Petal [h.s.]

Chapter 50

TW: mentions of physical & sexual abuse and graphic mentions of self-harm

Violet.

The rest of the week went by quickly. Days at the RSP were busy with another new addition to the group, a boy named Arlo, and intense therapy sessions with a lot of the kids.

They were all in crucial stages of their recovery so it was fast-paced, lots of calls, lots of therapy sessions and lots of group meetings with the colleagues to discuss further action plans.

The week had been so busy that I had hardly seen Harry. I was working evening shifts and he only got home in the early hours from the bar every day. He was usually only awake for about an hour before I had to leave and by the time I got back, he was already there.

The heavy bags under his eyes signalled me he was having just as rough of a week as I did. I called him on Tuesday afternoon to inform him of my chat with Gabriel the night before. I was still shaken up from it and Harry had been so livid with Gabriel he couldn't wait to finish the call with me so he could call him and give him a piece of his mind.

Harry agreed to retrieve the letter from his apartment, but agreed to not give it to Gabriel. Harry would read it and then see if there was anything useful in it. There were still no signs that James could ever be an actual threat and the more I thought about it, the less likely it seemed.

Why would James have men work beneath him that only had four fingers and wanted to strangle his sister? After all, I had never done him anything wrong. I thought about the idea he might be having a psychosis, but the staff at Saint Mary's had informed me he was doing better and that he had been lucid, so that was also ruled out.

Harry and I were convinced it was another gang doing this. They had all the tell-tale signs of a gang and Harry was more and more frustrated each day that Gabriel couldn't see it.

I had avoided Gabriel's wing of the house at all costs and was usually cooped up in Harry's room with the door locked, or hanging out with Eleanor at her house. 

Her and Louis' dog, Billy, was an absolute angel who I had quickly fallen in love with. I visited almost every day and we played in the garden, enjoying the nice weather London had been providing us with for the past few days.

It was Friday afternoon when I was seated in the RSP-office with a cup of coffee. Eve had been going through intense therapy with Rebecca and I was keen on reading up a bit about what had been going on in her life. I almost choked on the coffee in my mouth when I saw what Rebecca had written after one of the therapy sessions.

Apparently, Eve had been heavily abused by her father before he went to prison. He was a criminal who owed people money, and instead of giving them actual money, he lent them Eve. I felt sick to my stomach upon reading the paragraphs that Rebecca had typed, and it made all the more sense now that Eve was completely terrified of men and that she had experience with being strangled, beaten and hurt.

"Jesus." I muttered, earning me the attention of Stephen next to me. "Ah, you reading about Eve? It's completely fucked up... No wonder she hates men."

I nodded in agreement, still letting my eyes run over the document until I couldn't take it anymore and I finally closed it. "Can you believe you'd do that to your own daughter? How sick." I shuddered at the thought, feeling more sorry for the girl than I had ever felt for anyone else. She had nobody. And she was so young, yet had been forced to be so old. No wonder she was an addict.

"Completely repulsive. Hope that bastard never gets out and she gets a nice foster family."

"Yeah." I sighed. "Sadly enough, foster families aren't keen on recovering addicts with an abused past."