Johnny hands me a pill, and I do as I’m told.
“This is the part where I need you to take off your shirt—it’s already ripped halfway.”
“I can put on the ointment myself.” I reach out my hand, but flinch involuntarily from the act.
He rocks back. “If you can reach your arm around to your side, I’ll let you put this on yourself.”
It’s a challenge, which I smugly accept.
Except I can’t. So I try again. The pain is too much, and my will is not enough. Tears sting my eyes.
“Can you lift your arms up?” His voice is soft and his eyes are caring. For some reason, I trust him.
I shake my head. “I can’t.” I feel my face flush with embarrassment.
“It’s okay, Caroline.” Johnny smiles as he brushes the back of his hand against my cheek.
Slowly, he slides the hem of my shirt up my sides and over my chest. I shy away quickly, but he keeps up his task without making a crude comment or randy remark. So I look back at him. He cautiously guides my arms, one at a time, through my sleeves, making sure to support my arms so they don’t carelessly fall and smack against my bruised ribs.
Johnny sets my shirt next to me and sighs.
“What?” I warily ask, afraid to see what I look like myself.
“You are…” He looks up at me and softly smiles. “You are beautiful, Caroline.”
I don’t know what it is: the moment, the care, or his freaking accent…but I feel his warmth, and I want more of it.
“Thank you.” I quietly mumble back.
Slowly, he begins to rub the ointment on my ribs, taking care to not apply pressure when I wince.
He finishes, and I feel a pang of sadness. His hands, his strong hands, on my body… well, I really enjoyed it and I didn’t want him to stop.
Johnny left my view to wash his hands, and then stepped quickly back in front of me. “Do you need anything?”
“My shirt-back on?” I try to shrug.
And there’s that sly smile again. “Oh no. You’re staying just like this.”
“Jerk.” I narrow my eyes.
“I have to head to the studio.”
“Shoot. What time is it?” I completely forgot that I had to work.
“Oh no. You’re staying right here.” He shakes his head, suddenly serious.
“Johnny, I can’t.”
“Well, I’m your boss, and I say you’re staying right here.”
He kneels down in front of me.
“Johnny, please…”
But he cuts me off. “Listen, I need you to stay here. Unless you feel like you need to go to the emergency room.”
“No!” I quickly interject.
“Then you stay here, and when we break for lunch, I’ll bring you something from craft services.”
“And then you’ll put my shirt back on?” I bite my bottom lip.
Johnny stares at me for a second. It’s an interesting kind of stare: like he’s trying to figure me out.
But then he leans into me.
“We’ll see.” He whispers before he plants the softest kiss on my cheek. “If you need anything, my phone number is right here, next to the phone.”
Johnny smiles one more time before he turns away and walks to the door.
“Hey.” I call after him.
“Yeah?” He turns around, his hand on the doorknob.
“Thank you.”
He nods knowingly, and then leaves me alone.
Alone.
Alone.
I have nothing now but the memories: all the memories.
I replay the events of the last few hours over and over in my head. I beat myself up over my silly, stupid actions. How could I be so careless? So ridiculously immature?
How could I let that happen to me?
How could I be so vulnerable?
How could I be such a victim?
And then it hits me like a ton of bricks. I was a victim. I couldn’t stand up for myself. I could’ve been killed.
I feel like I’m going to throw up.
I feel like I’m going to pass out.
I need to get out of here.
So I pick up the phone and dial.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Damn, Care Bear, what the hell happened to you?”
I give Keith a death look, as I was really hoping when I called him from Johnny’s apartment that he wouldn’t turn around and call his wife.
“I’m fine.” I grumble, still staring at Keith, the traitor.
“You are not fine.” She coddles me. “Did you get run over by a car?”
“No.” My feet begin to fidget. “I just got a little bit… mugged.”
“Oh my God.” Melissa screams as she rises to her feet. “Where were you? What time? How many people? What did they take? Did you go to the hospital?”
“Melissa, calm down.” I try to raise my hand up to her, but my ribs are still aching, and I find it hard to stretch that way. “I just called Keith because I know you guys have a spare set of my keys.”
“She refused to let me take her to the hospital, so I wouldn’t let her go home.” Keith interposes, as he returns from putting Austin down for a nap.
“Thank you. Thank you.” Melissa shakes her head at me. “At least someone has some sense here.”
I want to storm out, but seeing as I’m still pretty banged up, there’s nothing much I can do except make a snarly face at the two of them. “You can’t keep me locked up here forever.” I pout like a child.
