by Leanne Davis
“And razor blades? Do you find that helps you get out of your skin?”
She didn’t answer, but nodded her head yes.
“Are you considering suicide? Is that what you want me to see?”
“No. I don’t want to die. It’s not about that. I want to live. But without all these feelings. I just don’t know how.”
“I’m not the one to help you. I’m a soldier, and that’s it. I’m not sensitive, kind, or caring. I don’t even know what to say to you. I don’t know how to help you, but I do know you need to find somebody who can.”
She closed her eyes, then glanced over at him. Her eyes were big, with an expression of such need and longing, it made him shift in his seat. He thought she was looking at him like she ought to be looking at her own father. Her need for answers, trust, caring, and protection should come from the general. Yet, she was pleading with him to help her. He was nothing to her, nor was he at all willing to be.
“You’re different than other soldiers. Believe me, I know.”
He was only different because he rescued her. He understood that much, even if she didn’t. He believed she was having a serious case of hero worship towards him, thinking that because he helped her escape her horror, he was now privy to understanding her, and must care about her. He was merely a figurehead. Whoever was chosen to rescue her, would have become the same in her eyes.
“I’m not. I’m not different. You think I am the one person who understands you. You just need to tell someone else, so they can understand.”
She shifted her body, her Band-Aid of a skirt sliding higher up her thighs. He looked away.
“He knows.”
“Who knows?”
“The general. He thinks you didn’t see any of it.”
Will let that information sink in, before he finally asked, “And?”
“And what?”
“What’s he going to do about it? What did he say?”
“Nothing. Nothing happened. I’m fine. There’s nothing we can do to change it, so I have to be fine.”
“That’s what he told you to do? Pretend it didn’t happen? Did you tell him everything?”
“I told him enough.”
Jesus Christ, she told her father she was brutally raped and tortured, and her father ordered her to pretend she was fine? So this was Jessie doing fine. It was also why Jessie was doing so terribly. “When did you tell him?”
“A week before that stupid dinner, in honor of you, but really, it was in honor of him. He’s drawn so much publicity from this, and he’s thrilled about that. I finally did something right for him. It only cost me my soul.”
He couldn’t fathom the general he knew, the upstanding, beloved leader of soldiers, being the cold, calculating, cruel man Jessie claimed he was. He had a hard time believing her. She could easily be a pathological liar. Especially after the actions he’d seen. He’d been hearing about her for years. Why should he believe her now?
Then again, the way her family greeted her when she returned from hell was completely off and very weird.
“I can’t tell anyone. General’s orders. You going to tell me to talk now? You want me to go find help? No one else can ever know.”
“But you’re not fine.”
“No, I’m not fine,” she said softly. Tears fell from her eyes and streamed down her cheeks and into her mouth. If she were anyone else, he might have pulled her into his arms, but she wasn’t just anybody. She was Jessie Bains, the general’s problem daughter. Lindsey’s troubled sister. And she was too young, too unstable, and too easily riled up not to act out. There was no telling what she’d do to his career if she ever got as angry towards him as she had at Lindsey tonight.
Long moments passed as the tears streamed over her face. She finally curled into a ball, looked out his front windshield, and whispered, “I’m pregnant.”
Chapter Eight
Will stared at Jessie with his mouth open as his brain suddenly short-circuited.
“I can’t go home tonight. I need to sleep. I’m so tired. I just want to sleep. But I can’t. And I can’t tell anyone why. Except you.”
Except you echoed over and over in his mind. Jessie was pregnant? Holy shit. What was he supposed to do with this new information? There was always more with her, always more bad news. News that only he seemed privy to. How did he become the confidante of this troubled daughter of his superior?
“Are you asking to come home with me?”
“You don’t have to look so horrified. I don’t want to sleep with you. I just want to sleep.”
“You’re pregnant? What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I want to sleep. So I can think.”
Jessie was pregnant? Of course, she was. Why didn’t he think of that before now? Like maybe on the day it happened? There were pills to take to prevent such things, why didn’t he think of that then? Why didn’t he insist she go to the hospital? He just let her go back to her previous life as if nothing happened, when everything awful did happen to her. If she were pregnant, she could also have an STD or HIV. But instead of taking care of her, this girl who was too catatonic, and too distraught to take care of herself, he made sure to protect not only himself but also his own career by keeping mum. Until it was too late.
He didn’t know what to do then, and he didn’t know what to do now.
“You need to go to the hospital and get checked out. That should have been our first stop. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t do that much for you.”
“You don’t have to be sorry to me. No one else would do for me what you did. I wouldn’t have gone anyway, and I won’t now. So it doesn’t matter.”
“You have to.”
“I won’t. I mean it. Please don’t dump me there tonight. I know you’re mad at me, and I deserve it, but please don’t leave me tonight.”
He pulled out of the parking lot without answering, and she fell into silence. She must have realized he wasn’t taking her back to her father’s house as they were going the wrong way.
“I was going to tell Lindsey I’m pregnant. Although she’d probably assume it was one of my boyfriends.”
“So why didn’t you wait a couple of hours until she got home?”
