《Victim》


 chapter 1

    VICTIM


    BY CALVIN D. ELLINGTON.


    Victim- someone that is subjected to oppression, hardship, or mistreatment


    There are hunters, and there are victims. By your discipline, cunning, obedience, and alertness, you will decide if you are a hunter or a victim.- Jim Mattis.


    Chapter 1.


    ETHAN


    Growing up I''ve always been a victim. I grew up in the poorest neighborhood in New York. My father was an abusive drunk. He beat all of us my mother my sister and myself. He would go on about how a black man can''t get anywhere in life. My father was a police officer for the NYPD. He was a man who thought everyone was to blame for his shitty situation. Not once did he think it was his fault that his family lived so poorly. He would take his anger on us.


    My mother was his favorite target. There were many times when my father would beat the hell out of my mother for the smallest of things. Sometimes she would be late coming home from work, and she is accused of cheating on him. He hated it when he didn''t know where his family was. My mother stayed with him for years.


    My mother once told me that the only reason she stayed with him was because she had nowhere to go. I''ve never understood her reasons as a child. All I saw was Daddy hurting Mommy. I couldn''t understand why Daddy hated us. I asked my mother why Daddy didn''t leave if he hated us.


    " Oh baby" Mother would say hugging me deeply " Daddy doesn''t hate us. He''s just angry" she would always defend him. As I grew older I realized she was a victim. My father was a victim too, a victim of himself. My mother was his victim.


    I became a victim of his when I was 10. my sister when she was 6. I remember when my sister broke a plate. The plate broke and pieces went everywhere, my father was angry at my sister and smacked her in her face. I acted on instinct, I lunged at him. I could knock him down, due to surprise only, and land as many punches my little hands could throw.


    "Leave her alone" I yelled anger giving me confidence. But it wasn''t enough. My father pushed me off. And I''ve never seen him so angry in my life. That was the moment that I learned what fear was.


    "Boy," My father said anger dripping in every word. " Have you lost your goddamn mind. Take your shirt off" Father took his belt off and had it twisted in his hand.


    I was frozen in fear. I couldn''t move, I''ve seen what he''s done to Mother. I backed up till my back was against a wall. " I''m sorry Daddy," I said on instinct. I was rewarded with a slap to the face.


    " Boy don''t make me say it again" Father slapped me again.


    That is when mother came home from work. She saw what was going on. She ran to me and asked what happened. But my father wasn''t happy with that.


    "Bitch don''t you see I''m disciplining your little shit stain of a brat" My father grabbed her by the hair and threw up off me. " I''ll deal with you later, now Ethan Shirt. Off. Now" Father growled.


    I did as I was told and took my shirt off. All I could do was cry. My mother just watched as my father whipped my back with his belt. The pain was too much for me. I wanted to run away, but I knew if I did the pain would be much worse.


    " Little shit, this is my house." Father said in between hits. " If any of you lay a hand on me I''m going to kill you. My house do you get this through your dumb ass skull." by now he was panting he was tired of whipping his oldest child.


    My sister was crying in my mother''s arms. All she knew was her big brother was being hurt. Mother was trying to calm her down. She wouldn''t look at me, knowing she couldn''t help her baby boy.


    As for me, I was a crying wreck. All I could do was cry. I could feel the blood dripping down my back. I''ve never felt pain like that. That was the night I became a Vitim. And I have been a victim ever since.


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.Over the years the abuse became a regular part of my life. Teachers would notice but say nothing, I would tell teachers what happened, but would just brush me off. They couldn''t believe that a cop would do such a thing. When they told my parents I was making up stories my father was livid. The beatings I got from that weren''t as bad as the beating I got from that night.


    I even tried calling the police in secret. Two officers came to my home and questioned me and my sister. At first, I was hopeful that all this pain would be over but sadly that was short-lived.


    "Sorry for the misunderstanding Lawson," one of the officers said to my father. " Didn''t realize this was your address."


    "Sorry about that," Father told the other officers. "I don''t know why the boy thought it be funny but I''ll talk to him" he smiled and laughed with his fellow cops.


    "Tell Captain Lopez I''ll see him next week" he smiled as he waved them off. I had never seen him so happy and nice. I knew it was an act, I knew what would come next. My father looked at me with anger and disgust. I knew it was coming but I still wasn''t prepared for the slap the slap that came next.


