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When I opened my eyes, I found a very elegant, older Hispanic woman watching me with heavy-lidded brown eyes. Dressed in a cranberry watered silk pantsuit, there wasn’t a hair on her silver and black head that was out of place, and her makeup was impeccable. When she reached to help me up, I was surprised at how strong she was. For a woman in probably her late fifties or early sixties, she had some muscle on her.
“N-no pain medication. I’m good.” The need to never show weakness had me smiling as much as I could with my sore face.
The older woman’s Latin accent became heavier as she said, “Come now, let’s get you into the shower. It has a bench, so you can sit, but we need to get the blood out of your lovely hair as much as we can without getting your wound wet.”
I could only stare at her as she helped me undress, totally thrown for a loop before I managed to stutter out, “Hannah, is she okay?”
“Yes, she’s fine. Well, she’s suffered some injuries, but nothing permanent.”
“And Kayla?”
“That one is being sent back to her parents, so they can deal with her.”
“Where am I? Who are you?” She reached for my bra, and I smacked her hand away. “Hey now!”
The woman cocked her head and gave me a stern look that had me wanting to apologize for hitting her when she’d been trying to take off my underwear. “Can you manage it yourself?”
“I’m not doing anything until you tell me what’s going on with Hannah.”
I realized that I must look a little silly, with my hands on my hips, in my not matching black bra and grey panties, glaring at her. But I had enough, and I wasn’t backing down until I knew what was going on my best friend.
“Hannah is going to be okay. She’s resting. My name is Judith Cordova, Leo—Hannah’s boyfriend—is my son in everything but blood. You’re at my house, recovering in safety and comfort, after the terrible ordeal you endured.” I must have swayed, because she reached out and put her hand on my shoulder, steadying me as she tilted her head down to look me in the eyes. “The men that hurt you have been dealt with. They will never bother you again.”
For some strange reason, I believed her. “What happened to them?”
She turned on the shower for me. “We’ll talk about it after you’ve cleaned up. The dried blood must be making your skin itch.”
Now that she mentioned it, my whole body suddenly felt itchy and yucky. “What about the police? Do I need to give a statement or something?”
“When you’re better. You had quite a knock to your head, but my physician assures me you will be just fine.” She paused for a moment and her gaze went soft in a way that changed her whole intimidating façade into one filled with maternal warmth and concern. “Did those men…touch you in any way?”
“You mean besides pistol whipping me and kicking me around like a soccer ball?” I rubbed my suddenly chilled arms. “Other than that, I’m okay.”
The wrinkles around her mouth deepened as she frowned, that ice queen look she wore so well taking over. “Please, mija, take a shower. I find the sight of the blood in your hair quite distressing.”
Lifting my hands to where my curls were crusted with my dried blood, I took in a deep, shivery breath. “Yuck.”
“Do you need help washing? You must try to keep the bandage dry.”
No doubt blushing my ass off, I shook my head. “No, I’ll be careful, and I can take it from here. I was a rough and tumble kid. This isn’t the first cut on my head I’ve ever had.”
She nodded. “I’ll be waiting for you in your bedroom. There are clothes for you on the vanity. I’m going to leave the door cracked, so if you feel dizzy and need me, call me so I can get to you before you break your stubborn head open again on the tile. And let me tell you, a second knock to your head at this point would be very detrimental. If done in the right area, you could lose precious memories, or the use of your limbs. With a hard enough crack, you could spend the rest of your days as a vegetable, or suffer from daily seizures. But, since you appear to be a smart young woman, I’m sure you won’t push yourself too far. Correct?”
Man, she was scary. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Judith will do.” She gave me a small smile that warmed her mercurial brown eyes as she left, keeping the door opened about two inches, as promised.
After soaking my sore body in the deliciously hot water, and carefully washing my hair as much as I could, I dressed in a very pretty, feminine ruffled pair of peach pajama pants and an off-white peasant blouse with small flowers stitched around the edging.