“Because I heard your voice.”
“So?”
“So? I lose everything to Lindsey.”
Will left that alone. He didn’t like where it was going. He wasn’t anything to Jessie, only friendly with Lindsey, and had no interest in anything further with either of them, yet, Jessie tail-spinned into all this crap tonight because of it?
“Please, I’m asking you to help me.”
It wasn’t a good idea, Jessie being at his apartment. He knew that, and felt it in his bones. But he couldn’t stand to see her as she was now, or listen to her pleading, after knowing what he knew. He couldn’t turn his back on her.
He parked in the carport beside his three-story apartment building. It wasn’t much, but he didn’t need much. He didn’t spend a lot of time here. He prayed none of his neighbors saw them, or recognized Jessie entering his apartment and how she looked.
He unlocked the door, opened it, and let her pass by him. She stopped in the small entry and looked around. There wasn’t much to look at. Beige carpet, white walls, a couch, a recliner, a small dining table, and a TV. Home wasn’t found here. Home to him, was serving the military. There wasn’t a single picture on the walls, or a knick-knack anywhere. A basket next to his recliner held some magazines, but other than that, it could have been a hotel room.
“Is this what soldiers use for layovers between missions?”
“For me, it is.”
She walked in further. His eyes looked anywhere, but at her back. She slipped her shoes off and he saw they left deep red, gouge lines in her skin. Even her shoes caused her pain. She moved around his apartment, and he realized this idea was getting worse by the second. He cleared his throat. He didn’t want her here. He wanted to go back to calling h
er Ms. Bains and just being the soldier who saved her. Nothing more. There could be nothing at all beyond that. But there was. Because she was headed for trouble. She was in desperate need of help, and attention, and he was the only person who could give her any of that. No matter how unwilling he was to do so. He wasn’t the monster her father was. He could not ignore the pain and trouble that was drowning her.
“Can I take a shower?”
Was that a come on? He didn’t want to look at her for confirmation. He simply would have to drive her home if that were the case. He wasn’t making this worse by encouraging any of that.
“I want to shower off what happened tonight.”
Now he really, really, wished she hadn’t found him tonight. He knew way too much about the girl whose name he didn’t even want to remember.
“Through there.”
“Aren’t you going to go remove your razors first?”
“Why do you have to be so antagonistic? Me? Lindsey? Everyone in general? There are no razor blades in the apartment. Sorry to disappoint you. I gather you think Lindsey gets all your father’s love and attention, but you can’t deny doing everything you can to embarrass yourself, and him through you. You can’t deny that their disdain isn’t somewhat justified.”
He shouldn’t have spoken. Her face paled, and her brown eyes got bigger as if he slapped her. She fled into his bathroom, slamming the door behind her. He sighed, slumping against the counter while wishing he never rescued or met Jessie Bains.
****
The pressure was churning her gut, a swirling black ball of pain and disgust. He was right. Of course, Will was right. She was an awful person, and always had been. Who did the things she did? She had sex with someone five minutes after their introduction in order to feel better. What kind of woman did that make her? A whore. A slut. A prostitute. She looked into the mirror over the sink and recoiled in disdain. Oh God. She had makeup everywhere, in thick ugly chunks on her eyelids, running in evil streaks down her cheeks. Her hair was a mess from where the soldier held her head back as he slobbered all over her mouth, before shoving himself inside her. Hard. Brutal. And just as she told him to. But it didn’t do a thing to ease the ache, the numbness, or the memories. For a few moments, however, it let her believe she was getting what she deserved.
And Will saw all of this. He heard what she said to her sister. Nauseous bile started to swirl in her throat. She raised the toilet lid just in time to throw up. What did she take at the club? She didn’t know. Someone passed her a white pill and that was good enough to her. Whoever it was could have drugged her and taken her anywhere. What was wrong with her? Didn’t she learn anything? How could she continue to do these things? She was stupid, reckless, and dangerous. She dropped down on her knees before the toilet and leaned her head against the wall.
“Open the door. I heard you get sick. Open up.”
She jumped at hearing Will’s voice and scrambled to her feet. She flushed the toilet before starting the shower. “I’m fine. Just too much alcohol.”
“Jesus, Jessie. That’s not comforting.”
She took her clothes off, and stood under the still cold water pouring out of the showerhead. It jolted her, but she liked it. It was relaxing somehow. Like cutting was.
When she finished, she toweled off, wrapped it around herself, and ran her hands through her hair. At least, she didn’t look like a whore anymore. Didn’t smell like one anymore either. She opened the door. Will sat on the couch, looking at the TV.
“Do you have something I could wear?”
“Wear?”
“I don’t want to wear those clothes.”
“Now it occurs to you they’re rather a bad choice?”
He could be sarcastic and almost funny at times. It surprised her when he was.
“Please?”
He glanced over at her before getting up. She liked his full height, as well as his broad shoulders bulging under the shirt he wore. He was handsome, especially out of his Army clothes. He had blond hair, warm brown eyes, and a body like most soldiers: sculpted muscles, big arms, broad shoulders, and pronounced abs and butt. She grew up around men like him. Long ago, she started rolling her eyes at the cookie-cutter appearance of the soldiers she knew and slept with. But Will was somehow different. He was like no one she’d ever met before. He was big and safe, and his looks never even entered the equation. Even though he had them, that wasn’t what she liked about him.