    "How dare you embarrass me." Father was furious, more furious than that night. "Do you have any idea what you''ve done?" I truly didn''t. At first, I thought he was just mad that I tried to get him arrested, I never thought that he''d be more mad than that first night years ago. I saw him pacing back and forth. He grabbed me by my hair, his grip was so tight I thought he was going to rip out my hair.


    "After all these years of breaking my back to those fucking assholes down the drain." he threw me against the wall. I saw the raw fury in his eyes but wouldn''t budge, i knew it be a lot worse.


    "I was up for a promotion, I could have been a sergeant." he ranted. " And you upped and ruined it. They gonna use this as another example of why black men can''t get anywhere in this life. All because you went and ran your mouth." by this point he took his belt off and started whipping me. He was careful not to hit anywhere visible. My sister was thankfully spared his rage. After that night every time something went wrong at work, I would be blamed for for it.


    Sadly my father was as bad of a cop as he was a father. Every time his boss would yell at him for his screw-up, he''d blame me for it. He blamed me for costing him his promotion. His bosses wouldn''t promote someone accused of abuse, he told me. I was the reason we were so poor, I cost my father his dream and he remained every time he beat me.


    Soon I became numb to the abuse, it was just a part of my life. My mother was used to it and my sister was slowly getting used to it. I thought running away would be my only hope, but remembered why my mother stayed. I had nowhere to go, I was just a child with nothing. My choices were to live a life on the streets or live in a violent home. The choices were obvious to me. I took the abuse because I had no other options. This was my life and like my mother, I had to take everything my father had to give.


    Everything changed on my 13th birthday. I remember everything about that day. June 1st, 1998, the worst day of my life. My mother was making my favorite meal. Spaghetti and meatballs with fried chicken. To be honest I didn''t care what we ate I got my greatest birthday wish. The dinner was just the three of us - my mom sister and myself. It was the happiest''ve been in years. My father had to do the midnight shift at work.


    But like all good things I came to an end. This one came to a bloody end. I was in my room late at night when it happened. I heard my mothers scream, I thought it was just the usual beating my father gave my mother. That was when I heard the gunshot, without thinking I ran out of my room to check what happened. I slipped on something wet and fell. When I got up I was covered in blood, My mother''s blood. She was there in front of me, a bullet in her head. I screamed louder than I ever did before.


    "Shit fucking shit" I barely heard him over my own screams. "Dumb bitch made me do it." I thought he was talking to himself.


    When I stopped screaming my dad looked at me and for the first time, I saw regret in his eyes. "I''m sorry" he actually apologized. I couldn''t ever forgive him for this. Before I could even say anything he turned his gun on himself and pulled the trigger.


    Blood splattered on my face, and my father killed himself right in front of me. I was in shock, I couldn''t move. The next day my sister found me covered in our parents'' blood she screamed but I didn''t respond. She ran and got our neighbors who found me, a small child unmoving in a pool of blood. The police came and questioned me but I said nothing. I said nothing for almost a month. The therapist I was assigned said I was catatonic the trauma of seeing both my parents die was so traumatic that I was in a constant state of catatonia.


    Eventually, I was able to talk about what happened. I told the police about my father and how he abused us. At first, they didn''t believe me. At that point, I took my shirt off to show all the bruises that I got over the years.


    "This is what that fucking bastard did to me" I screamed tears in my eyes. "He beat me till I was bloody then moved on to my mother and sister. If any of you did your fucking jobs I still have my mother." I was beyond angry. Everything I went through and they still thought my dad was innocent.


    My sister and lived moved from foster home to foster home for years. It was worse than living with my father. I would rather be abused every day than live with those people. But I couldn''t, first, I was my father''s victim now I was a victim of the system. I always thought to myself will I ever be truly happy.

 Chapter 2 (Doyle)

    Chapter 2


    DOYLE


    17 Years Later


    It was a quiet afternoon in the 28th precinct of the NYPD. Captain Henry Doyle, a sturdy man with short blonde hair, sipped on a cup of cold coffee. On his desk, one of the worst parts of his job was giving him a hard time: paperwork. Case files were piled high, mocking him. In his 20 years on the force, he never wanted to be anywhere else.


