Broken: An Abuse Survivor's Tale💜Part 4

Ch 4: There Were... Separation Pains

To this day, I still haven't gotten a proper answer why Hector helped me. The position paid him very well and ensured his job security as long as he stroked his ego. A position many would covet. Evidently, it wasn't enough for him, as he sacrificed his position to save me.

Lord, I wish he would tell me why. When I would ask him, he would say, "I got tired of it all" or my favorite, "He deserved to lose". Such a strange man. No wonder we hit it off well. That, and he was extremely handsome. Like a panty-melting, pay him for his efforts type of sexy.

After leaving the hospital, Hector brought me to his apartment on the outskirts of Las Vegas. It was simple, but very well kept with modern appliances, cream-colored walls, and pristine dark brown leather furniture. It seemed to be a 2-bedroom, 1-bathroom, which seemed odd for a single man. Why would he need that extra room?

I asked him why he needed it, but he shrugged in response. He wasn't a fan of small talk then, and still isn't.

We sat down and made a plan. Hector could no longer stay here, because he was paid by Michael's father, who probably knew about the situation by now, and likely terminated him. This was news to me, as Michael told me that he paid all the bodyguards. He mentioned having a fair amount of savings and a cousin out in California who needed help with a security detail. The location made my ears perk up. I asked where.

"Santa Cruz, why?" he responded with curiosity.

I grabbed his wide, sturdy shoulders and begged, "Please take me with you!"

He smiled. "That's the plan, Lyda."

We packed the few things he needed for the road. "We'll grab some things for you on the way. That outfit can't be comfortable."

The hospital gave me an oversized shirt, too-tight yoga pants, no bra or panties, and some flip-flops from the "deceased" donation box. Yeah, it wasn't comfortable to be in dead people's clothes.

He threw everything into the back of his king-cab pickup truck, helped me get inside, turned it on, and drove off. Leaving everything else behind.

Daniella had seriously downplayed the place that she and the girls got. It was an abandoned group home with 9 rooms, 4 bathrooms, and an industrial-size kitchen. According to her texts, they found it on sale for cheap and pooled all their resources into renovation. The first month was rough, but after they moved a contractor/construction guy in, the process went smoothly. He did labor in exchange for room and board. He put all the money he earned from outside jobs towards personal expenses, which the others divided evenly.

She and the girls were at the front when Hector dropped me off. I insisted on staying with her because we had both been through a lot and thought it would be an excellent opportunity to heal. Hector kissed me on the cheek, handed me my bags of new clothes, and the thin, single envelope of leftover severance money. After that, he said, "Good luck. I put my number in your phone if you need me."

Then he drove off, leaving me swooning. Not even a second later, Daniella and the girls bombarded me with questions about Hector. I couldn't answer anything, so I didn't. Daniella gave me an enormous hug, like she hadn't seen me in years. Then she announced, "Girl, you need a drink. I've got some pina colada mix!"

So with my new clothes, envelope of money, and new support system, I answered. "Hell yeah!" And followed her into the kitchen.

This began the best years of my life.

The first year after leaving Michael was the hardest. In April, one month after my hospitalization, he constantly called, texted, or left nasty voicemails. He kept me in his plan. Like a creepy stalker. So I factory-reset the phone, then stomped it into the ground.

I didn't want him to track me or find out where I went. Daniella helped me get a new phone from her provider and put me on the family plan with her and the girls. I told her it was too much as she's putting me up indefinitely.

She said, "Girl, don't worry about that. You left a man who took all of your independence and made you fully reliant on him financially. This is not the same! I want to help you start over!"

After that, in June, I got a summer job working at a bar that overlooked the beach. The only issue I had with it was the wardrobe. I had to wear an open Hawaiian shirt with a bikini underneath. It would cover my scar left by Michael, but barely. This made me scared.

Although it faded over the years, I didn't want people to see it. To witness the pain and agony I endured. Because I couldn't handle it myself.

During the interview, I asked the manager if he minded if I wore a bandage in the area as I had an "embarrassing tattoo". He laughed and agreed to it. My secret was safe, for a while.

The moment my shame came to light was in August. Daniella walked in on me in the shower. She screamed. This alerted the girls, whom I learned were‌ Monica, Sara, and Elena. Suddenly, crying, doting women gathered around me.

