Authors: Jayna Vixen
A few hours later, Dax was rather shocked at the tiny little thing’s unexpected constitution.
She’s stronger than she looks!
The girl hadn’t puked, but she had been whimpering something awful, and shaking badly. Her eyes had opened a few times, but it didn’t seem like she saw him. He forced sips of water down her throat and wondered why he felt so responsible for the stranger he had found hiding in the back of his van. He told himself it was because he wanted answers, but he knew he was lying to himself. Something drew him to this girl, and he had felt it the very first time he saw her. By late afternoon, his patient had gone still and a little color had returned to her cheeks. He left her resting somewhat comfortably and ordered a pizza.
His fridge was usually empty, save for beer and orange juice, but he refilled his houseguest’s water cup. Even though he had a steady girlfriend, Dax lived like a bachelor. It wasn’t like Trish was here often; she had rotations through different hospitals and tests to study for. Their daily grinds were so different. He liked that about Trish; she was book smart. He didn’t know any other girls that were intelligent like Trish, and hot to boot. Dax turned back to the room and stopped short. His patient was sitting up in the bed and staring at him, a terrified and disoriented expression on her bruised face.
Chapter Three
It’s him!
Her heart was pounding so loud that Rhee worried the blond giant could hear it from the doorway. She recognized the man, but try as she might, she couldn’t recall from where. Had he kidnapped her? Hurt her? Did he know where Mickey was?
Oh God, Mickey!
Tears of confusion leaked from her eyes as the man advanced into the room. He moved with an easy grace that reminded Rhee of a large, predatory feline.
“Wh-who are you? What do you want?” she rasped, unable to keep the fear from her voice. He came nearer and then he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Rhiannon grasped the covers as though they would somehow shield her from anything he might do to her.
“Feeling better?” Dax asked casually. He recognized the terror in the girl’s eyes and moved slowly into the room. He sat with his body turned away from her, sensing that she would interpret his posture as non-threatening.
“Feeling?” Her own voice sounded distant, hollow. Rhee had been too disoriented to fully focus on how she felt but now that her attention went to her physical state, she groaned as the depth of her pain set in. Her shoulder felt like someone had whacked it with a steel bat.
“These will help,” the stranger said, holding out two little white pills.
She looked at him, shocked. “I don’t do drugs!”
Dax smiled at her indignant tone. “My girlfriend is a doctor. She left these for you, said they would take the pain out of your shoulder.” He mentioned his girlfriend on purpose, hoping his relationship status would take some of the suspicion and anxiety from the girl’s wide, scared eyes.
Rhiannon peered at the man suspiciously. Her tongue felt like it was twice its normal thickness. She swallowed hard. How did he know about her shoulder? She took stock of herself hazily and realized that she was in a stranger’s bed in her underwear. He had mentioned a girlfriend.
He dates a doctor?
Not likely!
She could almost hear her own derisive snort. There was also an odd feeling akin to jealousy that she wasn’t sure how to process. Why would she be jealous that this man had a girlfriend? Unless…
Dear God, did I sleep with him?!
Dax couldn’t quite read the expression in her eyes, but the accusatory undertone that laced her next words was impossible to misinterpret.
“Where are my clothes?” Rhiannon tried to sound imperious, unaware that her voice was actually high and afraid. She didn’t want this man to know that she had no recollection of her involvement with him, or how she had come to be here. If she had given herself to this guy, she must have been drunk!
Dax lifted an eyebrow. “Your shirt was, er, pretty much ruined. I tossed it. Your jeans are in my washer, they were pretty dirty.” He cleared his throat. Her jeans had been covered in blood. He hadn’t been sure, but he knew that at least some of it was her own, as evidenced by her crusted nose and swollen lip.
Rhee took a shallow breath. Her clothes were “ruined” and “dirty.” What the hell did that mean?! Her eyes darted behind him, to the door. She conjured a fleeting image of herself racing past him, in her underwear.
Dax caught her glance and sighed. “Look. I’m not sure how much you remember,” he started. His patient gazed at him, her green eyes wide and fearful. Suddenly, he realized he didn’t even know her name.
