Beyond the Scars

Beyond the Scars

by

Louise Lyons

COPYRIGHT

Beyond the Scars © 2022 Louise Lyons

Second Edition

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or business establishments, events or locales is coincidental.

WARNING

This book contains material that is intended for a mature, adult audience. It contains graphic language, explicit sexual content, and adult situations

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

CHAPTER ONE

Two years, ten months, and nineteen days. That was how long I had been here. But today was different. Today I was leaving. My life was no longer worth living and if I didn’t change it, I thought I might die, whether by his hand or my own.

I met Colin Woods in June 2004 on Myspace. I was nineteen then and reasonably happy in my own skin. But the fishing port of Grimsby wasn’t the best place in the world to try meeting other men. It didn’t have much to offer to the GLBT community and most people either went out of town or used online dating and chatrooms. I opened an account on Myspace and within a few weeks I connected with Colin. He lived close to Grimsby too, in one of the villages not far from the outskirts. We met just days after our online introduction. He seemed so different then.

I jumped and glanced over my shoulder as I heard a sound outside. Our neighbour, slamming his car door. I let out a shaky sigh of relief and continued stuffing my clothes into a bag. My hands trembled and I tried talking to myself in my head. You’ve got time. He won’t be back for hours. Calm down. Don’t forget anything important.

I fastened the bag and grabbed another smaller one which I took into the bathroom to collect my meagre collection of toiletries. Then back to the bedroom for my CDs. Half an hour at the most and I would be out of here. Free. Safe.

A few more minutes passed. I thought I had everything, but I took another look around to make sure. If I left my wallet or car keys, I was fucked. I patted my pockets and found the keys in my right front jeans pocket and my wallet in the back pocket on the same side.

I picked up the smaller bag again and shoved a few odd socks into it, which were on the floor next to the bed. Every moment that passed was a moment too long and I tried to hurry. The silence in the flat was so loud, my head pounded with it. Then in an instant it was shattered by the front door flying open and crashing against the wall. The bag I was holding fell from my hands and items scattered across the floor. I took a step back as Colin appeared in the doorway, eyebrows raised.

I, um, I thought you were g-going fishing, I stammered.

I was, but you have to fucking ruin everything as usual, he growled. "I rang you at work. You know, your place of work where you went two hours ago. Only you didn’t go there, did you? They said you booked time off!" He bellowed out the last sentence and I flinched. "So tell me, Tommy. Why would you take time off work and not tell me? Why are you here, packing stuff into a bag, ruining my fucking day, when I should be out fishing with my mate?"

I’m leaving, I said in a small voice. Maybe he would let me go. Just maybe he would be mad enough to think it wasn’t worth it anymore. I ruined his day, after all. I imagined the words coming out of his mouth and I prayed silently he would say them. Fuck off, then, Tommy. I’ve had enough. Get out of my sight and take all your shit with you.

The hell you are. Get that stuff unpacked right now. He clenched his fists at his sides and his jaw twitched. I was impressed he hadn’t hit me yet. Actually, I changed my mind. Leave that. First you can tell me exactly what you thought you were doing. Haven’t I said a hundred times you’ll never leave me? I won’t fucking let you leave. You have nothing without me, anyway. No one else would want you. Useless fucking waste of space that you are.

I-I’m sorry. I thought I’d— I racked my brains desperately for the right words—words which might not result in me being forced to take more time off until the bruises faded. Usually he avoided my face, but if he was really mad, he seemed to want to pummel the features he repeatedly told me were a turn off to everyone except him.

You thought what? I’d let you go, just like that? You thought you’d sneak off like the fucking little coward you are while I’m not here? He stepped closer and I gulped, my mouth dry with fear. I knew it would be a lot worse than it had been before. I had never really done anything before to deserve it. Tiny little mistakes—an item put away in the wrong place; his dinner later than he demanded; something not done quickly enough, or the way he wanted. Here I was packing, intending to leave and daring to make my own decision. He would probably beat the shit out of me.

I took a step back and bumped against the wall. Colin lifted his hand and fastened it around my throat before I could blink.

You’ll never leave me, Tommy, do you hear me? I’ll make sure of it.

