by H. J. Bellus
As if hypnotized, I listen to every single word he speaks. I understand the words, but it’s the honesty behind his gaze that convinces me. I can’t help but whimper as he adjusts me in his arms. He’s gentle, but any movement causes me to gasp in horror. It’s pain like I’ve never felt before, and I can’t quite make out if it’s the emotional trauma of being beaten in public or the physical throbs screaming from my body.
Dingy ceiling tiles fill my vision as he walks me through the waiting room and down a hall. I can tell he’s following a nurse’s panicked voice. His grip tightens with each step, and it helps offset the pain caused by each impact of his foot on the floor. When he rounds a corner, all the lights become brighter and voices become louder and faster paced. I have to tuck my head into his chest to protect my eyes from the glare. One eye is almost swollen shut, but the other is wide open and the light is a white-hot dagger in stabbing in my head.
My hand finds the side of his cheek as comfort. “Don’t leave me.”
Before he has a chance to respond, a barrage of other voices join in, commanding him to lay me on the bed, and the rapid fire of questioning begins. They want to know my name, age, what happened, living relatives, and the list just keeps going on. I try as long as possible to keep hold of him. First it was his hand and then a piece of his shirt, but before I know it he’s gone, and then everything goes dark.
***
Light barely comes back into my thoughts. Everything has been so dark for what seems forever. The only pictures haunting my thoughts were Maxton standing above me, ridiculing me with his words and then landing a blow to my face. The stranger would visit my thoughts once in a while, but those were very short-lived and blurry.
Sounds finally come to me. A pinging noise resembling rain patters softly somewhere, while footsteps and other clanging join in. I try to move my body, but feel paralyzed. Struggling again, I will myself to roll over, and when my body finally cooperates I scream from the movement. A tearing sensation rips through my entire body from head to the tips of my toes. Pain I’ve never felt before.
“What in the hell are you doing?”
The deep baritone voice scares the shit out of me, sending me straight back to the night when Maxton stood before me demeaning and beating me. Wait, am I still there? Where am I? Opening my eye, I don’t recognize any of my surroundings. It’s a cramped studio apartment with hardly any furnishings. The voice speaks again, but I’m unable to decipher a word through my panic.
Fighting through the pain, I finally sit up. My hands grip onto the light tan couch cushions, digging up the courage to stand and run. Finally my legs cooperate and I jolt forward.
“Jenni.” The deep voice is closer and my stomach twists. “It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you.”
By some miracle of nature, my body lunges forward and my feet work one step after another until I collide into a bare-chested man. Looking up into his face, I’m immediately relieved it is not Maxton. It’s the man who rescued me.
“Where am I?” I try to ask a question, but there are so many wanting to come from my mouth. “Who are…?”
“Jenni, please.” He takes my elbow, and I can only comply as he leads me back to the couch.
“No,” I try to protest.
He gently places me back on the cushions, and I’m reminded of how he saved me with each of his gracious moves and caring touch. My nerves ease a bit, but not much considering how foggy my brain feels.
“Jenni, I brought you back to my house.” He kneels down in front of me, and his bare chest brushes against my kneecaps. “You were scared and said you didn’t have anywhere to go. I waited for you and to see what the doctors had to say. You refused to talk to the police, and I couldn’t just leave you there.”
My hands frantically search for my phone and find nothing. I’m in an oversized pair of sweats and an unfamiliar hoodie. Slowly I drag my hands through my hair, trying to remember the conversation he’s talking about and can’t recall a thing. My fingers run into a fresh set of staples on the left side of my skull, and I immediately pull back.
“I don’t remember any of that.”
“It’s probably all of the meds you’re on.”
He stands, and this is the first time I get a good look at the whole man. He’s clothed only in jeans, with a bare chest and bare feet. His dark brown hair is a mess, with his face still peppered in his scruffy beard. He catches me staring and begins to back up quickly.
“I’ll go put a shirt on.” He covers his chest with his strong hands. “I didn’t think you’d wake up so soon.”
