer thinking anything negative about how the kitchen was going to look.
Dennis personifies the word greasy. He rarely showers, so his hair is long and straggly. His body odor usually takes a week to get out of the apartment after only one ten-minute visit. His shirts were too small over his gigantic belly, as if he thought the barrel size was sexy and continuously wanted to show it off. His jeans rode low on his hips, showing off the fact that he constantly went without any kind of underwear. Whenever she was home, he did nothing but leer at her, as if he was picturing her without clothes and was determined to get a slice, which Nick had forced on her more than a few times. She had gagged the entire time, wanting to just stab herself into oblivion.
As for this being Nick’s kitchen—oh, please! Her name was the only one on the lease, his was never added, and you see how all the attempts to throw him out have fared.
“Get your lazy ass up off my floor and finish my breakfast!” he bellowed.
She slowly stood, her head and jaw throbbing. She finished cooking, and ate slowly, a very small plate of one biscuit with gravy, and a glass of orange juice as sharp pain shot through her jaw making it hard to open, let alone chew. She just hoped that she didn’t have to go back to the hospital with another cracked jaw.
After eating, even though she wasn’t hungry after Nick’s little tirade, she finished dressing, then put makeup over what she was sure was going to be another huge bruise.
“Oh, Hope, two things: One, you had better be back before sunset, and two, when Elaine comes to get you, you will have her drop you off at the train station. I don’t want you hanging around with her unless absolutely necessary.” he said from the doorway.
Even though she had no intentions of listening to him, she nodded her head. She would get there faster, and safer if Elaine took her all the way. Granted, the South Side was a long way from Naperville, but she had the money for gas if she used the money that Nick gave her for the train. The South Side of Chicago was not safe for a woman alone, day or night.
“Answer me, damn it! I’m not talking to hear my head rattle!”
“Yes, Nick.”
Just then, a knock came at the door. Nick stared at her for a moment with an air of pure evil just cascading from his pores, and went to answer it. “Hope, the bitch is here!” he called out loudly.
“Excuse me?” Elaine asked, offended.
“No, I don’t think I will.” Nick said, then pushed past Elaine and walked out the door.
“Oh my god; he is such an asshole!” Elaine said loudly. “What do you see in that monster, Hope?”
“Elaine, please don’t talk about him like that. I don’t need the fallout from it. You’re not the one that has to live with it.”
“You don’t either! You can get away! It’s not like your mother won’t take you in!”
“Elaine, Mom doesn’t have the room, with Gracie and Kenny there. Gracie’s pregnant, and it’s a one bedroom townhouse as it is.”
“Well, there are shelters, Honey. You can’t handle much more of this. I mean, seriously, look at what he did to your eye! He’s going to blind you someday!”
“Elaine, I appreciate the concern, but it’s not as easy as you think to leave. There are circumstances that you don’t know about, and it would destroy me in more ways than I can tell you to leave,” Hope said softly.
Elaine Woodrow had been her best friend since birth. They had their diapers changed together, slept in the same crib, started school at the same time, and had many of their firsts together. They had been together through thick and thin, and now Nick was trying to drive a wedge between them. He apparently wanted Hope all to himself, even to the point of almost forbidding her to see her mother and sister.
“Hope, I worry about you. If you don’t get away, he’s going to kill you.”
“Elaine, just drop it already! I can’t leave, and that’s all there is to it!”
“Can’t…or won’t?”
“Look, if I have to listen to this all the way to Naperville, then I’m going to take the train. I don’t need it right now, Elaine. I have enough to worry about with mom’s stroke, and my sister’s pregnancy. She’s only fifteen for crying out loud!”
Elaine ran her fingers through her long mousy hair, and let out a long sigh. “All right, I’ll drop it, but I’m not going to stop looking for ways to help you.”
“Elaine, if I leave, then he’s going to kill my family. You don’t know him like I do. You don’t know what he’s done to me! He’s psychotic, and enjoys hurting others, he gets off on it. I can’t leave,” Hope said quietly, ashamed of herself for letting it get to this point.
“You truly think he’s going to kill your family?” Elaine’s eyes were peeled back, stunned that it had come to that.
