Chapter Thirty-Seven



Justin's P.O.V.



The doc turns up thirty minutes later and Ariya is still completely out of it. When he sees her, he shakes his head and lets me know he's not impressed with the situation.



"What the heck happened here, Justin? Do I need to get the sheriff involved?"



"No, doc. You don't need to get the sheriff. He already knows about the situation. She's a runner. She's been on the run for a while, which is why she hasn't eaten anything. Do you think it's just malnutrition?"



He lets out a deep sigh before answering, "Most likely. I would imagine she's dehydrated as well. I'll attach an IV for fluids, which will help boost her sugar levels and rehydrate her as well. If it's just that, then she'll start to come around once her body recovers a little. If she doesn't wake up after a few bags of fluid, then we have a problem on our hands and she'll need to go in for tests. You going to be ok changing the bag?"



"Yes sir. Do you need to do anything else?"



"I need to assess her for other injuries. Check for broken bones or lacerations. Can you help me with that?"



I frown. Maybe I should get Lou to help him. If anyone finds out we stripped a resident in my care, then there could be a lawsuit on my hands. Although, this would class as an emergency I suppose.



It's as if the doc reads my mind, because he says, "I can check by myself, but it'll be easier to have two sets of hands. This would fall into the emergency category, in case you're wondering about someone filing a suit against you. They can't sue you for administering first aid, especially in the presence of a doctor."



I let out a little sigh of relief and we get to work on checking Ariya over. We don't strip her naked, just take off enough layers to make sure she has no major bleeds or severely broken bones. Obviously, we can't check for small fractures or cracked ribs unless she's awake to tell us about the pain or we take her in for an x-ray. Neither of which are happening right now, so we simply do a quick scan. She's got scratches and bruises all over her arms and legs and I feel bad for making her feel like she had to escape like that. I know she has issues, but ultimately this is my fault. If only I knew how else to get through to her.



The doc breaks my thoughts, "Do you want me to clean her up?"



"No, I can do that. I just wanted to know if there was anything seriously wrong with her and what I should be doing."



"Well, it seems like it's lack of food and water, but you will need to keep an eye on her. If she doesn't come around in the next 24 hours, then you need to call me. When she does wake up she'll be groggy, but you need to make sure she eats and drinks as much as possible. She'll need to take it easy for a while as well. I'll come back to check on her in a few days, unless she needs urgent care."



"Ok. Thanks, doc."



I see him out and then I grab some supplies to take care of Ariya's wounds. I carefully wash her, making sure I pay closer attention to the deeper wounds. I see so much scarring over the parts of her body that are exposed. I actually feel bad, like I'm betraying her, for doing this. I know she wouldn't want me to do this. She wouldn't want me to see her scars, her war wounds. Even though she hasn't been in an actual war, she has been in wars of her own kind. I'm sure a lot of these scars are from her fights, but I wonder just how many have been caused by whoever or whatever made her the way she is.



I struggle to put clean pants on her, but I know she won't want to wake up to find herself half naked. Once all of her wounds are cared for, I quietly make my way out to the barn. I cast one last glance back at her peaceful form and then I make my way down the stairs. I'm trusting that she won't wake up until I get back, at least. Otherwise she might just try to escape again. We are going to have one furious woman once she's fully awake. Oh it's going to be like a hurricane. That is something I'm not looking forward to.





I work with the horses for a few hours and Brad takes away the cattle for the slaughter house. Selling beef is one of the big earners for the ranch, so I try to breed and sell on as many as possible each year. Lou hates that part of the job, so she always makes sure she's out of the way when Brad appears. Unfortunately, it's a necessary evil in these parts. Lou is making dinner and Todd and Mike are finishing up in the barn while I change Ariya's IV bag. That'll be the third bag she's had, so hopefully her body is starting to recover.



I eat dinner with everyone, but then excuse myself to go and sit with Ariya. I don't know if I'm trying to comfort myself or assure myself that she's still there, but I feel the need to sit with her until she wakes up. Maybe it's because I don't want her to be alone when she does finally wake up or maybe it's to ease my guilt at the whole situation. Somehow, I don't think Ariya will be receiving any comfort from my presence. I'm pretty sure she wants to hurt me and in a way, I don't blame her. My plan of action obviously didn't work. Well, that's not strictly true. I did get some information out of her before she escaped, but she wouldn't think it will be of any benefit to her. She might not see it now, but she will. She will understand that talking will help her.



I am so tired. These last few days of little sleep have caught up with me. I allow myself to doze throughout the night, but don't fall into a deep sleep in case Ariya wakes up. Somewhere around 11pm, she stirs. I sit quietly, waiting to see what happens. She's fighting; telling someone to get off her. She's lashing out, her arms and legs are flying everywhere. I'm shocked. So much so that I can't do anything. Not that I can actually do anything anyway. I can't wake her up and I can't ease the nightmare so I just have to let her ride it out. Could this be why she doesn't sleep very well?