A slight awkward blush covers his face as he backs out of the living room. As I look around, there are only two doors in this whole place. I’m assuming the other one leads outside. Behind the couch is the kitchen with just a single bar countertop. A refrigerator, stove, and cabinets rest behind it, and in front of me there is a large window. It looks as if it may open up or even be a door. The final thing I notice is a television sitting on a crate in front of the couch.
I chuckle at the wooden crate. I’ve seen so many of those over the past few years at frat parties and other college gatherings. It’s the one staple every college student has. I’m not sure if it’s because they are so cheap or look good with beer stains on them. I find myself smiling at my thoughts.
My lips. I explore them with my fingertips, feeling all the cracks and scabs covering them. I inwardly wince imagining what I look like.
“Oh, here.” He’s back in the room with a dark gray V-neck, but still in bare feet. “They sent you home with this salve for your lips.”
He reaches into a plastic bag with a glaring blue logo on the front, and I watch as he pulls out a cream tube. Without a word, he sits next to me, and dips his finger into the ointment and spreads it over my lips.
Flashbacks of Maxton hurting me threaten to ruin this moment, and it takes every single part of me to remind myself he’s not Maxton.
“Who are you?” I reach for his forearm, stopping him from putting any more balm on my lips. “I need to know your name, at least.”
“My name is Beau.”
“Why did you help me?”
“Why wouldn’t I help you?”
“You don’t even know me.”
“I heard you screaming and the sounds of someone being hit. I had to help you. I mean, no one deserves that—no one, Jenni.”
Looking up into his face and still gripping his arm, I try to say thank you, but can’t find the words. “I’m not sure I deserved to be saved.”
Beau pulls his arm from my grip and begins to paint my lips with the balm again. It’s a menthol concoction, sending a slight sting into my lips, but the moisture from it is enough to soothe my injuries.
“Don’t you ever say that.” Beau cups my face, forcing me to look up into his mocha colored eyes. “I’d do it all over again.”
“Thank you.” The words slip out, barely audible.
“Do you want to call someone? I’m sure you have worried family and friends.” Beau drags my cellphone with a severely cracked screen from his pocket. “It still works. I put it on my charger last night.”
I shake my head. There’s no way I want to call my Aunt Danielle, who loves and cherishes me like her own daughter, only to disappoint her with the cold, hard fact I allowed myself to be used like a piece of trash. Then Lynlee and Jazzy enter my thoughts, and that’s a super quick hell no. They’ll be over here in an instant, forcing me to press charges against Maxton. I can already hear their judgmental accusations and I told you so quotes, then their men would be right behind them stewing to get to Maxton, and I’m sure they’d have a word or two for me as well.
Being beaten was embarrassing enough, then being saved by Beau was humiliating and humbling all at once. I don’t need anyone else judging me. I’m pretty sure I’m hard enough on myself.
“Stop.” Beau pulls me down into his hard chest and pats my head. “I can hear every one of your thoughts. You’re welcome to stay here as lon
g as you need.”
My tears begin to pour down Beau’s chest at his kind thoughts and his comforting hands. This man doesn’t even know me, and yet is so kind and caring.
“I’m sorry to bring this into your life.”
“I’m not. Like I said, I’d save you all over again in a single heartbeat.”
Finally I relax into him. “I just feel like everyone is waiting for me to fuck up and then judge me. It’s like I’m okay to be there when they need something, but besides that they don’t want me.”
I feel Beau’s hand grip me tighter as he lays his head on top of mine. The scruff of his jaw scrapes against my forehead. His touch and smell make me feel at ease with everything, and in a weird way I don’t feel embarrassed to be here.
“I understand everything you just said more than you’ll ever know.”
“Thank you,” I murmur into his grey V-neck. “I’m not sure it’s okay for me to stay here. Maybe I need to go home.”
