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She was not okay. She was terrified. She was with two men who weren’t comforting her, weren’t helping her. Fuck, they might have been responsible for this.
Without thinking on it further, I moved. What I didn’t do was look at Jay. His eyes followed me across the room, I knew that. They would be full of his version of fury for me disobeying him, but I didn’t care about that right now. I walked right between Jay and Karson and took the woman’s hand.
She flinched ever so slightly when my hand made contact, but she didn’t pull away. Her grip was mighty.
“I’m Stella,” I offered quietly, as gently and comforting as I could.
“Diane,” she wheezed back in that tortured croak.
I smiled at her, doing my best to make it soft, reassuring, safe. I did my best not to burst in to tears in the face of this violence.
“Diane, would you like to come with me to the bathroom where I’ll be able to help you clean up?” I asked softly.
Again, her eyes flickered to Jay, with fear, as if she was terrified that her answer would be the wrong one.
“You don’t need to look at him,” I told her, moving my other hand ever so gently to grasp her chin and turn it back toward me. “He’s not the boss of you. Or me. I’m going to take care of you.” I made sure my voice was firm. Sure. For both Diane and for Jay.
“If you would prefer to leave, you can come with me while I get dressed, and I’ll drive you wherever you need to go,” I added, in case this woman needed some kind of escape. Not in case. She definitely needed some kind of escape. And so did I. “No one is going to stop us.” Again, this was for Jay’s benefit more than anyone’s.
“No, I’ll stay,” she replied meekly. “I’m safe here.”
I wasn’t sure if she was speaking to me or herself.
“That’s right, honey, you’re safe here,” I repeated. “We’re going to go to the bathroom.”
I then I looked at Jay. His gaze was pure ice, focused squarely on me. All of his menace, all of his intensity. And it didn’t scare me. Not one bit. Not right then, at least.
“I need a first aid kit,” I told him, making sure my voice was authoritative, unquestionable. “You can bring it to the bathroom.”
Without waiting for him to respond, I guided Diane out of the kitchen and down to the bathroom. Once we were there, I made sure to close the door, itching to lock it, but I needed Jay and the kit.
“Do you want a shower?” I asked, then I hesitated because if she’d been raped, she’d need to go to hospital for a rape kit. Or at least I was pretty sure that’s what happened. Luckily, my own experience had been different. I hadn’t been bruised, except on the inside. This woman wasn’t going to leave this situation with just bruises. She’d be scarred. Forever.
Diane’s eyes were wide as she took in the bathroom. Then she focused on the shower. “No,” she retorted quietly.
I nodded, walking to grab a washcloth then wet it with warm water.
“Sit down if you want,” I gestured toward the black chair that was in the corner of the bathroom.
She moved to it and sank down. Half collapsed, like she had been about to fall to her knees this entire time. The wince she made when she sat down told me what I needed to know about the possible rape.
My stomach roiled, but I willed it to settle. This did not happen to me. This happened to this woman ... this girl. On closer inspection, she couldn’t have been more than twenty-one. She was no taller than 5'5? in heels and maybe one hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet.
She needed someone strong, compassionate and sure right now. Not some woman breaking down because she couldn’t handle the shock of seeing someone in her condition.
I knelt down in front of her, gently lifting the washcloth to her face. She winced as I moved it against her skin. Tears mixed with the blood and mascara I was washing off. I sank my teeth into my lip until I tasted blood, forcing myself not to let any of my own fall.
“Tell me your favorite movie,” I blurted, unable to handle the silence but not knowing if asking her what happened was the right thing to do.
Diane blinked a couple of times before focusing on me. “My favorite movie?” she repeated.
I nodded.
“Um, it’s,” she thought for a moment. “It’s Love Actually.”
“Good choice,” I agreed with a smile. “One of my favorite Christmas movies.”
She smiled back sadly. “Mine too. I love Christmas movies. I watch them all year round. Because Christmas is my favorite holiday.”
“Mine too,” I replied, moving the washcloth, trying not to focus on how the white was turning a very dark pink.
