Defenseless

Chapter 2

“It’s been too long.” Bree squeezed Charley tight before the two sisters took their seats on the little trendy espresso shop patio. Twisting shadows danced across downtown Portland buildings as wispy clouds scrolled through dazzling sun rays. The scent of coffee percolating mixed with the fresh warm air and intoxicated Charley’s nostrils. It had been a couple months since had moved out and the two had only seen each other a handful of times, despite Bree’s constant efforts. They talked daily through text and phone calls but Chris had started monitoring Charley’s activities. Shortly after they moved in together he began subtly changing and before she knew it Charley was practically under house arrest. She resisted at first but he was so smooth and charming in his appeals that she began to think that it was her own self causing the issues. The sisters sat across from one another at the two person iron grated table and sipped their coffee in comfortable silence for a few breaths.

“So,” Bree began. “What’s new little sister? I haven’t see you in weeks.” Bree’s once-over evaluation of Charley’s body was not unnoticed. “You look skinny.” It was not meant as a compliment. Bree’s lip curled in distaste before she brought her drink to her mouth and sipped tentatively. Charley eyed her sister.

“I know. Things have been a little…. rocky lately. I’ve been stressed.” She didn’t look up. She stared at the coffee and swirled it around inside her mug and watched as the foam of steamed milk churned within the dark steaming liquid. The sun beams pushed their way through the trees that lined the patio and Charley wanted to feel the warmth on her skin. Sighing she removed her heavy, knitted cardigan and let it rest on the back of her chair. She felt a chill from the early morning breeze but the comfort from the amber warmth won out. Finally she looked across the table at her sister. She had been too quiet. Bree’s eyes were fixed in horror. Charley followed her gaze. Charley’s arms were littered with bruises in various sizes and degree of healing. Most no larger than the tip of a finger.

“Are…. are those fingerprints?” Bree finally sputtered. She regained her composure and placed her coffee down, with more force than she had meant, making a loud *CLANK* against the metal table. Charley was startled and flinched.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” Charley chided. “Don’t get dramatic.” 

“Dramatic?” Bree scoffed. She lowered her voice and leaned in, across the table. “Charley. What is going on? Is this Chris? Did he do this?” This was it, wasnt it? This was the reason that Charley had asked Bree to meet her here the second that Chris was out of town for the day on business. She was scared. She was confused. She was hurting. She needed her big sister. But now that salvation was here, quite literally, staring her in the face, she couldn’t seem to make the words come out. Charley thought back to all the little things from the past couple months that culminated into the big things and they all suddenly seemed so insignificant. She was making a big deal out of nothing.

“Of course not.” Charley gently placed her hand atop her sisters. “We roughhouse and things get a little rougher than it should sometimes, but it’s nothing serious.”

“Roughhouse?” Bree wasn’t buying it.
“Charley, those are his handprints on your arms. Do you know how hard someone has to squeeze to leave a bruise like that? That is more than roughhousing.” Charley kept her eyes downcast. She was torn. The sour taste in her mouth and queasiness in her stomach wouldn’t settle. She couldn’t escape the feeling of disloyalty. Like if she did this, said the words, she was committing some unforgivable act of betrayal. Bree could sense the war that was raging in her sister’s thoughts.
“You love him, huh?” She asked softly. Charley nodded, hot salty tears beginning to slip out the corners of her eyes and a thick dry lump at the top of her throat was threatening to cut off her breathe.
“I don’t think he loves you back, Charley.” Bree said as sympathetically as she could. Charley shook her head violently.

“You don’t know him. He does. He does love me.” Bree sat in thoughtful silence for a moment.

“Charley, do you remember Roco?” Charley looked up and blinked at her sister. Confused, she nodded. Bree continued. “You took such good care of him. Do you remember why you chose him? You chose to rescue Roco from the shelter because they told us that he was a bait puppy from a fighting ring and he was horribly abused and no one else would take him. He was too much trouble to train, too skittish and afraid and aggressive. He was hurting. But he didn’t have anyone to stand up for him.” Charley nodded.

“I loved that dog.”

“I know you did. Did you ever hit him? Kick him? Abuse him in anyway?”

“No, Jesus. Of course not.” Charley whispered.

“Exactly. You don’t hurt the things you love. You would have never hit Roco and he was a dog. You, my love, are a human being. You love deep, you fall hard and are loyal to a fault. That is why I love you. But it’s also what’s going to ultimately hurt you. Can you honestly look at yourself and say ‘these are the marks of someone who cares deeply about me and loves me to my core.’?” Bree stared at Charley intently, watching the tears fall and her breath become strangled. 

“He’s hurting me.” Charley hiccuped. Bree breathed out a whoosh of air that she hadn’t realized that she had been holding.

“Then let’s go. You said on the phone that he was gone for the day. Let’s go get your stuff. We will get you out of there today, now.” Charley looked panicked and frantically shook her head.

“No. Please, Bree. Let me do this my way. I need time. I need to do it the right way or it just won’t work. And… and I need to be sure that it’s what I want.”

“Be sure!? What do you mean be sure? Charley, you just told me he is physically hurting you! Honey, How are you not sure?”

“Because it’s not really abuse!” Charley snapped quickly. “I mean yeah, ok, sometimes he grabs me a little tighter than I’d like but he’s never, like, hit me. He just doesn’t know his own strength I think.” Bree looked dumbfounded. 

“I can’t believe you are defending him right now.” She leaned back in her chair and slapped her hands down on the table in defeat. “How can I help you see reason?”

“Oh, my God, Bree. Stop. I am uncomfortable with the way he treats me sometimes, but you know as well as anyone that I deserve it, too. I can admit that I'm a handful. But that is why I am here. I need your help. I want you to know what I am THINKING. I am THINKING about moving back in. I am THINKING about ending this relationship because I don’t like where it’s headed. But please, don’t go all ‘Briana’ on me and try to completely take over. I need your help, but I need to do this my way.” There was a long silence.

“Ok.” Briana conceded. “But when and if things get bad before you're done ‘thinking’ I want you to know that I will be right here ready to help you... with a steaming hot cup of ‘I told you so’.”
“Oh, trust me. I know.” Charley smiled a knowing grin at her sister, but it was humorless. She knew, deep down, Bree was right.