“I’m Dax,” he said, holding his hand out to her. He wasn’t sure why he was treating their introduction so formally, but he felt instinctively that it might comfort her.
Rhee’s reaction was dictated by etiquette. She accepted his hand, albeit hesitantly. “I-I’m Rhiannon. Rhee for short.” Rhiannon blushed as he took her hand. His hand was warm and strong, and he squeezed her small, cold fingers reassuringly. When he released her hand, she pulled it back quickly to her lap, her state of undress becoming more and more uncomfortable.
“Well, Rhee. I’m gonna tell you what I know, and then you can tell me what you know, okay?”
Rhee flushed again as he spoke the short, familiar version of her name. She looked down quickly so that he wouldn’t see her reaction. It was odd that this man seemed so familiar when they had clearly just met. After all, they were only just now learning each other’s names. She began to shake again as Dax relayed the events that led up to her being here, in his guest bedroom. Rhee understood why the man hadn’t called the cops. He wasn’t exactly the law-abiding type. Then again, he didn’t seem evil either. Rhee thanked him softly for not dumping her at the emergency room.
Student health insurance wouldn’t cover this kind of expense!
Something nagged at the corner of her mind, something that she needed to know.
“The bar-the one you were parked outside of when I-I got into your vehicle-what was it called?” she whispered.
“
Tu Madre
.” Rhee turned so pale Dax thought she might pass out. Instead, she scrambled for the wastebasket next to the bed and retched. She heaved over and over, and her one-handed grip on the wicker basket faltered. He moved behind her and held her as the meager contents of her stomach came up.
Rhee opened her eyes to find Dax kneeling on the bed behind her. His right arm was around her waist, preventing her from falling straight into the can that now held her bile. His left hand held the basket to her mouth as she took several gasping breaths of air. As she registered the man’s hands on her, she started to struggle weakly and he released her immediately.
“Don’t touch me!” she hissed, staring at his hands with abject terror.
Dax put his hands up in a placating gesture. “Just trying to help,” he said calmly.
“I don’t need your help!”
“I guess you remember? What happened in there? Want to talk about it?”
Talk about it?
With him?!
She shook her head. The fleeting images that flew through her brain made her feel sick. Rhee could see a tattoo snaking up Dax’s large bicep. She remembered his bike. This man was part of a motorcycle crew himself. For all she knew, he did awful things to women all the time. He could be a violent criminal! Rhee’s hands were shaking, and her teeth were chattering as her body pushed the poison out of her system. Dax had said she had been “dosed,” whatever that meant. She stared vacantly at the small bruise and puncture wound in her right arm. What had they done to her?
“Hey, I know we just met, sort of. But I’m not going to hurt you, okay? Rhee? You’re just going to have to trust me until you’re feeling better.”
Rhee was exhausted suddenly. Her tear-filled eyes came up to meet his and she was surprised by the look of genuine concern reflected there. She knew she had to trust this man, for now. There was no one she could think of to contact. Not even the police would take her calls at this point, thanks to the numerous unheeded requests she had logged with them. Rhee nodded, her vision going a little gray at the periphery. Dax came closer and she flinched as he settled her back into the pillows and tucked the blankets in over her. She regarded him warily, willing herself to stay awake even as she faded into oblivion.
When Rhee woke again, images from
Tu Madre
assaulted her and the memories made her queasy. She spent several minutes willing herself not to vomit. While her body still felt weak and shaky, her brain seemed to be working a bit better, at least. Rhee sat for a few minutes listening intently, but she heard nothing. The clock on the bedside table read five o’clock in the morning. Maybe the guy, Dax, was asleep. Maybe he wasn’t even here.
I want to go home.
I should sneak out of here!
Her shoulder throbbed painfully but she forced herself into the bathroom to relieve herself. Rhee tried to avoid what she saw in the mirror but she found herself transfixed by the carnage that her body had become. She was bruised and marked up everywhere.
Rhee peered closer at a red, crescent-shaped mark above her right breast and retched when she recognized the imprint of a mouth. Suddenly she felt so dirty. Glancing at the open bedroom door and hearing nothing, she flew into action, ignoring her shoulder’s searing protests. Fueled by nothing but the burning desire to wash the touch of those men off of her battered body, Rhee locked the bathroom door, and yanked off her grimy underwear with her right hand. She turned the shower on and stepped into the hot spray. It wasn’t hot enough. She turned the knob as far as it could go, welcoming the burn of the water.
