JD is lost in his own want, still blissfully unaware of the scar on the back of her neck that will flip his entire world upside down.
And the rain. The streaked makeup running down Blue’s face. The dress, the bare feet… all of it says I need help.
“I’ll help you,” I whisper to the lost people on the screen.
There’s a knock at the door, so I reluctantly pull my eyes from my computer and redirect to the door. “Come in.”
Blue appears, poking her head through the parting doors, like she’s afraid I might bellow at her for interrupting. “I’m sorry—”
“Don’t be.” I smile, and she smiles back. “The delivery is here?”
She nods. “Yes, they’re on their way up now. I’ll tell them to—”
“Come in, Blue. Have a seat on the couch and wait for me.” I get up and walk to the door. She stares at me like I might flip out and strike her. I touch her arm and she lets out a breath. “Sit.” With a little urging, she does. She walks over to the couch and takes a seat, folding her hands in her lap and trying her best not to drop her head and look at the floor. “Wait,” I command.
She nods, and then I leave and walk to the front door and open it to the sound of the arriving elevator. “In my office, please,” I tell the woman. “Other side of the living room and through the sliding doors. Hang them on the suit rack.”
The delivery woman smiles and moves forward to complete her task like a professional, and then exits, accepting the twenty-dollar bill I hand her with a slight nod as I close the door behind her.
Blue is still sitting on the couch, just as she was instructed, when I walk back in. “Your clothes for tonight,” I say, waving a hand at the garment bags hanging from the suit rack. “Go ahead, take them out.”
I sit on the edge of my desk as she walks over to the rack and begins unzipping the first bag. She turns her back to me and that’s when I see the blood.
“Blue,” I say, walking over to her and taking her by the arm. “You’re bleeding.”
She swallows hard and looks at her feet. “I know. I’m sorry. They’re still fresh.”
I lift up the t-shirt she’s wearing and look at the welts down her side. They aren’t bloody, not really. But they are oozing a clear liquid and that mixes with the little bit of blood to make it seep through her shirt. “Why didn’t I notice they were so bad yesterday?”
“I was naked yesterday,” she says, her eyes darting to mine, then dropping again. “Today I’m wearing clothes. It rubs them and makes them worse.”
I lift the shirt over her head and she ducks out of it. “You can’t go to dinner tonight. I won’t make you uncomfortable just so I can take you out.” I reach for my phone and dial JD. It rings through to voice mail so I end the call and text him instead. I was hoping this dinner would draw him out of whatever it is he’s doing, but it looks like he’s won.
“We’ll eat at home,” I tell her as I finish up the message. “We can look at the clothes when you’re feeling better.”
“I’m fine,” she says, placing her small hand on my arm. “Really.”
I squint my eyes at her. “Fine? Please don’t, OK? Your skin is oozing from being beaten. You have bruises all over your ribs. I found you barefoot and wearing a sundress in the rain yesterday morning. You’re not fine.”
“I know what you guys want and I can’t give it to you. I don’t have the answers JD’s looking for and even if I did, I wouldn’t be able to tell him.”
“Why?”
“Because they are bad, bad people, Ark. And I can take what they dish out, but I can’t fight back.”
“Sure you can,” he says in that businesslike tone he’s had all day. Yesterday he seemed like a broody asshole who runs a porn website. Today he seems like a professional who runs a million-dollar corporation.
I don’t get it.
“I get that you’re afraid, but we’re here.”
I just shake my head. “You don’t understand. I don’t know enough to give you the information you need. I only know enough to allow you to alert them to dispose of the evidence before anything can be done.”
“Evidence,” he repeats. “That’s an interesting word.”
I cross my arms over my bare chest. Not out of modesty or embarrassment, but because I have a chill.
Is it sad that I’m more comfortable naked than clothed?
He grabs a blanket off the back of his office couch and drapes it over my shoulders. I wince when the soft fabric touches my welts. “Come here,” he says, taking my arm. He brings me to the couch and sits down, patting his lap. “Lie across my lap, face down.”