He walked back to the door she held, and handed her a t-shirt and sweats. His. She knew she’d be swimming in them, but she sensed he’d throw her on the doorstep if she didn’t put them on. No more games tonight. She got that loud and clear.
She dressed, opened the door, and walked over to where he sat on the couch. His eyes were on her, but he looked back at the evening news, and crossed his arms over his chest.
“No more crap tonight.”
“I know.”
She sat down at the other end of the couch, properly chagrined. He could affect her like no other man did. Quite simply, she was beginning to care about what he thought of her. That was unusual for her with most men or boys. She liked to mess with them. Didn’t care if they wanted her or not, or liked her or not. She liked to control them, and make them uncomfortable. But not Will. She had no effect whatsoever on him. He didn’t react to her like any man she’d ever known.
Jessie laid her head on the armrest. She felt sick, tired, and numb, but she was okay. Sitting with Will nearby, she felt safe. She felt in control. She didn’t feel the need to get up and do something stupid or crazy so she could escape her own screaming thoughts. She didn’t want to crawl under the bed in fright at who might come through the door.
“I’m sorry, Will.”
He glanced her way and said nothing. Surprisingly, she fell asleep to the sounds of the TV and Will’s silent presence beside her.
****
Will saw her eyes close. The tension in his neck finally released when her body sagged into the armrest. She was asleep, and he was finally free of her. It was better to be with her when she looked like she did before the shower. The whorish aspect wasn’t anything he liked. And now? Now, she looked and smelled like a fresh, pretty, young girl. For a few seconds, with her hair pulled off her face, she seemed wholesome, sweet, pure, and almost like her sister. Now, she could be someone he might consider his type.
She also appeared as exhausted as she claimed she was. There were dark circles under her eyes, and the whites of her eyes were red-rimmed. Will couldn’t figure out what he was supposed to do about it. What would one night here with him do for her? One night’s sleep was nothing to what she had to face. She was pregnant. Traumatized. Suffering as much as he’d seen soldiers suffer after war zones. Jessie probably had a case of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, as well as the ongoing case of dysfunctional family dynamics. All of which made him feel sympathetic toward her, but he knew he wasn’t the answer she needed.
She had to get serious professional help, both physically and emotionally. He just didn’t know how to convince her to.
He got up and stared down at her. She couldn’t sleep semi-slouching on the couch. He leaned closer, sliding an arm under her legs, and the other under her shoulders to lift her next to his chest. She was small and light as she settled against him, barely opening her eyes. He was pretty sure this wasn’t a game. She didn’t seem to try her sex act with him. She didn’t see him like that. In a way, he wished she would, because it meant he was nothing to her.
He carried her to his bedroom, lay her down on the bedsheets, and pulled the covers over her. She shifted and turned to her side, away from him. He backed out and headed towards his kitchen counter where his laptop sat. He flipped it open, Googled Jessie Bains, and decided to see for himself what he was dealing with. There wasn’t a huge amount of info, but enough to give a pretty clear picture that Lindsey wasn’t lying about her. Jessie had been acting out for several years. There were numerous scandals and confidentiality agreement
s with the private school where Jessie attended high school. She was nearly expelled twice, but for what? It didn’t say. Of course, front and center was her sex tape. He eyed the closed bedroom door. What the hell? Wasn’t much he hadn’t seen of Jessie anyway. He clicked on the link.
He found it harder to watch now, after knowing her, than it was when he didn’t know her. It was overly graphic of her, but not her partner. He leaned back into his chair to watch with a clinical detachment most men never found with Jessie.
His ultimate deduction? Jessie was a screwed-up mess. Of course, the general hated the tape, since it was so public. It was explicit and kinky, what father wouldn’t react negatively to such a thing? But then again, why did she do it? Before the kidnapping, she was promiscuous and antagonistic. Why? Just to bother her father?
And what about the razor blades? Who did that except people with serious emotional problems?
Will leaned forward and typed in “self-cutting.” He blinked in surprise when Google listed hundreds of links with titles ranging from self-mutilation, self-hurt, self-violence, to just plain “cutters.” There were medical articles, personal stories, and support groups. He picked one at random and started reading. And reading. And reading. Ultimately, he knew he stumbled into an emotional quagmire in the figure of Jessie Bains.
He knew what happened to Jessie in Mexico. But what happened to her before the kidnapping? Why was cutting her way to deal with whatever she couldn’t handle? And what would this do to her now? Obviously, she was currently spinning out of control. What concerned Will the most was he didn’t know what the hell he was supposed to do about it, or why it had to be him.
Chapter Nine
Jessie screamed when she came to in the dark room. She felt a hand on her body. She struggled frantically, but as usual, the man’s brawn held her down. She was always too small, too weak, to fight anyone off. She twisted desperately to make him stop it. Whoever he was.