    For the past 5 years, he has been Captain of the 28th. Ever since his predecessor retried. At first, he thought being captain was going to be more exciting. He never knew how political the position could be. He had become someone who he never wanted to become. A hard-ass boss who micromanaged his team, he had to with all of the civil rights groups threatening the police with lawsuits. Black Lives Matter was his biggest headache, he respected what they stood for he did¡ªbut hated how they did it. Every time a shooting happens they are there before he has a chance to get there.                                      Doyle was snapped out of his thoughts when someone knocked on his door. He just hoped it wasn''t more trouble. He doesn''t know if he can handle more paperwork.


    ¡°It''s open¡± Doyle tiredly said rubbing his head to quell the headache he was getting.


    ¡°Captain there is someone you need to talk to¡± A woman in a black blazer walked in. ¡°Sir I have a woman here who wants to file a report.


    Slightly annoyed Doyle sighed ¡°And you couldn''t take the report because O¡¯Malley,¡± the captain wondered. He didn''t understand why one of his best, his partner for the last 8 years, was pawning off a case to him. He knew she could handle pretty much anything.


    ¡°It''s one of those cases, the ones that you said report to you immediately¡± O¡¯Malley pointed out. ¡°And it''s going to need to be handled only the way you can, Sir.


    Doyle sighed, of course, that was the reason. He didn''t mind talking to victims, he just hated how he had to walk on eggshells just to do his job. He hoped that he could walk away without someone threatening a lawsuit.


    ¡°Send her in¡± Doyle cleared his desk as a red-haired woman nervously walked in. Detective O¡¯Malley right behind her closing the door.


    ¡°Hello mama,¡± Doyle stood greeting the woman. ¡°Why don¡¯t you take a seat? I¡¯m Captain Henry Doyle, can I get you anything to drink.¡±


    ¡°No thanks, Mr. Doyle.¡± The woman declined the offer, her voice filled with nervousness. ¡°My name is Lila Jackson. I¡¯m worried about my friend Ethan Adams,¡± she said with sadness. Doyle gave O¡¯Malley the look that came with years of working together. The detective went to comfort Lila. Doyle could always count on her to connect with the people who came in.


    ¡°You can call me Henry, Ms. Jackson¡±, Doyle told her. ¡°You told my detectives that you wanted to talk with me. Can you tell me why?¡± Doyle wanted to get this part out of the way, if he knew who he was going to instigate he rather know who it was before he got the details. The name Ethan Adams doesn¡¯t raise any alarms.


    ¡°Well,¡± Lila began slowly trying to think on her to word her next few words. ¡°It''s  husband Ryan Adams, I think Ryan has been hurting Ethan.¡± Lila looked at the two cops waiting for their reactions.


    O¡¯Malley winced hearing that name while keeping his face neutral. He knew he had to keep a level head when talking to witnesses. But he knew his day just went from annoying to downright horrible. Forget the lawsuit; he¡¯d be lucky if there was still a 28th precinct when all this was done.


    Ryan Adams, that was the last person he wanted to deal with. The Adams family was one of the richest families in the state. But what worried him more was that the family made Lawyers like a bakery makes bread. Criminal business and corporate medical, didn''t matter the field the Adams had their hands in it. Ryan in particular was a defense Lawyer, a damn good one at that.


    ¡°Okay Ms. Jackson, why don¡¯t you start from the beginning.¡± if they were about to after one of the biggest defense lawyers in the state, from the richest families he wanted to make sure he had as much information as possible.


    Lilia nodded, ¡°Ethan hasn¡¯t said anything outright, but I¡¯ve been noticing small things.¡± Lila bit her lips, thinking about what her friend had been going through.


    ¡°Lately he''s been cutting contact with most of his friends. I barely see him. Whenever I do get a chance to talk to him he says that he and Ryan are busy¡± she spat that last part out.


    ¡°Ethan¡¯s been more withdrawn, and anxious. Even the slightest noise makes him afraid. He flinches whenever someone gets too close or raises their voice. It''s like he thinks everyone is going to hurt him.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry Ms. Jackson but that doesn¡¯t mean abuse¡± O¡¯Malley softly cut in. ¡°Is there anything else you can tell us?¡±                ¡°It''s not just that!¡± Lila screamed jumping out of her seat. ¡°I''ve seen the bruises on him, It was horrible.¡± now Lila was crying her eyes out.


    Doyle felt for the girl, he could see that she truly cared for her friend. But he had a job to do, and he had to get her to continue.


