Sixty-Nine

Richie edged the door open and stepped into the bedroom, closely followed by Jon.  The bedside lamp cast a soft incandescent glow, illuminating her fitfully sleeping form.  She lay curled on her right side, the long dark waves of her hair partially obscuring the injuries that he knew lurked there. 

Footsteps were muffled by the plush carpeting as he approached the bed and knelt at her side.   Richie very carefully pushed the curtain of hair back toward her ear and revealed her marred features.   

He sucked in a breath as though he’d been punched in the gut.  Mentally knowing that she was hurt hadn’t prepared him for the harsh, visible reality.  This battered creature bore little resemblance to the beauty he’d awoken to hours ago in this very bed.

Hearing the same sharp breath above him, he lifted his eyes to find Jon’s mouth drawn in a harsh flat line.  Richie gave him a slight frown and shook his head.   This wasn’t the time for anger.

“Sunshine?” he coaxed, gently stroking her hair.  “Wake up for me, baby.” 

She quietly snuffled, inhaling until her features contorted into a pained scowl.  Her right eye groggily drifted open, while the left remained swollen shut.  Watching her carefully, he waited for her vision to clear.  It was agonizingly obvious the moment she recognized him. 

Allegra’s face crumpled and the tears began to flow as she struggled to sit.

“Easy, baby, let me help you.”  He slid his big, solid arm under her, maneuvering her body into an upright position.  With a cry of pain, she fell forward on him, her good arm wrapping tightly around his neck.  The tidal wave of emotions she’d been harboring crashed down over them both with a vengeance.

“Richie, I’m…  soooo… sor-ry,” she wept into his shoulder.

His eyes fell tightly shut at both the heart wrenching apology and her visible pain.  Blinking them rapidly, he bit back his own tears and tried to console this beautiful woman, who’d survived an inconsolable act.

“Shhh,” he crooned, cradling her carefully against his chest.  “You’ve done nothing to be sorry for.  This is NOT your fault.”   

 As Richie made soothing noises and cuddled her close, Jon wordlessly perched himself on the edge of the mattress, and placed a comforting hand at her back. 

“It is…” she sobbed brokenly.  “I didn’t… listen.”

“Stop it,” he commanded softly, smoothing her hair as a tear escaped, silently trekking down his cheek.  His mind realized that her tears were healthier than the stoic silence Matt had described, but his heart was having a little trouble with the concept.   It was tearing him apart to see his strong, independent Sunshine reduced to the frail, broken waif before him.  “You can’t do that to yourself.  You’re here and you’re alive.  That’s all that matters.”

He heard Matt sniff from the doorway, and knew that his wasn’t the only heart breaking. 

♫  ♥  ♫  ♥

She leaned into his strength, clinging tightly to keep from drowning in the sea of emotions that were trying to swallow her whole.

Everything had been okay earlier.  Well, not okay, but she had coped.

From the moment Matt arrived, her mind had gone blissfully numb.  She allowed herself to be blindly herded through whatever tests, procedures and rituals that the doctors and police wanted, without saying a word.  Her complete detachment was the only thing that made it possible, because she couldn’t accept the fact that she needed this type of care and attention.  The things they did to her ceased to become real. 

She instead focused on the pain.  Nothing existed outside the pain.  The creaking of her ribs expanding and contracting echoed loudly in her ears.  The tiniest cough sent shooting pains through her arm and out her fingertips.

When the doctor’s words began filtering into her consciousness - “evidence of semen is present in…“ -  she fixated on the stabbing pain at the back of her head.  She counted the heartbeats that were evidenced by each pulsing thud of her skull.  One hundred and seventy-seven.  One hundred and seventy-seven heartbeats until she could remove her feet from the stirrups and cover herself with a set of baggy, unisex hospital scrubs.

It was okay, because it wasn’t her.  She was just there as an unaffected observer.

But when Allegra had awakened to find Richie watching her with tender concern, the reality of it all hit home with the force of an avalanche.  All the things she’d ‘observed’ had happened to HER, and as a result, she wasn’t the same person who’d left him that afternoon.  Another man’s hands had defiled her.  Because she didn’t listen to him.  Because she was arrogant enough to believe that he was being unreasonable, when all he wanted to do was keep her safe.

Will he even still want me?

The tears were wrenched from someplace deep in her soul that she hadn’t known was aching until that very moment.

♫  ♥  ♫  ♥

Jon’s eyes clenched tightly closed, and his fingers curled into a fist.

Oh my God, this is killing me.  I can’t even imagine how she’s surviving this.  I just want to fucking FIX it for her.

“Babydoll, you’ve got to calm down or you’ll hurt yourself,” he said gently. 

He looked up to see that Richie wasn’t able to keep himself separated from it either.  Damp trails shone on his cheeks, and the situation had to be nearly as unbearable for his best friend, not knowing whether or not she was pregnant.  And if she was, whose child was it? 

Feeling his own eyes prick, he had to divert his attention to something other than the unfairness of it all.  There had to be something he could DO. 

“Matt, did they send any kind of sedative from the hospital?”  he asked, concerned that she was going to do further damage to her ribs. 

“No.  She was so quiet, I don’t guess they thought she’d need it.”

“I’m… okay…” Allegra sniffled, scrubbing lightly at the undamaged side of her face.  The concentrated effort she gave to holding back the anguish was noble, but it was too big to be contained yet.  A hiccupping sob had her clutching at Richie’s neck.

