Finding My Way Home

Chapter 35

Ethan

I have a primal urge to find the fuckers who hurt my wife, cut off their dick and balls, and shove them down their throats until they choke to death. That's how pissed off I am now. I can't let Diane see how angry I am, because it will only upset her further, and that's the last thing I want to do. Diane was asleep five minutes after we left the parking garage, and I can understand how this morning drained her energy. If my reaction is any indication as to how she feels, it's not surprising that she passed out in the car. I take the longest route home because I need to calm the fuck down, and driving does that for me.

After hearing what I did this morning, I know I made the correct decision about delaying this conversation until after the holidays. If my kids ever saw me as angry as I am now, it would change our relationship. They would fear me, and that's the last thing I need now. I pull into a parking lot and text my father. I've never needed him more than I do now.

Dad, I need you at my house ASAP.

Where are you?

We're on the way home from the hospital.

Is Diane ok?

No, neither of us is ok. I need you.

I'll be waiting for you. Drive safely son.

Thanks, Dad. I love you.

Love you too son.

Diane slept the entire drive home, and when I pull up into the driveway, the front door opens, and my mother and father are standing on the porch. Diane stirs from her sleep as I lift her out of the car.

"Are we home already?" she asks sleepily.

"Yes, sweetheart, we're home. I'm taking you upstairs, and we'll get you into your comfortable pajamas, and then you can go back to sleep. Does that sound okay honey?"

"Yeah, that sounds so good. Love you Ethan."

"Love you too baby."

Fifteen minutes later, Diane is sleeping peacefully. I close the door quietly and go down to the kitchen where my parents wait for me. My father has his coat on and grabs my arm. "Get your jacket. We're going for a drive. Your mother will stay here until we get back."

"Where are we going?"

"We're going to the cabin."

The cabin is a little shack where my father goes fishing. It's about an hour's drive from my house, and as my dad drives, I stew in my anger. Even my body feels overheated. "Why are we going to the cabin?"

"You need a place to vent your anger. I can see it all over you. I don't want you to explode in front of the kids or Diane. You need to do this in private."

I can't blow my stack in front of everyone, and by the time we get to the cabin, I'm about to implode. I get out of the car and scream at the top of my lungs. I'm surprised I did not bruise my larynx. I scream for a good five minutes, then fall to my knees and cry from the deepest part of my soul.

My father sits on the cold ground next to me and cradles my head in his lap. His firm hand runs over the top of my head, and I lose it again. Months of worry, frustration, and loneliness pour out of me. I can't stop it, and even if I could, I need to get this out of me before we return home. My baby girl is just beginning to relax, and she does not need to see her father have a meltdown.

"What they did to her Dad, you should have heard what they did to my beautiful Diane. They pinned her arms and legs to the ground. They tore at her clothing. One of the fuckers jacked off in front of her while she watched him. That's when Diane lost consciousness. It's what saved her. If she hadn't had the seizure, they would have raped her. Oh, God, why Dad, why did this have to happen to her? She never hurt anyone and the fucker who hit her sits in his warm house with an ankle monitor, while my wife continues to suffer. I want to hurt someone. I want to take my bare hands and beat someone violently. I have never felt such intense rage and hatred against another human being, but I swear to you, I could kill someone and not feel one ounce of remorse."