Melissa finally calms enough to sit down next to me, and after a quick look to her husband, we are the only two left in the room.
She softly places her hand on my knee. “Care Bear… tell me what happened.”
So I do. I tell her about Johnny and his stupid fuzzy peaches and his unwillingness to shower without me sitting right outside, holding his towel. I tell her about the hot chocolate mix and the decaffeinated tea. And then I tell her how he manipulated me into spending the night with him.
“Did you sleep with Johnny Braylock?”
“No! No! Absolutely not. Which is why I left.”
“At two in the morning?” She purses her lips.
“I know. Believe me, I know.”
And so I continue on, telling her about the group of guys and their catcalls, and my sarcastic response to them, and how I refused to give up my bag, and then how I woke up this morning in Johnny’s living room.
Before I know it, I’m crying. I don’t know why. I thought I was holding it together quite nicely. But now: I feel empty, scared, and worthless. I can’t make these feelings go away.
“What are you doing?” I look up at her through tear-filled eyes as she fishes through her bag.
“I’m calling the production team to let them know, I have to take the rest of the day off.”
“No, please. Meliss, don’t do that.” I shake my hands at her. “Look, I feel better. I just want to lie down in my own bed, close my eyes, and sleep all day. Can I please do that?”
Melissa sets her phone back in her bag, and gives me a cursory smile. “Of course, Care Bear. If that’s what you want.”
“It is.” I quietly squeak out.
“Keith!” She calls into the next room.
“What’s up?” He peeks his head in from out of the kitchen.
“I’m taking Caroline home. Keep your phone on you, just in case she needs you.”
“I can do that.” He pityingly smiles at me as he adjusts his glasses.
“Thanks, Keith.” I sigh.
“Of course, Care-anything you need.”
The drive back to my apartment is pretty quiet, as suspected. Melissa makes sure to go over every one of my bumps and bruises so that she could confirm that I, in fact, do not need her to take me to the emergency room. She begs me to call both her and Keith if I need anything, even a cup of wonton soup from their favorite Chinese Restaurant.
She helps me inside: luckily, I live on the first floor, because I don’
t really see climbing steps to be in my near future. She then adorably tucks me into bed, setting a large glass of water and a few snacks on my nightstand.
“Book or television?” She coos as she stands above me.
“Television. Find me a crime show marathon.” I sink into my pillows as she fumbles with the remote.
“SVU, CSI, or NCIS?”
“So many acronyms.” I moan.
“Criminal Minds?”
“Yes! That one.”
I thank her and promise yet again that I don’t need anything else. When she finally leaves, I settle into bed and let my mind focus on the story I’m watching rather than the one that keeps replaying itself in my head.
But it’s not easy. I can still hear their voices, I can still see their faces, and I can still feel their touches. The only thing I am seemingly able to think about is the fact that I didn’t do anything about it.
I let them hurt me.
And now I’m scared.
But I’m also very, very tired.
The sound of a fist banging on my door jolts me from my sleep and I’m instantly thrown into a state of panic.
They’re here. They found me. They’ve come to take anything I might have left.
I shake my head awake, reminding myself that it can’t be them. The likelihood of that being the case is just not feasible. Slowly, I peel the covers from atop my body and set my feet on the ground. I feel a little better. The aches aren’t as strong. The pain isn’t as sharp.
I quietly step out of my room and stop in the living room, as I use the arm of my couch to quickly steady myself before moving toward the door. The fist is still banging, but I can only move so fast. I sneak a peek out of the peephole, but the only thing I see is a fist. I feel a chill race up my spine as I prepare to unlock the door.
Should I really do this? It could be anyone. He might want to hurt me.
I bury my face in my hands for a brief second. What is wrong with me? Why can’t I shake this helpless feeling?
There’s only one thing I can do: I have to face my fear. I have to open the door.
But I’m not prepared for the sight I see. There, standing in front of me, covered in blood and riddled with gashes, is Johnny.
“What… what happened to you?”
“I told you not to leave, Caroline.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Johnny, what happened to you?”
He pushes the door open and swings past me, careful not to touch me in the process.
“How did you get here?” He questions as he closes the door behind him.
“I called Keith.”
“Keith? Keith?” He seems angry and agitated.
“What happened to you?” I reach up toward his face.
“Oh, this?” He wipes the back of his sleeve across his face. “This is just makeup.”
“Oh my God. Seriously? You left set like that?” I scold him, as I feel my heart rate start to subside in my chest. I really want to slap him for scaring me like that. “I thought someone attacked you!”