She's nearly screaming at someone to get off her. She's literally fighting off an imaginary person. I actually feel sorry for her if she is reliving a memory. There must have been a point where she wasn't strong enough to fight back and I can only imagine what happened to her back then. Maybe this is a memory about her father.



I feel really guilty for putting her through this. While it was her choice to do things the hard way, and it was her choice to escape, it wasn't her choice to be put through this nightmare. She wouldn't have passed out if it wasn't for me. My action plan has to change. Maybe being nice is the better option. She'll be suspicious of someone being nice to her, which is why I didn't think it would work in the first place. Also, how are you supposed to reward bad behavior. You can't deny that beating people up is bad behavior, even if the attack was provoked.



I hear Ariya choke back a sob before she stills, like she's resigned herself to whatever is happening. This girl really is a mystery. Her behavior is puzzling. She doesn't act like a victim normally, but that nightmare clearly shows that she's been a victim of something very traumatic.



I fall asleep again and wake up just as the sun is rising. Ariya is still out of it, so I change the IV bag again and watch her closely before whispering, "I'm sorry, Ariya. I shouldn't have put you in that position. I didn't know what else to do with you. You're going to hurt yourself or someone else if you carry on the way you're going. You won't believe this, but I'm truly trying to help you. You don't see it now, but I was like you. I was so angry after my time in the Marines. I held so much resentment, especially to people who didn't understand what we'd been through out there. I know what it's like to have that anger consume you and I don't want you to feel the same way. I really do have your best interests at heart; even if you don't believe that. I'm sure people haven't treated you very kindly and I'm also probably guilty of that. I went about everything the wrong way and I apologize for that..."









Ariya's P.O.V.



I feel like my limbs are filled with lead. My head is completely fuzzy and it's pounding like I've got the worst hangover ever. I've never really been much of a drinker, but there were some instances in my teenage years that I partied a bit too much. I've never really suffered with awful hangovers, but this feels a million times worse than all of those put together. I can hardly think straight and I swear I'm imagining things when I hear Justin's voice. I swear I escaped. I remember tying those guys up in the barn. I remember calling D. I don't remember much after that. He must have found me. I am a total failure after all. I shouldn't be surprised that I failed yet again. I am everything he told me I was. Weak, pathetic, useless, scum of the earth.



Justin is apologizing for the way he treated me. Too right he should apologize! He was completely out of line. This makes me angry all over again and the fight reflex is strong in me. I open my eyes a tiny crack. I don't want to alert Justin that I'm awake, but I want to see where he is and what he is doing. I choose my moment carefully before throwing my hand up and punching him in the face.



He yelps in shock and I use that window to make my move. I pounce on him and manage to scramble onto his back before placing him in a choke hold. I can feel the weakness starting in my body. It's not doing as it's told. I'm mentally screaming at myself to keep the pressure around Justin's neck. I promised I would choke the life out of him and my mind is willing but my body is weak. There's a throbbing pain in my left arm and I glance down at it, seeing a stream of blood flowing down my forearm. I'm not squeamish and the sight of blood barely registers in my brain. I'm more concerned with the fact that my strength is failing and my body is being disobedient. I haven't felt like this in a very long time and I wonder what Justin has done to me. I haven't felt like this since before I learned how to defend myself. That awful time when everything went horribly wrong.



I don't want to think about that, but whatever he has done to me has opened the box of memories. I don't want to remember. I need to be strong.

I hear myself choke out, "What did you give me?!"



It doesn't really sound like my voice, but I feel the words leave my mouth so it must be me. Justin is standing completely still. He isn't trying to get me off his back, although he does have his hands cupped over the inside of my elbow joint. I don't know why he isn't fighting back or at least trying to break free, but I feel my arms loosening and then they slip from around his neck. My body slides off his back involuntarily and I'm so angry with myself for losing. I'm furious at the possibility that he's done something to me. I want to kill him for everything he's done, but my body is betraying me. Yet again I'm a failure. He was right, wasn't he? Everything he said is true. I'm everything he told me I was going to be.



I manage to drag myself to the bed and I curl up in a ball under the covers. I don't even have my face showing. I'm so ashamed and angry right now. I want to hurt him; I want to fight back and escape but I can't make my body cooperate with my mind. That is driving me even more crazy.



I hear the bedroom door open, but I don't look to see what is going on. I can't be bothered. I can't even make myself check my surroundings and that thought scares me. I could be in terrible danger and I wouldn't even know it. What good would knowing do for me when I can't even muster the energy to defend myself.



Mike's panicked voice asks, "What's going on? Are you ok, J?"



"We're fine."



"Dude, you don't look fine. You're bleeding."



"It's nothing. I'm fine, honest."



"Do you need me to do anything?"



"Maybe get Ariya some water and a little breakfast?"



