Page 3 of Finding Us
I recognise the voice immediately and know I’m safe—only then do I open my eyes.
Chapter2
Jacinta
When my eyelids flutter open, I find Connor standing over me with concern etched all over his handsome face. “You okay, Jaz?” he asks.
Sitting up, I rub my eyes with my shaky hands. “Yeah,” I lie.
“Fuck, I hate seeing you like this,” he says, taking a seat on the side of the mattress and reaching out to run his fingers over my long blonde hair. “Have you been having many nightmares since I’ve been gone?”
“A few,” I reply, dipping my face. They’ve actually become more vivid over the past year … flashbacks of all the abuse my mother faced at the hands of that monster. Stuff I’d managed to block from my memory until recently.
Unfortunately, my father has always played a starring role in my nightmares, but when we moved to Melbourne after his arrest, they usually centred around him finding us. As traumatising as they were, my most recent ones are far worse, because they’re actual re-enactments of the horrors Mum and I faced while living with that man.
“This one seemed a lot worse than the others, Jaz.”
I lift one shoulder instead of answering. My eyes flicker back to Connor, and I see the deep frown lines marring his forehead as his gaze scans over my face. It may be the middle of the night, and dark outside, but not in my room.I hate the dark.I’m a grown woman and still sleep with a night-light beside my bed.
When I don’t give Connor anything more than a shrug, he abruptly stands and reaches for one of the pillows behind me before scooping the throw rug from the foot of my bed.
Dropping them to the floor, he lies down on the rug, just like he’s done so many times over the years. It was a common occurrence until he moved away. I’ve forgotten how comforting my big brother can be at times like this. Well, technically he’s my stepbrother, but our bond is strong. We love each other like full-blooded siblings.
It’s been over a year since he’s lived with us. When Connor moved to Sydney, I was left to face my nightmares alone. He struggled to leave me behind, but he was following his dream … I wasn’t about to stand in his way.
He’s a lawyer like our dad, but not a regular one … he’s a police prosecutor and was offered a position with the Sydney Police Department after he graduated. As much as I miss him, I’m extremely proud … he’s doing what he loves, and I can’t fault him for that.
My mum and I moved in with Connor and his dad seven years ago, and I’ve loved living here. It’s the first real home I’ve had where I truly felt safe. Our first week here was when my brother discovered my nightmares, he woke to my screaming.
That night I opened my eyes to find him standing over my bed. It scared the crap out of me. When a strangled sob ripped from my throat and I tried to scramble away, Connor reached out and wrapped his arms around my waist, anchoring me in place.
“It’s me, Jaz,” he whispered in a soothing tone. “I didn’t mean to frighten you … I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking when I rushed in here. I could hear you screaming from down the hall. I thought someone had broken in and was attacking you.”
As soon as I realised it was him, I sat down on the side of my bed and buried my face in my hands—I was so embarrassed. That’s when he reached for one of my pillows and lay down on the floor. I remember asking him,“What are you doing?”
“Sleeping in here so you can feel safe,”was his answer.
Needless to say, Connor Maloney became the first man I ever loved … his dad, Jim, was the second. The damage I received at the hands of my birth father—when I was a child—has robbed me of so much. I have severe trust issues as a result. I’m twenty years old and I’ve never had a boyfriend.Like ever.I’ve kissed a few guys in my time, but that’s as far as it ever went. Growing up with a violent abuser means my distrust for the opposite sex runs deep—my stepbrother and stepfather being my only exceptions.
I’m not sure if Connor knows the full extent of what my mother and I endured in our previous life, but he knows enough, because from the very beginning, he’s been protective of me. We don’t talk about my past, and he never pries or asks questions, which I appreciate. It’s something that I’m deeply ashamed of. I know I shouldn’t be. None of it was my fault, but it’s how I feel. I worry I’ll never be free of my father mentally—will he always haunt me?Do my scars run too deep for my nightmares to ever stop?
Lying back down, I stare up at the ceiling, trying to get my racing heart under control. I’m scared to close my eyes in case I start dreaming again.
“Jaz,” Connor says, reaching up and feeling around on the mattress for my hand. As soon as I notice what he’s doing, I wrap my fingers around his.
“Yeah?”
“Come back to Sydney with me next week.” Connor is only home for the Christmas break.
I roll onto my side and glance down at him. “For a holiday?”
“No, permanently. The apartment Dad bought has three bedrooms, there’s plenty of room for you.”
“What about my job?”
“You can get another one in Sydney. I’m sure Brooke would snap you up if she knew you were moving back. You’re an amazing dancer, any studio would be lucky to have you.”
“As wonderful as that sounds, I couldn’t intrude on your life. Aren’t you glad to be finally rid of yourlittle shadow?”