Jon wasn’t going to be able to get through this.  Every sob that wracked her body, shredded at his core.  Matt still stood in the door, inconspicuously wiping at his face and snuffling quietly.  Richie was just letting the sadness flow from him in that bohemian way he had. 

Jon wished he could let it go that effortlessly.  It would be easier than what he was doing now.  Everyone thought him a cold-hearted bastard, but he was far from it.  He just needed to feel in control of himself and of whatever situation he found himself in.    That wasn’t happening now.

I feel so fuckin’ HELPLESS.

♫  ♥  ♫  ♥

“Do you remember what happened?”  Richie still held her close as he asked.  They’d all grieved, until the dark cloud hovering over the room had begun to dissipate.  The last sob had been wrung from her body, and she was quiet, her body lax in his arms.   

Allegra dipped her head slightly in assent.

Please don’t make me do this.  I just want to go sleep in your arms and wake up when it’s over.

“You’ve got to tell us, Sunshine.  We’re looking at you and dying a thousand deaths inside trying to imagine how you got this way.  We need it as much as you do, baby.”

As badly as she didn’t want to relive it, she couldn’t keep them in the dark forever.  It wasn’t fair to them, and the night’s events would eventually come to light.  Honestly, she was surprised that the police had let her go without all the details.  Maybe Matt had done some celebrity name dropping to get her out of there.  Whatever he’d done, she was grateful.  This would be difficult enough without dealing with the cold, callous attitudes of police officers whose jobs had jaded them to the human side of crime.   Tessa’s situation had brought that stark truth home. 

“Okay,” she whispered, inching back so that she could sit upright under her own power.  “Sit next to me?”

Once she was suitably flanked by both Richie and Jon, she motioned to Matt, who still stood in the doorway.  “Matty, come sit.”  She gestured for him to bring a chair next to the bed, eyes affixed to his tall frame as he did so.  Positioning it before the trio on the bed, he settled himself stiffly on the seat cushion, while Allegra watched him intently with one shining blue eye.

“Thank you.”  She reached her hand out to squeeze his forearm as she clutched tightly at her ribs with the other.  “Thank you… for… being there when I… needed you.”

He was obviously uneasy with her gratitude and grumbled, “What kind of asshole would I be to leave you there?”

All the instances in which she’d balked at the protective behavior of her family came back to haunt her - particularly the security tape argument with Jon in Seattle.  She was an ungrateful wretch, who would benefit from a bit of appreciation for those who loved her.  She smiled to herself remorsefully. 

“What time did you leave the Soul office?” Jon asked, effectively intruding upon her bout of self-degradation.  

The emotions were coming too easily now, and she struggled to rise above them.  They would only make it more difficult to get through this.  She disciplined her mind back to that detached place where she’d spent most of her evening.

“I was in... the elevator… when I sent the text… to Richie.”  Allegra leaned into Richie’s strength, the wrapping around her ribs not providing enough support.  Her inability to take a draw breath was going to make this a slow process, and she concentrated on saying as much as she could with each shallow breath.  “Sandra told me the doorman would get… a taxi, but he wasn’t there… when I got to the lobby.  There was just a man… reading the paper.”

The images flashed vividly through her mind, replaying like a movie in slow motion.  She could almost feel Felix’s presence behind her.  Focusing on the familiar smell and feel of the men around her, she deliberately stepped away from that pitfall.

They were patient, listening without interruption to her halting recount.  It took far more time than she would’ve liked, but eventually, she had told them everything that happened in the little room.  Up to, and including, the last bounce of her head on the linoleum. 

That is, everything but the man’s identity.

“That’s all… I remember,” she breathed, sagging limp and drained against the one who’d held her throughout, feeling him kiss the crown of her head again.  Each time the memories became overwhelming and it got harder to continue, Richie gave her a soft touch, a kiss, a murmur of encouragement.  He carried her through.

Her eyes welled in appreciation, and she placed a soft, open palm over his chest.

Maybe he CAN still love me.

“You don’t remember the actual…”  Jon couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“No.  I wasn’t even sure it… had happened until the… hospital.”

Jon brushed her wounded cheek with a feather light touch of his thumb.  “I’m so proud of the way you fought that bastard.  I know you hurt like hell right now, but you won’t ever have to second guess yourself later.  You didn’t ALLOW this to happen.  You have the comfort of knowing you did everything in your power to stop it.”

Allegra hadn’t thought of that - not that she’d had the chance to go there yet – but she was thankful that his positive words had come before she could get mired in the deafening coulda, shoulda, wouldas.  She vowed to make the sentiment stick in her mind.

“You got a good look at this guy, right?” Jon switched from tender to tenacious, having a need to tie up all the loose ends.  “Enough to describe him to the police?  Because we’re going to have to talk to them in the morning.” 

Her chin fell to her chest, and she closed her eyes.  The answer was a simple one, but she hesitated to incite their anger.  She was so tired…

Richie touched her chin with his fingertips.  “Baby?  Do you remember what he looked like?”

She sluggishly lifted her face with the tiniest sigh of resignation.  “Yes.”  It was the last piece of the puzzle for them, and she could allow herself to rest after putting it in place. “It was the guy… from Seattle.  Felix.”