Daniella spoke for them all. "He did this to you!?" I silently nodded, wet, upset, and vulnerable.

She wrapped me in a towel and hugged me. "Oh, girl... I had no clue." Monica, Sara, and Elena joined in. Creating a coven of love and support while I sobbed like a child.

Finally, unleashing all my pent-up emotions. Truly healing for the first time.

Then, a day before New Year's, I received a letter. No stamp, return address, nothing. Full of caution, I opened it. It was empty aside from a picture. It was from several months ago, when Hector dropped me off at Daniella's. When he kissed me on the cheek.

Jesus Christ, Michael knew where I was!

I called Hector that day. He rushed to my side, anger visible on his face. "Has he shown up yet?"

I shook my head as I trembled in fear. "N-no..."

Hector pulled me into his chest and stroked my hair gently. "Shh, it's okay. I'm here, I won't let anything happen to you." His voice was so sincere that I believed him.

Daniella set him up in the room she arranged for me. So that he could be close to me. I think she had ulterior motives. I asked Hector if this would affect his job, and he said no. His cousin knows the situation and agreed to compensate some of his wages and put his regular clients on hold.

I accepted this as true. After all, Hector was the most honest man I've ever known.

Months go by in a flash, and I'm still in isolation. I'm not allowed to leave my apartment for anything. Not even to look for another temp job. This irritated me as I was trying to contribute to the household Daniella ran, but my rants fell on deaf ears.

As Hector reminded me repeatedly, "Your safety is more important."

I proposed something."What if I got a restraining order? Wouldn't that legally keep him away from me?"

Hector shook his head. "It's a piece of paper. Legally, we can get him arrested if we can prove he abused you."

"I've got proof!" I shouted eagerly. Full of terror, I summoned what bit of courage I had to show Hector the truth.

I pulled my sleep shirt off. Showing off my underwear and the permanent reminder of Michael. Faded sunken skin that was always rough. Something that bothered me as I took excellent care of my skin. Lotions, bath bombs, proper hydration, the full nine yards!

Hector's eyes widened as his cheeks turned pink. He swallowed roughly. He didn't stare at me like a victim or a whore, he looked at me like a woman he wanted more than oxygen. Slowly, he approached me. Assessing if it was appropriate for him to be in my space.

Yes, It's fine! He's been living with me for months! My horny shoulder demon cried out.

"May I?" Hector asked, gesturing to the bite mark. I nodded.

He gently traced his fingers over the mark. My skin burned, but not in a bad way. In a ‘I need him right now’ kind of way.

"He never deserved you. A beautiful, sexy, strong woman." He whispered, his fingers brushing over my bare shoulder.

I gasped. No one has touched me like this in years.

Hector brought his lips to my ear and murmured, "I want to show you what a real man is like." My body shook with desire. Dear God, I needed him inside of me.

He slid a thumb under my bra and asked, "Do you want me?"

"Yes," I begged, grabbing his groin. He's hard as a rock."Please,"

He slid off my underwear and carried me to bed.

What happened next was the best sex I've ever had. Hector touched all my hotspots without me telling him. He ate me out like a champion, worshipped my curves with his tongue, then applied a condom and slowly fucked me.

I teared up when he did. He really did care about my safety. It was like he was memorizing what I felt like inside. I loved it. In all the years Michael and I had sex, I didn't feel complete. Like, it was hot, and I would come, but more out of an obligation. With Hector, I fell apart in seconds.

Becoming a melted mass of pleasure as he fucked me into orgasm after orgasm. When he couldn't take it anymore, he roared and stilled, spilling his seed inside the condom.

As we lay on the bed in a haze, I started giggling. Hector, out of breath, asked, "What's funny?"

"I've never come so fast in my life. I'm... a little delirious. Sorry." I explained, panting slightly.

This ended my first year without Michael and began my first year with Hector. A man who would become the second love of my life.

If anyone you know is being abused, suspected of being abused, or are a victim yourself, there is help available. Local shelters and organizations are a good way to start. However, if more in-depth help is needed, call the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-7233.

And remember, love shouldn't hurt.

Disclaimer:

This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places, and incidents are fictitious and the product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, organizations, or events are entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. Thank you for reading this eBook. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written permission of the author.

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