Hope could only nod, tears tightening her throat, threatening to spill over onto her cheeks, making it almost impossible to speak.
“Then you need to call the police, and have a Restraining Order put on him.”
“You’re kidding, right? A Restraining Order is nothing more than a piece of paper, not Kevlar.”
She finished putting on her makeup and put the makeup brush back into the case. She closed it up and put it back in the cabinet next to the tub where it belonged. “Let’s go, please. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
“Damn, you can tell you’re Scottish, you’re as stubborn as a mule.”
“It’s kept me alive this long, so you should be grateful!”
Elaine barked out a laugh, and took Hope’s arm, leading her out to the hallway. She locked the door, and they went to Elaine’s brand new Mustang. Hope was utterly surprised it was still standing with all its parts in this neighborhood! She slid in to the passenger’s side, and Elaine made it roar to life. Hope had always wanted something like this, just to feel the power under her. It’s sleek, fast, and beautiful. Elaine turned on the radio, and the anthem “Living Years” by Mike and the Mechanics cranked out of the speakers. She couldn’t help but sing to it. Hope absolutely loved this song.
Elaine dropped the top in the ’Stang, and they took off like a shot for Hope’s mother’s house.
“Have you ever thought about trying to go pro with your singing?” Elaine asked carefully.
Hope let out a snort. “Yah sure; I am going to be allowed to sing as soon as hell freezes over! Besides, I suck at singing. There isn’t a band around that would take me.”
“Hope, that’s utter bullshit. There are a lot of people that think you have a real talent, and believe you could make millions.”
Hope shook her head. “There is no way in heaven or hell I would ever get up in front of anyone and sing. Not only no, but hell no!”
“Yah, stage fright is a bitch, huh?” Elaine gave her a sideways glance. A few minutes later, Elaine pulled up to First Avenue and Ogden, where she had to wait for traffic to clear the intersection so she could hang a left onto Ogden. The light changed to yellow, and seeing a break, Elaine started to pull out of the intersection. It was then that Hope saw the pick-up truck barreling down First Avenue. All she had time for was to look for that ever non-present brake on the passenger side and call out her best friend’s name in warning before the sound of screeching tires permeated the air, then total, blessed darkness.
“Hope, come on Hope, come back to us!” A gentle, masculine voice kept calling her name from behind.
“Hope, come on, Honey, I’m not going to let you go! Come back to us, Sweetheart.” The kind male voice once again broke through the void. Sirens wailed all around her, but she was too weak to open her eyes. Did Nick finally kill her?
“Hope, come on honey, open your eyes. Come on; let me see those beautiful eyes.”
She did as the voice asked, only because she wanted to see if the face matched the attractiveness of the voice. “That’s a girl, come back to Davy.”
Davy? Who the hell was Davy? “Elaine….where’s Elaine?” she asked again; her voice weak even to her own ears, but she needed to know if her best friend was ok.
“Is Elaine your friend that was driving? We….we got her out. You’re in much worse shape than she is.” he said, running his fingers through her hair, relaxing her.
So this was what a kind touch was like. She’d utterly forgotten how good it felt.
Davy kept talking to her, asking questions, making sure she didn’t fall back to sleep. His voice stayed kind, low, and tranquil. “Honey, do you know who the president of the United States is?”
“Ronald Regan.”
“Can you tell me your full name?” he asked
“Hope Leslie McLeod.”
“How old are you, Honey?”
“I’m twenty-one.”
“Well, Sweetheart, let’s make sure you have your twenty-second birthday, okay? Can you try to stay awake?”
“I’ll try. Why does my face hurt like this?”
“Honey, you were hit by a truck.” The back of his forefinger caressed her cheek.
“I….I was hit by a truck?” she just couldn’t remember!
“Yes, sweetie; but you’re going to be fine. We’ll get you out of here, get you to Loyola University Medical Center, and get you fixed up.”
“Why can’t you get me out of here now?” she asked, panic rising in her chest, making it harder to breathe.
“You’re trapped at the moment, between the frame of the car, the dashboard, and the door. We are waiting on the JAWS of Life to get you out, but it’s going to take about twenty minutes. Do you have any family you want me to call?”