“Me?” He begins to laugh. “Look at me, Caroline. No one is going to attack me.”
It makes sense; no one would attack him. He’s a giant. And yet, him saying that just makes me feel even more vulnerable… more susceptible… more… weak.
“So Keith. Is that your boyfriend?”
“Keith? No. I told you my boyfriend’s name is Nick.”
Nick. Oh my God, Nick. I haven’t told Nick. I didn’t even think to call Nick.
“Do you have your phone on you?” I ignore his stare and hold out my hands.
Johnny pulls his phone from his pocket, and I steal it quickly from his fingers. I call my voicemail.
You have four new messages.
*Beep*
Message one:
Caroline, it’s Nick. Are you ignoring me? Call me back.
*Beep*
Message two:
Caroline, this is ridiculous. Answer my texts or call me back. I don’t need to be chasing you all over the country.
*Beep*
Message three:
Okay, is this really how you want to play this game? Fine. No, I didn’t want to come out to Los Angeles this weekend, but I didn’t make up the meeting. You know how important my job is to me, and now you’re being a child. I would appreciate a little respect from time to time.
*Beep*
Message four:
It’s now been twelve hours. Are you serious? I know you have a tendency to be petty, but this is insane. Should I assume this is it? Is this how you’re breaking up with me after five years? Or what? Did you plan on breaking up with my in person if I came out this weekend? That’s real nice of you: make me fly six hours there to see you, break up with me, and then let me fly six hours right back. That’s real mature, Caroline. Real mature. Oh wait… it actually would have been more mature than what you’re doing now. You know what? Fine. I’m happier without you.
*Beep*
I let the phone slide down my face as I take in everything I just heard. Everything.
Well, this day is pretty freaking awesome. (That was more sarcasm for you.)
My eyes still fixed on the corner of the room, I decide to talk, as Johnny has been staring at me the entire time. “Um. Right. Keith.” I start to stammer. “Keith isn’t my boyfriend. Keith is my best friend’s husband. Nick. Nick is my boyfriend… was my boyfriend…” I shake my head, trying to stop my stare. “Is my… was my… I don’t really know anymore.”
All of a sudden, I feel his hand on my shoulder. It’s warm, it’s encompassing, and…
I freak out.
“Don’t touch me!”
“Whoa. Whoa.” His hands shoot up to the sky. “What just happened?”
“I… I don’t know?” I question even myself. “I’m sorry.”
Johnny doesn’t say anything, only stares at me.
“What?” I bite my lower lip. “What? Dude. Stop staring.”
“Are you okay?” He cautiously steps toward me.
“I’m fine.”
He reaches out again, but I feel that same burst of energy, of fear spin through my body again.
“Don’t touch me!”
This time, he doesn’t retract his hands. “Caroline, I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Right. Right.” I try to calm myself. “I know that.”
“And yet your hands are still covering your face.”
I feel his fingers wrap around mine as he pulls my hands down from their guarding position.
“I’m fine.” I whisper, completely unsure of the real truth.
“You’re not. Can I please take you back to my place?”
“No. No.” I shake my head. “Absolutely not. I want to be here. I’m comfortable here.”
“Then I’ll be back tonight after I’m wrapped for the day.”
“No.” I shake my head again. “I really just want to be alone.”
I can tell he wants to fight me, to tell me that I need someone around to take care of me while I’m playing the role of the invalid, but I don’t allow him the words. I don’t want to be taken care of, I don’t want to be pitied. I want to be able to take care of myself. I want to be seen as someone who doesn’t need someone else to protect her.
But after last night, no one is going to see me like that.
I did it to myself. I allowed myself to be a victim. Now I just need to try my hardest to make everyone see that I really am fine.
Even if I don’t believe it myself.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I am. Thank you for taking care of me this morning, but I got it from here. And thank you for the day off, but I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Caroline, you don’t need to…”
I cut him off. “I do need to, Johnny. I need to be there.”
He understands and lets me have my freedom.
After a quick, kind of awkward goodbye, he nods at me before stepping out of the doorway. But before I can wa
lk back toward the bedroom where Criminal Minds is still playing, I hear a soft knock at the door. The sound startles me at first, causing my stomach to turn, but I remind myself that it’s just Johnny and I have nothing to fear.
I open the door slightly and look up at his face. The sun shines behind him, making him look sort of angelic.
I laugh at the thought.
“Did you forget something?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “Well, yes.”
For the first time, he doesn’t seem confident. It’s kind of refreshing. I wish I were in a better mood so I could make fun of him.
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