    ¡°It''s okay Ms. Jackson.¡± Doyle handed Lila some tissue to clear her tears. ¡°Can you tell us what you saw? Tell us everything you can, we¡¯re going to do all we can to help Ethan¡±


    Having calmed down Lila continued her story. ¡± A couple of days ago I walked in on him at home. I have a spare key he gave me. He was changing clothes and I saw them.¡± Lila was still having trouble remembering the poor shape was in. This time she took the cup of water when O¡¯Malley offered it.


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    ¡°His chest, oh god it''s like he got into a fight with a boxer.¡± Lila cried drying her tears as best she could. ¡°His sides were the worse, it looked like someone had been punching them over and over, I just know it was that scumbag Ryan¡±


    This sounded like a clear-cut case of Domestic violence. But without a complaining victim, there wasn¡¯t much he could do. But he wasn¡¯t going to let this go, he made mistakes in his past. Those mistakes still haunt him to this day.         ¡° OK, Ms. Jackson¡± Doyle gave Lila a comforting smile. ¡°We¡¯ll look into this, is there any way you can get Ethan to come talk to us here?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯ll never work,¡± she snorted. ¡°Ethan is too stubborn, he¡¯d never agree to come. You have to go to him, Ethan spends most of his time at home. I don¡¯t think Ryan lets him leave much. I can give you his address.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯ll be great, don¡¯t worry Ms. Jackson¡± Doyle thanked Lila ¡°Just make sure you don¡¯t say anything. If this got back to Ryan it might now go over well with Ethan.


    ¡°Thank you Henry that means so much.¡± for the first since the meeting she smiled. She got up to leave, giving Detective O¡¯Malley all of the necessary information.


    After Lila left Doyle thought about everything Lila told him. One wrong move and the Adams would all be on his ass. Hell, his bosses would be on his ass, they probably tell him to drop the case. He had to act before that happened.


    ¡°What''s our first step Captain?¡± O¡¯Malley returned from getting the information from Lila


    ¡°While I''m going to go interview Ethan alone, I want you to get background checks on Ryan Have one done on Ethan just to be safe,¡± Doyle ordered. ¡°We need to keep this quiet, the fewer people that know the better.¡± He wanted to have O¡¯Malley with him, but if things went south he wanted to at least keep her safe.


    ¡°Got it,¡± O¡¯Malley left to begin her investigation.


    Doyle hoped that Lila was just an over-concerned friend. He hated to think about the fallout if it turned out Ryan was an abuser. He didn¡¯t know what was worse the lawsuits that could come out, or the media storm that¡¯ll follow.


    Doyle looked up at the high-rise apartment. The home of Ethan and Ryan Adams. Thanks to the information he got from Lila he knew that Ryan wouldn¡¯t be home for hours giving him plenty of time to talk to Ethan.  He just hoped that he could get him to talk.


    Walking into the building he rang the buzzer of the penthouse. At first, he got no response, he hoped that Ethan was still home. After a second attempt, he got a response.       ¡°Hello, how can I help you¡± a soft voice was said catching Doyle¡¯s attention. ¡°If you''re a client of Ryan he¡¯s still at his office.¡± the voice gave what seemed like a well-rehearsed response.


    ¡°Actually I''m here to speak to Ethan Adams,¡± Doyle told the voice. ¡°I''m Captain Henry Doyle with the NYPD, I would like to talk to you, do you mind if I come up there it''s kinda cold down here?¡±   It was quiet for a moment before the intercom came back on. ¡°I''m Ethan,¡± that gave some comfort at least he could talk to the man. ¡°I''ll buzz you in just make this quick I have to get dinner ready soon¡±


    As Doyle made his way to the penthouse he thought about what he was going to say, he hated domestic abuse cases. Over the years Doyle has seen plenty of domestic violence cases. They rarely have happy endings, he just hoped that this case would be different.  Investigating Ryan Adams would be like poking a sleeping bear.


    When he got to the penthouse he was greeted by a man who looked like he''s seen better days. He was a light-skinned African American man, with wild curly hair. He looked like he hadn¡¯t had a good night''s sleep in days. The man wore a gray sweater, that looked a bit too small for him, along with gray sweatpants.


