“Please! Don’t do this. Please. I’ll do anything you want.”
“I know you will.” The bed sank down beside her from his weight.
Her throat was closing, no air could get through. She struggled to find words. “Don’t do this. I’ll be good. I promise I’ll be good. I won’t talk to anyone ever again,” Lola babbled, her words frenzied and overlapping.
“You won’t tell anyone,” he said, tone soothing.
She sobbed uncontrollably, cringing when his fleshy hand touched her breast. Lola shook her head from side to side, wrists and ankles burning from her tugging at them. The straps didn’t budge. Bob kneaded the sensitive flesh, squeezing until Lola cried out in pain.
“No,” Lola moaned when his hand went lower. She clenched her thigh muscles, tried to close her legs.
His breathing turned heavy, sounding excited, and Lola prayed for unconsciousness. “Relax, Lola. Enjoy yourself.”
When Bob’s hand touched the inside of her thigh, something snapped inside Lola. She opened her mouth and screamed; short, horrible sounds, over and over. Lola couldn’t stop.
Bob yelled at her, tried to put a hand over her mouth. Lola jerked her head away from him. The cries wouldn’t cease; they sounded inhuman, like an animal. She felt like an animal; a trapped, abused, wounded animal. On and on they went, never-ending; full of pain and despair.
Suddenly Bob was gone. Shouts vaguely registered in Lola’s brain, but her own screams blocked out everything.
Blinding light pierced her eyes and Lola averted her head, trying to disappear within herself. Someone was pulling at her wrists; another person at her legs. Her face was grabbed and Lola tried to bite the hands.
“Lola. Lola, it’s me,” an urgent voice told her.
Her eyes searched for Bob, a low whimper leaving her. Where was he? He was hiding, ready to jump on her, ready to hurt her.
She tugged away from the hands trying to hold her and stumbled into the corner of the bed, the wall at her back, and knelt there, quivering. Lola saw faces, heard voices, but nothing registered. There was a buzzing in her ears.
“What did he do to you?”
“Get a blanket. Cover her up.”
A groan sounded from somewhere in the room. A grunt followed.
“Sebastian, that’s enough.”
“It’s not near enough.”
A face was before her, reaching for her, and Lola lashed out, shoving with all the strength she had left. He kept coming, holding something in his hands. It was a blanket from the bed. Lola vehemently shook her head, slapping at it.
“No!”
“Lola. It’s okay. I’m just going to cover you up.”
Her body tensed and she screamed, “No!”
The blanket was dropped, but he didn’t go away. Gray eyes, thin lips. The unforgettable look on his face. Sebastian. Safe. Overwhelming relief washed over her. Lola’s eyes rolled back in her head and she went limp.
***
A worried face peered down at her. Lola flinched and tried to sit up, but hands gently pushed her down. She was on a cot, in an open ambulance. There was a lot of equipment she couldn’t name surrounding her. Lola felt claustrophobic.
“Relax, Lola. You’re safe now,” Dr. Jones told her, smoothing a hand over her forehead.
Lola looked around, seeing flashing lights and strangers. “Where is he? What’s going on?”
An EMT climbed into the vehicle. He was thin with red hair and brown eyes. His features were dispassionate, as though he saw things like this all the time and had become immune.
“My name is Chris. We need to take some vitals, Miss, and then take you to the hospital to get you checked out.”
Lola stared at him, not really seeing him. Dr. Jones spoke to him and he glanced at Lola before nodding and hopping from the ambulance.
“Where is he?” she asked again, voice trembling.
“He was taken away by the police. He can’t hurt you again,” was Mrs. Jones’ grim reply.
“How did you…?” Lola couldn’t finish the question. What if they hadn’t gotten there when they had? Her body jerked with convulsions and she was cold, so cold.
“We heard your screams. We were still up, talking. Sebastian was worried about you. He wanted to check on you. I told him…I told him not to bother you.” Sebastian’s mom swallowed, looked out into the small crowd gathered in the yard.
“I never should have let you go back to that house, not after seeing what I did today. I called Social Services as soon as you left the clinic. They told me someone would be over soon to talk to you.”
Dr. Jones continued to talk, to herself more than Lola. “It wasn’t soon enough. This never should have happened. How could your mother let this happen?”