Hiding Within The Betrayal

Chapter Thirty Five: Is That You Daddy?

"I'm the one who went to get help." I told him.

He nodded politely. Waiting for me to carry on.

Hesitant to continue my story, I wasn't sure if I was doing the right thing; for so many years I had bottled away the specifics. I had kissed men before Patrick. The only difference here was the intimate relationship we had, we were so much more than what I had with the others and I was sober for starters. Never did the horrid memory come to mind until now. Since things had happened between us, the events in my mind lapped over again and again like cars on a race track.

"I was with Jennifer when the man came." I told him, trying to withstand the trauma I had locked away, "We had a shared room with two single beds. I didn't do anything to stop him. I couldn't. I didn't know how to. Not in the moment anyway. I didn't know that my parents-" I let out a hebetudinous breath as a tear streamed down my cheek. He instinctively, without saying a word, reached over to the side table and plucked out a tissue before handing it to me. Once I had steadied myself, I tried again, "I was under the assumption that they were still in the house with us, asleep in their room. When I realised that they weren't, I saw how alone I was. Feeling hopeless, I sat and cried. For how long, I can't say. By the time I went to get help, much later on, I went out the front door. The intruder on his way out had busted the bolt on the door so I didn't need to unlock it. I aimed to find someone. Anyone who might be able to help."

"Before you could do anything the neighbors saw you?" He questioned, clearly resighting words from files he had come across about my accident.

"They were so furious with me." I blubbered, "They thought that I was the one who had broken the hatch on the door. I insisted that I had nothing to do with it but they refused to believe me. They threatened to tell my parents. When I came clean about not knowing where my parents were, they cooled off a little. They searched the house, saw it was the truth. I mentioned my sister. That a man had come and taken her away. They phoned the police. My parents soon arrived. I was interrogated by foreign police officers who didn't really understand what I was saying, at nine years old that was frightening."

"That part didn't phase you though," he accounted.

I squinted, "So what if it didn't? I was still petrified and shook up."

Patrick rubbed his eyes, adjusting himself. "Look, Degarmo I knew all of that already. What is so awful that you kept it a secret for twenty five years and are still avoiding now?"

When he put it that way, it seemed so bizarre. It really had been that long and somehow it only felt like a few years. Bowing my head, "I didn't tell anyone back then. What difference would it make to say something now?"

He grunted in frustration, "You are so stubborn! Look, if you don't want to tell me then fine. Don't. It's personal, I get that. But if it happens every time that we kiss then-"

"He touched me."

"Sorry?"

"He," I gulped back, "The man who took Jenifer. He did things to me."

Patrick was stunned into a state of panic. He just stared at me. Out of annoyance I had detonated. He would have persisted until I told him. So I might as well be honest.

Steadying myself, "I've never been with a man because of what happened. Earlier, you both touched my private area and moaned, combined they triggered this memory, this... This repulsive... Horrible..."

The barricade I had worked so hard to build was crumbling. Unable to withstand the quicksand I had been pushed into. He didn't let me continue. Pulling me close into his chest and protectively landing a quick kiss on my forehead before resting his hand on my shoulder.

Like vomit, it kept coming, "I woke up before she did. I had heard something. Like a window being pried open. The room was far too dark to see anything. I laid there in bed adjusting to the narrow light. Trying to locate the source of the noise, I blinked repeatedly. When I opened them again, there was a shadow of a man. I called out, 'Is that you daddy?' but it wasn't my father who was in our room that night. The intruder did respond though. A sickening softness to his tone, 'yes my daughter?' he came to my bedside and asked me to sit up. In the glow of the night sky and street lamps, I soon realised that he wasn't my father. When he witnessed my expression flip, that's when he knew I had figured it out. I froze. I tried to scream. No noise came. I looked over to Jenifer but she was still unaware; fast asleep. He knelt down and ran his warm hands up my thighs. He reassured me that everything was okay. That I should let it happen. I didn't understand what he was referring to but I was paralyzed, so I just sat there lifelessly. He asked me to stand. I couldn't, even if I had wanted to. So he grabbed me. These bear like claws came to my sides as he flipped me over. His filthy hands reached between my legs. I couldn't hear anything but my own heartbeat. Until touching me made him moan. I heard that. A thick deep masculine groan. I think that's what woke Jenifer. Which in turn caused him to stop. I rolled over to my side, I couldn't move any further. He had moved over to her bed, licking his lips with his hands rotating around the bulge in his trousers like some fucking animal. 'No,' I warned him. It was so quiet: I don't understand how he heard it. He laughed cynically and pushed me onto my stomach. He lectured me that saying no was wrong, 'mummy and daddy would want you to say yes.' Jenifer's eyes were glued to me but I couldn't face her, not until she whispered my name, 'Myra...' He unfastened his belt. His trousers hit the ground. My nightie bunched up under his hands. He moaned my name. I've never felt such agonizing pain. I just lay there. Like some dead fish. I wasn't in my own body. When he had finished with me, he went over to her. He asked her to go with him. After what she had witnessed with me, she said yes. I couldn't bare to open my eyes, 'Goodbye Myra,' he taunted. I just cried. I heard the struggle with the door bolt. I waited. I couldn't bring myself to move. The pain was too much. When eventually, I could stand, I went to get help for Jenifer."

Struck emotionally, "That's why you don't use your first name..."

I pulled myself back. All I could manage was a nod.

He was speechless. Struggling to construct words, "You've kept that a secret, all these years?"

When I didn't respond, he cupped my cheek and placed a soft kiss on my forehead, "Why didn't you tell the police at the time?" There were tears building in the corner of his eyes.

"I was scared they wouldn't believe me."

"Oh Degarmo," his lip quivered.

Our heads lent against one another as we both softly cried. I knew why I was crying but I can't understand why it had made him cry. I thought for a minute, "Of course, if I did tell them, then maybe they would have found him."

"The DNA?" Patrick questioned.

I nodded, "At the time, I thought I was protecting Jenifer by not telling them my problems. If anything, I just made it harder for them to find him. To this day I blame myself for him not being found."

"But you saw his face, you know what he looked like?"

Blowing my nose, "I'm done talking about this."

"But Degarmo, let me help you."

"What use is it now?" I asked bluntly. Shrugging, "She's still missing. It's been twenty five years since she was taken. The one case I will never be able to bring myself to look into is hers. It's too much, I can't."

I stood from his bed, about to flee when he reached out to grab my hand. He didn't grab it but I could see that he was going to. I waited to hear him out, to see if he was going to say anything that I wanted to hear.

"You don't need to do this on your own." He told me hopelessly.

I clenched my fists, "I'm better by myself."