“You didn’t know.”
He looked up. “You’re right. I didn’t know. I didn’t know a single thing about you, other than what was common knowledge at school. I should have known better than to jump to conclusions.”
She was as guilty of that as Jack was. Lola felt chagrined of her assumptions of Jack and his character before she’d gotten to know him. She’d been so wrong, so very wrong.
A memory tickled her mind and faded away. “You said something to me, something that wasn’t nice.”
“You could say that.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Lola meant it. She one hundred percent knew it didn’t.
But to Jack it did. He obviously needed to expunge his shame. Lola was quiet; waiting for him to continue.
“I implied you were easy, something about your newest boy standing you up, and not to cry because I was sure you had lots more guys lined up. It wasn’t good. Even as I said the words, I wanted to stop them, but they just kept coming.”
Jack got to his feet and moved to the end of the bed. He stared at her, regret radiating from him. “The look on your face…it hurt me so much it was like I was hurting myself, or my sister. It was horrible. I’d never felt so little, so small. I felt like my dad. I hated it. I don’t ever want to be him. To get off on other’s pain. To hurt people. I’m so sorry, Lola.”
Lola picked at the blanket, her eyes on her hands. “The reason that day is so terrible for me, the reason I blocked it out, wasn’t because of you, Jack. I barely remember that exchange. I was too upset by what happened before that.”
Jack didn’t say anything, so Lola continued, “Bob threatened my friends that day. He told me if I told anyone about the abuse, he’d kill them. He said he’d kill Sebastian. And Rachel. And anyone else I talked to.” Fear reared up inside Lola. Would it ever really go away? Was she ever really going to be safe?
He pulled her into his arms before she’d realized he’d moved and kissed her on the lips, his mouth moving to her jaw, her cheek, her neck; little flutters of warmth against her skin.
“I…” Jack began; stopped.
“What?” she whispered against the ebony silk of his hair.
He crushed her to him. Lola felt the pounding of his heart against her own. “You’re safe, Lola, I promise. I’ll keep you safe. No matter what. I vow it.”
“I know.” And she did.
“Do you still want me to stay?”
Forever. “Yes.”
Another nurse came in to take her vitals. Jack sat in the chair waiting. As soon as she left, he got into the bed and pulled Lola to him, tucking her head under his chin. She fell asleep like that; more peaceful than she had been in months.
***
She never came.
That was Lola’s first thought when she opened her eyes.
The second was, Jack’s gone.
Lola sat in the hospital bed, blinking sleep from her eyes. Streaks of sunlight came through the window and formed shapes on the bedspread covering her legs. An overbearing amount of sorrow repeatedly lapped over her like waves of heartache, unending and paralyzing.
She vaguely remembered waking up throughout the night, terrified and shaking, sure Bob was coming after her. Each time Jack murmured comforting words and held her close. But he was gone and the alarm began to trickle back into her veins.
What if Bob had been let out of jail? What if he was waiting to hurt her more? Or worse, someone she cared about? Lola shoved the troubling thoughts away, telling herself it would be okay; she would be okay.
The doctor came in to check her over. Everything looked good and he told her the release papers would be signed later that morning.
Where will I go?
Her mother had abandoned her. That hurt more than anything Bob had done to her. Tears, ever present lately, flowed from her eyes.
Lola was wiping her eyes when the door opened. Two women walked inside; one short and plump with straight brown hair. She had a no-nonsense look to her that was slightly alarming.
“Hello, Lola, I’m Veronica Smalls and I work for Social Services.” The alarm grew, turned to panic.
The other woman caught and held Lola’s attention. She hesitantly walked over to the bed, eyes trained on Lola. She looked nervous and sad. Lola frowned. She looked familiar.
“This is Blair Murphy.” Murphy? Her heartbeat picked up.
The lady was petite, slender, and had wavy auburn hair; much like Lola’s, but kept shorter. Rectangular eggplant toned glasses fit over a pert nose. She was pretty in a quiet way. The woman was dressed in jeans and a green top and smelled faintly of cinnamon. She had to be in her thirties or forties.
“Hello, Lola,” she said softly, coming to a stop near the window. The sunlight played with her hair, highlighting red and gold tones.