I tried to swallow the saliva that pooled in my mouth in panic, but his grip was too tight. I couldn’t move and my airway was restricted. I had been in this position once before and it terrified me. I thought he was going to kill me. I attempted to breathe in through my nose and I closed my eyes as I waited to either pass out from lack of air, or for his first punch to strike me. He would probably go for my stomach to cause maximum discomfort while I struggled to draw in a breath. But the punch never came. The doorbell rang.

Who the fuck is that? Colin hissed. He let go of me and I sucked in a breath and instantly choked. I clamped a hand over my mouth and struggled to stay quiet as I gasped and spluttered. Colin went to the window and peeked through the gap in the curtains. It’s a fucking copper. Is this your doing?

No, I whispered and shook my head.

Get rid of him. He grabbed me roughly and propelled me out of the room to the front door of the ground floor flat. Then he retreated into the kitchen.

I put my hand on the door handle and gripped it tight. My heart pounded so loud that my chest vibrated and my blood rushed in my ears. I might still have a chance. If I could do this right, just maybe—

I pulled open the door. The policeman towered over me. I was five foot eight and he must have been well over six foot. His feet were on the doormat, at least four inches lower than the hall floor I stood on, and still he looked down on me.

Thomas Chadwick? he asked. Pale blue eyes looked into mine.

Yes?

We had a call asking to check on you. Is everything all right?

My whole body trembled and my knees felt as if they might give way at any moment. I gripped the door handle tighter in an effort to support myself. I shook my head fractionally and licked my lips. Tears welled in my eyes and I let them spill over.

Will you help me? I whispered.

That’s what I’m here for. The copper smiled and relief flowed through me. I blinked rapidly and took a step aside to let the man into the flat. He dwarfed the tiny hallway and I finally let go of the door and walked ahead of him a few steps, my gaze on the floor. Colin appeared in the kitchen doorway and I halted.

Mr. Woods? the policeman enquired from behind me.

Yeah.

I understand there’s been some trouble.

Not that I’m aware of, Colin said cockily.

It seems Thomas, here, wishes to leave this premises. Could you confirm that, Thomas?

Yes, I said quietly. I want to leave.

And you have somewhere to go?

Yes. I glanced up just enough to see Colin’s hands curl into fists again, but I didn’t look at his face.

Get your things together while Mr. Woods and I have a chat.

Colin backed into the kitchen again and the policeman followed. He closed the door behind them and I flew into action. Relief made me shake more than I had when I feared he might catch me. I checked the bathroom and bedroom again, then the living room. I had a few books and DVDs left there, but not much. Most of it was in the huge bag on the bedroom floor. I grabbed my boots and leather jacket and put them on, then moved everything into the hall. I checked again to make sure I had the keys to my car, removed the key to the flat from the bunch and placed it on the small table by the door.

Voices drifted to me from the kitchen, but I couldn’t make out the words. They were quiet and calm and I marvelled at Colin not yelling. He probably didn’t dare. That policeman was bigger than him too. I waited another minute and the door opened. The copper stepped out, followed by Colin.

I want my ring back, Colin said in a sulky tone.

I looked down at my right hand. On the third finger, I wore a heavy silver ring with a square onyx stone set in it. Colin told me it meant we were engaged when he was being nice. He bought it with the money he got from selling my guitar. I begged him not to take the instrument, but nothing I said ever made any difference to what he did. The guitar disappeared—it had been the last thing my dad bought me before he found out I was gay and disowned me.

I slipped the ring off my finger and took one last look at it. I hated the thing. It wasn’t my style at all. I had been so pathetically happy when he gave it to me. He told me how much he loved me and that he wanted us to be together forever. In a fit of bravado fuelled by bitterness, I threw it at him. It bounced off his chest, fell to the floor and rolled away somewhere. I picked up my things and stepped outside into the crisp spring morning. The policeman followed me and closed the door.

Do you have transport?

Yes, that’s my car. I pointed to my much-loved Mini, which I had somehow managed to hang onto. Colin hadn’t taken everything from me. I hadn’t been able to drive it for six months because he wouldn’t let me pay for road tax, but it was still mine. I, um, the road tax is out of date, I told him, then continued in a rush. I have a new disc in my wallet. And the front number plate’s broken. I’m going straight to a garage to get a new one, I promise. Is that okay?