"Sure thing."



I hear the door close again and everything falls silent. I can hear Justin rustling around somewhere, so I know he's still in the room. I don't find that thought comforting but there's nothing I can do about it right now. I want to leave. I want to go home. I want the familiarity of New York. I want to see D again and have him rag on me for getting caught for fighting before his big fight. I want him to give me a new fight roster and everything go back to normal. I don't want to remember the awful things that happened or the words that people have said to and about me.



Justin quietly calls my name, but I don't move. I can't make myself move.



He sounds worried when he speaks again, "Ariya? Can you at least acknowledge that you can hear me? What's going on?"



I don't even bother to answer.



"Do you need me to get thedoctor?"



No doctors. I don't want any doctors.



He tells me he's going to call the doctor, so I manage to say, "No doctors."



"You're acting weird, Ariya. I'm worried. What's going on?"



"Just leave me alone. I want to be left alone."



"I can't really do that right now. I'm concerned about you. You've been unconscious for at least a day. You were really malnourished and dehydrated when I found you. I don't want to leave you when you're like this."



I want to give a sarcastic response. I want to tell him it's all his fault, but the horrible words keep swirling around in my brain, stopping me from replying.



'Failure. Weakling. Pathetic. Scum. Doormat. Trash. Orphan. Murderer.'



The list goes on. It's all Justin's fault. I blocked these memories out years ago, but he has made everything come to the front of my mind. I curl myself into a tighter ball and pull the covers even tighter around me.



"Ariya? What's going on?"



I mumble, "Just let me sleep."



I hear the door open again and I assume it's Mike. I guess correctly because I hear his voice say, "There's some toast and eggs. You need anything else?"



"No. Thanks, Mike. I'll be down in a little while."



Once the door closes, Justin's voice sounds again. He's talking softly, like he's pretending to care. No one cares about me, so I don't believe his fakeness.



"Can you just eat something, please? You need to eat and have something to drink."



I am actually thirsty; my throat feels like someone has put glass down it. Maybe I was drinking or he gave me some drugs to keep me subdued. Maybe I didn't really escape. Maybe he gave me a whole load of drugs to make me hallucinate and I imagined I escaped.



I try to be confident and forceful when I ask, "What did you give me?"



I don't know if achieve the confidence I was going for, but he answers anyway, "Just some glucose and saline. We needed to hydrate you and boost your sugar levels. There were some vitamins and minerals in there too, but no drugs. I swear there was nothing else in there. I would never give you drugs. I might have some harsh methods, but they don't involve any of those methods."



I actually believe him. I probably shouldn't, but he sounds like he's telling the truth.



"You must be thirsty, Ariya. Can you at least have some water?"



I appear out of my blanket cocoon and look for the glass of water. I finish nearly the whole glass in one go and my stomach grumbles at the sight of the food. Justin places it on the bed and I don't even think about starving myself out of principle. I'm far too hungry for that. I am aware of Justin watching me but I tune that out while I eat. I need to get my strength up. I hate feeling so vulnerable. Maybe eating will give me enough strength to protect myself again. I was stupid refusing to eat in the barn. That's the reason I didn't actually make my escape work. If I'd have eaten and drunk enough then I'd have got far far away from here. I won't make that mistake again.



After I finish every last scrap, I glance up at Justin to find him smiling.



He explains his happiness, "You don't know how pleased I am to see you eating. That starving yourself stuff is not good for you or me. You really need to eat properly."



I can't stop my mouth from opening and spilling out the next words, "I don't need food all the time."



"Don't you mean you don't know when your next meal is going to be? I'm not judging you, Ariya. I know enough about you to know that you'll do what you have to do to survive. If you feel like the only way for you to make it is to be on the streets, then that's what you'll do. I've been in similar situations myself. I don't have to like it, but I understand your need to survive."



I spit out, "You understand nothing. Don't act like you know me, because you don't. You have no idea."



"I may not know the specifics, but I understand the need to survive. That is instilled into Marines during training. I don't want to be your enemy here. I only want to help. That's what I've wanted to do from the start. I obviously didn't go about it the right way, but I'm trying to make up for that now."



Is this guy for real? Am I having a nightmare right now? I pinch myself to see if I'm actually in reality. Yep, I felt the pinch, so I must really be awake. He doesn't want to be my enemy? Seriously? I think it's a bit late for that. I don't give second chances.



Instead of voicing all of this, I simply say, "I'm going back to sleep."



I hope that will make him leave. Thankfully, something is working in my favor because he says, "I'll let you rest. I'll be back to check on you in a few hours."



I wait to hear the lock click, but it doesn't. He must think I'm not a threat right now. To be honest, he's right. I need to get back to normal before I can make any plays. I'm going to lull him into a false sense of security before making my move. He won't know when it's coming or what's going to hit him. Until then, I need to stay on my best behavior. That's the only way this plan will work.