“I’m not going to tell you what to do, but I really think you need to have some help for the next couple days.” Beau’s chiseled chest raises, forcing me to sit back up on my own. The serious tone of his voice matches the look in his eyes.
“I have to pee.” Wanting to avoid all confrontation and serious thought, I just blurt out what’s on my bladder.
“Bathroom is in my room. You’ll see it.”
Forgetting what my body has been through, I stand and am instantly reminded of the pain. Clearly my right side is worse off than the left, because my right leg buckles under my weight, totally giving out on me. In the next second I’m plummeting toward the ground. My hand luckily catches the corner of the coffee table, so it’s not an outright fall. My knee slams down onto the hardwood floor as I try to figure what in the hell to do.
Hands are immediately on me, wrapping me up, pulling me back to a standing position, but this time Beau has me cradled against him. He’s completely holding me up. The top of my forehead fits perfectly below his chin.
“Take it easy.” Beau’s chin rests on the top of my head as my fists clutch his cotton shirt. “Jenni, your injuries are very serious. You have two broken ribs on your right side and several serious bruises. Not to mention the cast on your left arm.”
His words make me wiggle my fingers on my left hand. I knew it didn’t feel right, but in my hazy condition hadn’t even noticed it wrapped in a hard cast. More tears spill from my eyes at the full realization of how seriously my body has been harmed. It’s not like the other times, when I could simply cover the evidence with a long sweater or hoodie. There was no way to conceal these. I’ll have to face them head on day by day.
After mentally berating myself once again, I finally remember why I stood up in the first place.
“I have to go pee.” Tears clog my voice as I try to speak loudly enough for Beau to hear.
Without words, he slowly and very gently guides me over to the entry of his bedroom. Clearing his throat, he continues to maneuver me through piles of clothes and miscellaneous items. I’m unable to study my surroundings too long, as my concentration is elsewhere.
“I’ll wait right here.” Beau leans up against the white doorjamb, which leads into a tiny bathroom.
Taking my first step from him, I shriek in pain. Without his grip on my right side I can’t take another step. Frozen, I can’t even bear to cry or scream again. I simply want to die, seeing no light at the end of the tunnel. I can’t seem to do anything for myself and want life to end.
Hands grab me again; Beau is on my right side, and without question leads me straight to the toilet. In one swift motion he faces me to him, guiding me until the back of my legs are pressed against the chilled porcelain. I feel his hands slowly drag down my pants while his deep brown eyes stay magnetized on mine. Silent tears tumble down my cheeks. I have no words. He never breaks eye contact with me while he pulls down my panties and gently eases me down into a sitting position. Once I’m settled on the toilet, he backs up again, never changing his very serious facial expression.
I hear his body fall back against the doorjamb and know he’s waiting for me with the door wide open. Moments pass by while I try to digest the whole scene. I can’t even walk, let alone get to the bathroom by myself. My brain reels from what Beau just did for me without question. I force my bladder to release, but nothing happens, and then once again I’m distracted by my thoughts.
“Beau, could you please shut the door?”
I watch as his very masculine tanned arm reaches around the corner and shuts the door.
“Thank you.” My voices cracks in an odd way, and I feel silly when the words leave my mouth.
Different parts of my body begin to wake up as I focus on peeing. My head begins with a steady throb, sharp pains gyrate through my right side with each breath I take, and my legs begin to shake. The shaking slowly creeps up into my torso. I feel chilled, trying to calm my trembling body.
“I can’t pee.”
Yet again I feel foolish telling Beau this information, but my need to get back to his couch is greater than anything else. The door opens, but this time he doesn’t make eye contact. Rather, he walks with his back to me to the sink and turns on the water. In the next moment he is bent over the bathtub turning on that faucet.
“It’s an old trick my grams taught me. Just listen to the water.”
Beau doesn’t leave the room this time. He stands there with his back to me. The sound of the running water is powerful and also very loud, causing my bladder to finally cooperate with me. And even though Beau is standing mere feet away, I finally pee and it’s the best feeling I’ve had in hours. Flushing the toilet, I try to stand again.