It’s fine, Thomas. I’ll make a note of your registration number, just in case.

Thanks. Thank you so much. How did you know to come here? I asked.

We had a call from a young lady. Miss Stevenson.

I smiled. Sarah Stevenson was my best friend—my only friend. She stuck by me even when I shunned her at Colin’s request. He hated me having any interests besides him and he wouldn’t allow me to have anyone in my life I might care about. I kept in touch with Sarah by emailing her from work when I got the chance, but I never told her what was going on. I made one excuse after another as to why I couldn’t see her. When I eventually told her I was leaving and that things were shit, without going into any detail, she invited me to move in with her and her mother until I got things sorted out. She must have guessed I was in trouble. Their home had been my refuge when my dad kicked me out too.

Thank you, I said again. You saved my life. I meant it literally, but the copper just nodded and smiled. Whether he believed me or not I didn’t know, but I bet he had seen similar things plenty of times. I wondered if there were many instances of men being treated like this, or if I was the only one. You heard about women being beaten and abused all the time, but men—maybe I really was the pathetic coward Colin told me I was. I shivered and hung my head. I just wanted to get away.

It might be a good idea for you to get out of town for a few days if you can, he said.

I was planning to. I intended to take off to one of my favourite places in the country. The Lake District was almost two hundred miles away and I could spend a few days there, knowing I wouldn’t have to keep looking over my shoulder. I’m going to Cumbria, I added.

That’s good. If you have any trouble when you come back, or in the future, remember you can call us any time. The policeman watched while I shoved my things into the backseat of the car and fumbled the new tax disc from my wallet. I bought it a week earlier when I got paid and I had prayed ever since that Colin wouldn’t check my bank account and ask what I used the money for. I had drawn cash and bought the tax from the post office, rather than risk buying it online and leaving a paper trail.

Something occurred to me as I closed the car’s passenger side door and went around to the driver’s side to get in. The policeman hadn’t seemed in the least surprised or upset that he was called to a situation with two men. I supposed they had rules to follow. They couldn’t discriminate against a member of the public—it would probably get in the papers and they would be in trouble for it.

Is something wrong? the man asked.

No. Thanks again. I’m really glad you came. I slid into the car, pushed the key into the ignition, and remembered to fasten my seatbelt. He was still watching and I didn’t want to fuck up with something silly. I pulled the door closed and adjusted my mirrors. I started the engine, reversed off the drive, and turned to face the main road. Freedom was just around the corner.

My heart pounded as I drove, and I repeatedly had to wipe my hands on my jeans to prevent the sweaty palms slipping on the steering wheel. I drove the four or five miles into town and found a garage. I hovered anxiously while one of the men made up a new number plate for me and fixed it to the car. I kept telling myself, over and over: I’m five miles away. He doesn’t have a car. He doesn’t know where I am. He can’t possibly catch up with me.

The mantra didn’t help, even though every word of it was true. There really was no way Colin could find me right now, but in my head, it was only a matter of time before he walked into the garage and stopped me. The minutes stretched out and by the time the number plate was done, more than twenty had passed. Twenty long minutes. I paid the man, dived into the car and drove off, looking in every direction. I couldn’t see him anywhere and I blew out a long breath as I set off across town towards the motorway which would take me west and put enough distance between Colin and me that I could stop worrying for a few days.

Another fifteen minutes passed and I left the town behind. I was about to join the motorway when I realised I hadn’t filled the car with fuel. I pulled into a nearby service station and filled the car’s tank. When I went into the shop to pay, I decided to grab some snacks and a drink for the journey. I stared at the array of sandwiches, crisps and treats, unable to remember what I liked. My brain didn’t seem capable of this small task. Anxiety and exhilaration filled me, and my lack of confidence in myself was temporarily pushed to the back of my mind. I was free—almost—and I wondered if this was how a person let out of prison might feel.

I picked up a pack of sandwiches, a chocolate bar, and a soft drink. I wasn’t aware of the choices I made. I paid for them along with my fuel and went back to the car. My four-wheeled pride and joy was the only thing I had left from before