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“My mom always did Christmas real well,” she continued. “She wasn’t so good the rest of the year, but December, she ... turned something on. She baked cookies. Decorated. Put on music. The movies. Made it special.”
Her voice was still scratchy now, but it sounded better. She spoke with a childlike tenor to her voice.
“Diane, can I ask you a question?” I asked, lowering the washcloth.
Her small form tightened, and all of the comfort she might’ve had before disappeared. I reached out to squeeze her hand.
“How old are you?”
She relaxed, and her face loosened slightly. “I’m, um, nineteen.”
Jesus fucking Christ. She was nineteen. Nineteen.
A soft knock at the door had both of us jumping, and I instinctively shielded Diane by standing between her and the door. Jay opened the door, eyes glued on me. He had a first aid kit in his hands.
I squeezed Diane’s hand. “It’s okay,” I murmured, making sure to look her in the eye before I stood up to approach Jay.
I took the kit from him, making sure to look in his eye too. I made sure that I injected all of my accusation and all of my fury into that gaze too.
“You can leave now,” I bit out.
Jay’s gaze was granite. He didn’t move.
“Let me rephrase that,” I raised my chin. “You’re going to leave now.”
A muscle in Jay’s jaw ticced, something I’d never seen before, an outward sign of anger. And I didn’t give a fuck about that right now. Didn’t care that I was breaking through something. Getting to him in any kind of way. Right now, I was furious at him. More than enough to extinguish any kind of fear I had of him.
I held his stare, making it clear I was refusing to back down, that I wasn’t going to do anything until he left. Jay challenged me for a few more beats before he turned around and left.
“I can’t believe you talked to Jay like that,” Diane whispered once the door closed. “No one talks to Jay like that.”
I smiled at her as I set the kit on the counter, opening it. “Maybe more people need to talk to him like that.”
“I don’t think there’s anyone alive that has,” she murmured.
Something about that chilled me. Right to the bone. But I couldn’t focus on that right now. I had to be warm, comforting right now.
“He looks after us, Jay,” Diane offered as I went to work on her face.
“It doesn’t look like that’s what he was doing,” I scoffed.
“If it wasn’t for Jay, I would be—”
She broke off abruptly, her voice cracking as a single tear trailed down her cheek.
I wiped it away.
“Diane, look at me,” I ordered.
Her lost and scared blue eyes found mine.
“You’re safe. You’re whole. You will survive this,” I whispered.
I watched the words resonate, trickle through all of her fear, pain and trauma. I squeezed her hand. “What’s your opinion on Die Hard?”
She blinked at my question.
“There’s a fierce debate as to whether or not it classifies as a Christmas movie,” I explained. “And since you’re somewhat of an expert, I’d love to hear your answer.”
Her face relaxed, ever so slightly, some of the tension around her dissipating. “Totally a Christmas movie.”
“I agree,” I responded, working on her face once more.
I kept asking her light questions, distracting ones, despite how desperate I was to know about Jay and how she was connected to him. Asking those questions would’ve been selfish. Harmful. I needed to protect this girl.
I’d figure out how to protect myself later.
“Where is she?” Jay demanded when I entered the kitchen.
Karson was standing there too. Watching the two of us. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought there was some kind of amusement in his eyes. But, of course, he couldn’t possibly be amused right now with a nineteen-year-old rape victim in the house right now.
“She’s getting changed,” I answered, folding my arms. “Then she’s going to go to a hospital, where she’s going to be treated by someone whose medical knowledge does not come from nine seasons of Grey’s Anatomy,” I continued. “After that, there will need to be some kind of statement made to the proper authorities who will make sure whoever did this pays.”
“They’re going to pay,” Karson announced in a clipped tone.
I looked to the man. There was no amusement in his eyes now. There was an anger, a fury that scared me a whole bunch.
“Forgive me if I don’t believe you right now,” I snapped before I looked back to Jay. “If I don’t believe a single word of what either of you have to say.”
“We are going to take care of Diane, Stella,” Jay said, the words an oath.
I quirked my brow at him. “Really, Jay? What does taking care of her look like? Because when I walked in here, it was the two of you chatting while a teenage girl stood in front of you both bleeding and fucking traumatized!”