    ¡°Hello Captain, I''m Ethan Adams,¡± Ethan held his hand out to shake which the captain shook. ¡°I don¡¯t know why you¡¯d want to talk to me, I barely have time to leave home let alone commit a crime¡± Ethan laughed uncomfortably.  ¡°Should I call my husband, I''d hate to be interrogated without my lawyer.¡±


    That was the last thing he needed, ¡°that won''t be necessary Mr. Adams.¡± Doyle waved off Ethan¡¯s concern.  ¡°I just need to ask you a few questions.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± Ethan said slowly ¡°Would you like a drink some, I''m afraid all we have is water at the moment¡± Ethan went to the kitchen to get some drinks.


    ¡°Water is fine with me¡± Doyle accepted the offer. Following Ethan into the kitchen he watched Ethan grab a couple of water bottles from the fridge. He put one on the counter and then reached down to grab another. That''s when Ethan¡¯s sweater roused up just enough to see a purple bruise right where Lila said it be. His heart fell, that¡¯s the kind of bruise you get from getting punched.


    After taking the water bottle from Ethan, the two made their way to the dining room. Doyle had to approach this issue carefully. Those bruises confirm that someone¡¯s been hurting Ethan He just needs him to admit it, without that he¡¯d have no case.


    ¡°Now Mr. Adams¡± Dolye began slowly. ¡°I''m here because we revived some concerns over your safety. Your friend Lila told us that she''s been worried about you¡± Doyle saw the surprise on Ethan¡¯s face. But that didn''t last long. Ethan was quickly able to recover and tried to laugh it off.             ¡°Captain, Lila is just a bit over dramatic.¡± Ethan gave a forced smile. ¡°Whatever she said Ryan did, I¡¯m sure it''s just a misunderstanding¡±


    ¡°I never said anything about Ryan, Ethan¡± Doyle pointed out. That was his first step to get Ethan to open up. ¡°Lila seems to care about you a lot, she came to see a police captain specifically. You don''t go through all that just from a misunderstanding. She also mentioned seeing that bruise I saw earlier, why don''t you tell me about it?¡±


    Ethan¡¯s shoulders tensed and Doyle could see the fear in the man¡¯s eyes. Ethan kept looking between Doyle and the front door like he was worried someone, probably Ryan was about to walk in.


    ¡°It''s nothing,¡± Ethan said trying to keep his nerves together. ¡°Ryan and I, we can get a little rough in bed you know. Sometimes it can get out of hand but it''s all consensual¡± Ethan promised, but Doyle wasn''t buying it not for a minute.


    ¡°Now Ethan¡±, Doyle began trying to keep the young man calm. ¡°I''ve been in this job a long time and I and tell when someone is afraid. I don''t care about what you and your husband do in your bedroom, but your safety is what matters most. Whatever is going on with you and Ryan just know you deserve better.¡±  Doyle hoped he go through the young man.          Sadly Ethan grew even more defensive. He clenched his fist and glared at the captain. ¡°Ryan not the like that!¡± his voice laced with poorly contained anger. Doyle never expected him to get this angry. ¡°You¡¯re making him out to be some monster but he''s not. Ryan is the love of my life, and I won''t let you destroy his reputation.¡± By this point, Ethan had left his seat and opened the front door. ¡°I think it''s time you leave, and if you say anything else, just know my father-in-law is close friends with the Chief of Police.¡± Ethan threatened, Dyle knew that there was nothing more he could do.


    Doyle held his hands, in a gesture of surrender trying to calm Ethan down. ¡°I''m not here to slander anyone Ethan, I''m just checking on you for Lila. Your friend just wants to make sure you''re okay.¡±


    Ethan glared at the older man, eyes still filled with anger. ¡°I¡¯m fine. Ryan¡¯s fine. The both of us are fine!. Now please leave I have to get dinner ready.¡± Ethan shouted.


    Doyle sighed, he''s done all he can today. He reached into his pockets and pulled out his business card and gave it to Ethan, who certainly took it. ¡°I''ll leave, but if you ever need anything give me a call. Anytime anywhere just give me a call¡±.


    ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind,¡± Ethan said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.


    As Doyle left the penthouse, he knew that Ethan had been getting abused. All his years on the force gave him a sixth sense of this kind of thing. There was no way he was going to let this go. He didn''t care how many lawyers the Adams family had, he was going to help Ethan no matter the cost.

 Chapter 3

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