“M…my mother, oh god, she’s just had a stroke. She won’t take this very well.” Hope gave him her mother’s number; he relayed it to someone else, and the person left.
“I want to make you a promise, sweetie. I’m not going to leave your side until I absolutely have to. I’m going to be here with you throughout this entire thing, I swear it.”
“I….I just can’t understand….” she started, and couldn’t finish, as the tears started flowing down her cheeks like Niagara Falls. Her breath came out in short bursts, as she tried to hold in the terror that was coursing through her.
“What don’t you understand?” he asked; confusion thick in his voice. She wished she could see his face, but he was sitting behind her in the back seat.
“I don’t understand why you’re being so kind to me…this is my fault….it’s my fault….” Her voice caught in her throat, choking on the sob trying to force its way out.
“Oh no, honey, no! It wasn’t your fault, not in the slightest!” he said, soothing her hair.
“Yes, it is…if I would just have listened to him and took the train, none of us would be here right now!” she said, sobbing. Nick was going to be worse than a pissed-off grizzly when he finds out about this! She would be lucky to live through it!
“Listened to whom, Hope?”
“Nickolas Davenport, my boyfriend…oh god, he’s going to kill me!” she wailed, unable to keep it in anymore.
“No he won’t honey, not if he loves you.” His voice was gentle, reassuring, but this time it didn’t work.
“No, you don’t understand. He’s…he truly is going to kill me! I didn’t do what he said to do, and he’s going to kill me!” she repeated, more terrified than she could begin to fathom.
“Honey, does he…does he hurt you?” Davy asked, dubious.
She could only nod, the words stuck in her throat.
“Well, he won’t hurt you as long as I am here Sweetheart; I swear on my life.” he vowed, his voice stiff, as if he were angry but trying not to show it.
Hope heard another siren. “Here come your JAWS, honey.” She heard the smile in his voice.
“This is going to hurt, isn’t it?” she asked, still scared.
“Yes, to be perfectly honest. I will be here with you the whole way, and you can squeeze my hand as hard as you want. It will be over quickly, then you will be out of here, and Loyola will take good care of you.”
She heard him whisper something under his breath, but she didn’t have time to ask him what he had said, since another voice called from outside the car. “Davy, it’s here! We need to cover her, and get it rolling. Traffic is backed up for miles!”
“Ok, Mikey. We’re ready here!” Davy loudly called out.
A blanket was put over Hope to keep glass from spraying her face. It vaguely occurred to her how the gapers on the sidewalk would think she was dead, but she honestly didn’t care.
“Now Hope, remember, you can squeeze my hand, and scream all you want, even if you go hoarse. You’ve earned it honey.”
As she nodded, she heard a loud motor fire up, sounding ambiguously like a chainsaw with nearly the same amount of decibels. Davy wrapped both arms around her from behind. She tried to use one of her hands, but her left forearm and elbow screamed in protest as she attempted to grab both of his hands, scared to death. He tightened his arms, giving her a kind of a hug, and then loosened them as the JAWS started cutting apart this beautiful Mustang to get her out. She only breathed hard as the steel that was wrapped around her ankle began digging in further, then finally released. She refused to scream since she had lived through much worse than this.
“Honey, let us move your leg now, don’t you try to move it, okay?” Davy instructed.
“Okay. Thank you so much for being here, in case I don’t get to tell you that later,” she said, her breath still coming in short, fast bursts.
“It has been my pleasure, Sweetheart.” He gave her another quick hug, then she felt someone grab her under the arms, slowly dragging her out of the car. She was loaded onto a backboard, then onto a rolling gurney; the gapers clapping and cheering wildly from the sidewalk. They loaded her into the ambulance, and immediately, something felt very wrong. Her heart started skipping beats, taking her breath. Her chest tightened painfully, the excruciating agony travelled down her arm, back up into her jaw, and down her back. The back of the ambulance started growing dark, as if the sun descended over the horizon, but it was nine in the morning.
The last thing she heard was: “We’re losing her! Grab the defibrillator!” She felt herself being pulled into a different kind of blackness, one that she knew she might not be able to come out of this time. For once, she wasn’t afraid, she just let it take her.