She stood there for a long time, and then sank to the floor cradling her injured shoulder. Her sobs became great, wracking gasps that made it difficult to breathe as she huddled on the shower floor. At some point, Rhee realized she was shaking again. She wasn’t sure how long she had been huddled there on the tile floor, but the water had become lukewarm, then cold. Shivering slightly, Rhee wrapped herself in a large green towel that hung on the wall. She had been so intent upon washing any trace of those men off of her body that she hadn’t thought about her lack of clothes.
She stared at the bathroom door for several minutes, trying to figure out what to do. She was naked, in a stranger’s house, with no clothing, money, or car. Rhee chewed on her lower lip nervously, as a crushing fatigue began to overtake her limbs. With shaking fingers, she turned the doorknob, half expecting to find the man, Dax, waiting on the other side. Peering cautiously into the room, Rhee was relieved to find it empty. She shot a glance at the door and discovered that it had been pulled shut.
Taking a deep breath, Rhee headed back to the bed. She would wrap the sheet around her body, toga-style, until she figured out what to do. Although it was only a few steps from the bathroom door, the bed seemed so far away. Rhee sat down heavily, and found a small pile of clothing that had been placed on the pillow. Gratefully, she reached for the baggy gray sweats. Pulling them on proved to be a hell of a challenge. Her left arm didn’t seem to be functioning at all. Gasping at the effort, Rhee managed to get her legs into the pants and pull them up using her good arm. Then, she collapsed, exhausted. She stared at the oversized sweatshirt longingly, wanting nothing more than to pull it on and hide inside it.
There was a soft knock at the door, and Rhee jerked fearfully.
“Who-who is it?” she asked hoarsely, knowing full well that the large, intimidating blond man stood just outside the room, and that he could burst in at any moment. Rhee grabbed the towel, holding it to her bare breasts anxiously.
Dax had listened to the girl crying piteously in the shower for at least twenty minutes, and he had no idea what he was supposed to do. He was sure that busting into the bathroom would send the traumatized girl into hysterics. Then, the water ran for so long, he worried that Rhee had passed out in there. He paced, wondering if he should break the door down. He was relieved when the water went off and he could hear Rhee shuffling about, even though her movements were punctuated by soft groans and whimpers.
Before she came out, Dax left an old pair of Trish’s sweats on the bed for his new acquaintance, along with one of his hoodies. It was so large, it would probably come to her knees, but he didn’t have anything else for her to put on, not even underwear. For some reason, the thought of the young girl naked beneath his sweatshirt was oddly arousing, and Dax fought to keep his erection down. He didn’t want to terrify his houseguest any more than she already was. Dax stood outside the door and listened to Rhee wrestle with the clothing. When she went still and quiet, he knocked.
“Are you decent?” Dax asked.
The reply was a frustrated sob.
“Look, I know you’re exhausted, Rhee. I saw your shoulder and I’m sure it hurts. Let me help you. I’m coming in. Okay?”
He waited a few tense moments before hearing her tentative response. “Okay.”
Dax found his patient huddled in the bed, clutching the damp towel to her chest.
She eyed him warily.
“Wow, you got the pants on? From the look of that shoulder, I’m surprised. Didn’t that hurt?” he rambled as he approached her and retrieved the sweatshirt. She flinched at his proximity, but Dax ignored it.
“I’m just going to get this over your head, okay? You can do the rest, unless you need more help.” Dax punctuated his words by deftly slipping the sweatshirt over the trembling girl, who had a death grip on his guest towel.
Rhee, grateful for the dark, thick fabric, immediately thrust her good arm into the oversized sleeve. Her bad arm just wouldn’t move anymore without a fight. She looked up to find Dax watching her expectantly.
“I-um, my other arm won’t move,” she said weakly, her eyes downcast. The only thing Rhee hated more than being helpless was asking for help, especially from a virtual stranger.
The last thing I want is for another man to touch me!