“Done?” he asks with his back still toward me.
“Yes, but I can do it this time.”
“I don’t think so.” Beau faces me again, staring me down with those eyes. “Don’t fight me on this. You’re in too much pain.”
Again he reaches down, finding the hem of my pants and pulling them up. A slight smile spreads across his face.
“Oops, panties first.”
I let out a little giggle as he reaches back down, placing my panties in the perfect position and then readjusting my pants.
“Whose are these, anyway?”
“Mine. I didn’t know what else to put you in.”
And as if seeing the question all over my face he immediately answers it.
“I brought them to the hospital, and the nurse helped you get into them.”
A sigh of relief fills the tiny room along with a slight moan of pain.
“Thank God, but I don’t even remember getting here, Beau.”
“You’re on lot of pain pills.”
Beau once again maneuvers me, gliding me over to the sink.
“You don’t have to look in the mirror.” Beau’s strong hands brush all my hair to one side of my neck. “Just wash your hands. I see past the bruising and swelling. Jenni, you’re a beautiful woman.”
I do as I’m told, not ready to look into a mirror yet.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Well, I’d like to think I’m doing it because I’m a good guy.”
“You are a good guy. Thank you, Beau.”
“You don’t know me, Jenni. I try, but I’m not any good.”
I turn around in his arms, facing him; Beau doesn’t lose his grip on me at any point.
“You saved me.” Standing on my tiptoes, I place a gentle kiss on his cheek. I feel the roughness of his stubble, and something happens when my lips are on his skin. Something deep down in my gut twists, and I don’t know if it’s a warning sign to run or a sign of something else.
Beau guides me again through his room, and this time my eyes are able to focus on items. I zone in on a picture of a baby girl on his nightstand, next to a pair of dog tags, and questions run wild in my head. I push down the curiosity and concentrate on making it back to the couch. Even with Beau at my side, the pain is getting worse with each step, and the main
source of it is still settled in my right side.
“You need to try to eat and take some pills.”
We pass the couch as Beau steers me over to a small table with two chairs. I notice a dish.
“I made you this. You need to take a couple bites so these meds don’t tear up your belly too bad.”
Sitting down, I clearly smell the scent of the pizza pocket in front of me and then hear my stomach growl. Beau shoots me a look with a raised eyebrow.
“Guess you know what’s best.” I shrug.
I can tell Beau is dying to pry at certain questions, so I decide to clear the air once and for all.
“I don’t have parents. They both left me a long time ago. They couldn’t stand my annoying personality. My aunt Danielle took me in, and she’s my only family. I only have two true friends who will worry about where I am, but not too much because I’m known to disappear for periods of time.” Dropping my head, I focus on the silver fork lying next to my plate. “You could say I have a track record of making bad decisions and having an addictive personality. If it’s all right, I’d just like to crash here for the next couple days until I can walk.”
My face burns after the question leaves my mouth. I feel like a fool asking to stay and basically spilling my guts to him. Internally, I cringe. What the fuck, outwardly I cringe and would give anything to be able to stand and walk out that door. Too ashamed to look up at Beau, I keep my head down and nibble at the pepperoni pizza pocket in front of me. Two white pills are slid into my view. Beau leaves his hand on the table near the pills, and when I don’t look up he clutches my hand, squeezing it a bit.
“You don’t have to be so embarrassed. I’m not sure I’d let you go right now anyway.”
His words relax me somewhat, making it possible for me look up at him. His face is still serious with a touch of comfort to it. And when I make eye contact he doesn’t let go of my hand. Beau picks up both of the pills and holds them to my mouth, and naturally I open up for him. Before I have time to grab the glass of water he has it at my lips. The pills go down easily, and I finish the rest of my food while Beau busies himself in the kitchen. My fingers find my lips, caressing them and remembering the feel of his touch on them and his scruff from when I kissed him. There’s something about this man.
