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Making the Cut (Son's of Templar MC)(2)

By:Anne Malcom


"Well I want to brush my teeth anyway, I feel like I ate a urinal cake." I informed him.

"Okay Ace, lets get you to the bathroom before I pass out from your urine breath."

Ian scooped me up directing us to what I guessed was the bathroom. I  winced, and bit my lip trying to hide my reaction. Ian's expression  hardened immediately, into a look I'd never seen before on his handsome  face, one that didn't belong there.                       
       
           



       

"I'm going to kill that motherfucker." He muttered under his breath, voice shaking.

"Now what would that do to your impeccable military record?" I joked,  trying to keep our exchange light, I wasn't ready for reality to hit  just yet.

He opened the door and gingerly set me down on the bathroom floor, his  face was hard, tortured even. He looked my in the eyes, and stroked my  face, as if to make sure I was real. "Don't joke about this Gwen,  seriously, if I had lost you … " he shivered. "Mum and Dad are going to be  heartbroken, I'm only glad they didn't have to sit waiting for you to  wake up. I wouldn't wish that shit on anyone."

"NO! We are not telling Mum and Dad!" I tried to yell, but my husky voice was barely below a whisper.

I relaxed when I remembered they were away on some cruise and unreachable for three weeks.

Ian frowned. "We'll talk about this later, now do your business, I'll be  outside the door ok?" He kissed me on the head softly and walked out.

I spotted a brand new toothbrush, amongst Barney's entire cosmetic and  skincare range. I guess a little fairy called Amy had been in here. I  flinched, mid brush as I caught my reflection, both my eyes were  swollen, black bruises lingered underneath them. A bandage covered my  head and a scabbed over cut on my lip was tender against the brush. I  touched my bandaged cheek gently, it looked like there was stitches  underneath the bandage. A long, scabbed over gash decorated my neck like  some kind of gruesome necklace. I didn't look down any further, I  gripped the edge of the sink with my one good hand, close to collapsing;  an angry sob ripped out of my chest. Memories flooded through me, the  pain, the faces of those monsters, and the fear, the paralyzing fear of  thinking I was going to be raped and murdered. And by the man I thought I  loved.

"Gwen, are you ok? I'm coming in!" I heard a voice yell through the door.

Ian burst in, looking worried. His eyes softened seeing me slumped against the sink. He gently pulled me into his arms.

"I was so stupid Ian, I was so stupid." I repeated sobbing into his chest.

"This was not your fault Ace, this was some sick bastards who are fucked  in the head, none of this is your fault." He framed my head with his  hands, eyes glistening with moisture.

I had never seen my brother cry. Him and my Dad are the strong ones, Mum  and I cried at anything. We sob at sad news stories and those  television ads about animal cruelty. Dad and Ian had spent their whole  lives surrounded by our ‘delicate female sensibilities'. Although that  phrase was only uttered once, and thanks to the reaction it got, was  never said again. That's why I wasn't letting them find out about this,  it would destroy Mum, and if Ian reacted like this, I couldn't handle my  parents going through it too. My bad decisions that put me here, I  somehow had to find the strength to get through this without them.

"Ian, I'm okay." I tried to reassure him.

"No sweetie, you aren't, but you will be." My brother stated, scooping me up and walking us to my bed.

"Ian you can't tell Mum and Dad I'm serious, please." I begged.

"Of course I have to tell them Ace." He told me sternly. "It would kill them if you went through this without them."

"No Ian it will kill them to see me like this, look at me." I gestured at my face and Ian flinched, his face hard.

"I am looking at you Gwen, have been for the past week and a half. The  image of you in this hospital bed, it's burned into my brain. I won't  forget it, not until the day I die."

Tears welled up in my eyes, I chided myself, I couldn't be that emotional girl anymore, I had to be strong.

"Don't you get it?" I whispered brokenly. "I can never take that away  from you, I wish so badly I could. I can at least save Mum and Dad from  having this." I gestured to myself again, albeit awkwardly with my bulky  cast, "Imprinted into their memories as well."

Ian's face softened and he reached down and touched my cheek. "Ace, how  is it that you manage to worry so much about everyone else while you're  the one that's been through hell?" He asked.

"Just lucky I guess." I joked weakly.

"Gwen, this is not your fault. I can't fucking believe you are finding  some twisted fucking way to blame yourself!!" His voice vibrated with  anger.

We were interrupted by the arrival of doctors and nurses, who do all my  checkups, ask me lots of questions about where I live, what year it is,  and who the president is. Luckily I got it all right, but I was more  likely to remember who the president of Dior was.                       
       
           



       



A no nonsense doctor named Bruce informed me that I had a broken wrist  (no shit Sherlock), a fractured skull, (the reason for my week and half  long coma) four broken ribs, stitches on a cut on my cheek, and  ‘superficial' bruising covering most of my body. As well as suffering  from internal bleeding which I almost died from. I had gingerly looked  at my tender stomach, a bandage covering what would turn into a surgical  scar. Ian was shaking with anger while the doctor told me this. Seeing  my staunch brother so close to falling apart hurt more than the bruises  on the outside. After the doctor left Ian sat on a chair with his head  in his hands, silent for a long time before he looked at me, his face a  mask.

"Gwen, the doctor said you weren't, but I have to hear it from you. Did he … " He stopped, "Did he … " Ian choked on the words.

"Rape me?" I finished for him.

Ian flinched, then nodded sharply.

"No he didn't, he came pretty close but the cops got there just in  time." I told him carefully eyes on my brother's clenched fists.

"Ian … " I started, trying to think of a way to calm him down.

He pushed out of the chair so hard it cluttered to the ground noisily,  he turned the wall throwing his fist at it, stopping before his hand  made contact. I'd never seen my brother so angry, after being in the  army for almost 12 years he had iron clad control over his temper, no  matter how much anyone tried to rattle him, and right now it seemed like  he was going to turn green and burst out of his clothes.



My brother and I were really close, always have been. Being five years  older than me, Ian was my protector and best friend since the moment I  was born. He walked me to school on my very first day, taught me how to  ride my bike and the day he left for the army when I was 13 was one of  the saddest days of my life. We grew up in New Zealand, in a small town  in nestled away from the realities of the real world, somewhere we felt  safe and happy. Sure it was sheltered and the closest thing we had to  couture was camouflage, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. We an  amazing childhood, loving parents, never wanted for anything and grew up  in a beautiful country where we rode our bikes everywhere. Even when  Ian grew into a teenager, with multiple girlfriends and unnatural talent  for all sport, he never forgot me, never acted to ‘cool for me'. For a  ten-year-old girl who looks up to her brother, that's pretty damn  special. A couple of years after Ian left, I started to get a bit wild.  Mum and Dad didn't know what to do with me, I drank a lot, got bad marks  at school. Threw some pretty wild (legendary) parties and smoked a bit  of weed. Nothing too out of the ordinary for kids my age but not what my  parents expected of me. One night after a party, I stumbled drunk into  my house with my boyfriend when my parents were away. I knew I shouldn't  be doing it, planning on loosing my virginity to a guy I didn't love,  but thought I had to do it sometime, I felt like the odd woman out  amongst my sexually active friends. The guy started kissing me and  pulling off my clothes as soon as we got in the front door, I kissed him  back for a while until he grabbed at my dress trying to pull it up.

"No." I slurred, "I don't think we should do this anymore."

"Come on babe, don't be a tease, you know you want to." Trent whispered, grabbing at my dress and pushing me against a wall.

I started pushing at him. "No Trent." I protested but he wouldn't  listen, my thoughts were slow from the alcohol. Suddenly the lights  flickered on and I heard Ian's bellow.