Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!
“Good morning, sleepy head,” Jack said cheerfully. The mattress dipped beneath him as he sat on the edge of my bed. “Are you alright?”
I wanted to cry, and scream that nothing was okay, and to just cuddle up to him. Instead, I did my best to clear my throat before speaking, “I went out with a bunch of girlfriends last night. Went to a club and... I drank too much. Hangover.”
“Is that right?” I could hear his smile. “I suppose that means you’re not in the mood for interviewing me?”
“Sorry... Could we postpone it just a bit please?” I let out a breath. “I’ll let you know when I feel better and we can meet up at that point.”
He stayed silent for a few seconds. “Why won’t you look at me?” he asked in a quiet tone that sent a shiver down my spine. He knew something was wrong, but I didn’t want to admit anything to him. I was so ashamed.
“I’m... I have a splitting headache, and I didn’t take off my makeup last night, so my face is a mess. Please. Just go. I need to sleep before my head splits open.” I wasn’t entirely lying; I couldn’t imagine what my pillow and blankets looked like since I hadn’t removed my makeup when I’d gotten back last night.
“Alright. I’ll let you get some rest,” he said. The mattress straightened as he got to his feet. “Call me when you’re feeling better.”
“I will. Thanks.” I wanted to reach out to him, beg him not to leave me alone with the memories of getting beaten. The pain had been... I thought I’d died a few times. That my ribs had punctured my lungs.
The door closed, and the sound of the locks seemed to resonate inside my tiny apartment. I laid there, too sore to move, but I knew I had to get up eventually. Take a shower. Assess the damage. How long would it take to heal? I’d have to avoid Jack until then.
I trudged to the washroom and stripped down naked. Bruises and cuts covered most of what I could see of myself in the mirror, including fingermarks on my arm where Lee had dragged me from the main club to the boss’s room. I’d been such an idiot to go back there. And what happened to Elsie and the other women? Had they just assumed I’d ditched them and gone home without a word? My face was smudged with makeup and blood with my lip split at the bottom. No wonder it throbbed so much.
As gently as I could, I cleaned my face, wincing every few seconds as I moved the wrong way; it was as though my whole body had gone through a grinder. I was tempted to take a shower, but the thought of water hitting my sensitive skin sent shudders through me, and I decided against it. Instead, I just slipped on my bath robe and left the bathroom. I just needed some more sleep, and I’d be okay in no time.
I gasped when I locked eyes with Jack. His expression was unreadable as he approached me; but fury danced in his eyes. He raised his hand as though to touch me but froze as though unsure if it would hurt me or not.
“Do you need to go to the hospital?” he asked in a quiet tone. He cupped the back of my head, his gaze searching mine.
“No, they just...beat me up.” I wanted to make sure he knew nothing else had happened; something I knew I was extremely lucky about. “I’ll be fine.”
He pulled me in for a gentle hug. “They,” he repeated in a growl. “I want names, Jill.”
“Please leave it alone,” I whispered against his chest as tears flooded my eyes. I didn’t want him doing anything that could get him killed or caught by the police. It wasn’t that I didn’t think those men deserved to die, but I just wasn’t worth the trouble.
“Why did this happen?” he asked; there was no judgment in his tone, and so I was comfortable enough to explain the situation.
He remained quiet for a few minutes, just holding me against him; gently as though he was afraid of breaking me. “Let’s get you to bed.” He led me to the room separator and helped me under the sheets. I turned my pillow to the other side, disgusted with how filthy it had gotten from before. That’s what I got for not washing my face until then.
“Do you have an ice pack?” he asked as he tucked me in.
“No, but I have some frozen veggies I could use.”
He shook his head. “You’ll want something that’s easier to hold to your face. Tell you what... I’ll go to the pharmacy and get you some supplies. How does that sound?”
“I can’t ask you to buy me?”
“You are worth every dollar I’d be spending and more.” When I opened my mouth to argue more, he raised his finger for silence. “I won’t hear another word about it. I’ll be right back.”
He got to his feet, and I closed my eyes, letting myself sink into my mattress; it was suddenly the softest thing in the world. Like fluffy clouds. The front door closed with a click followed by the sounds of the locks, and my pulse slowed. I was alone again. I hadn’t wanted Jack to see me like this, but he’d known something was wrong. I guess telling him I was too hungover to ask him questions was pretty suspicious on my part; I could’ve been on fire and wouldn’t pass on the opportunity.
I reached out toward my nightstand, and frowned when I couldn’t find my phone. My body ached with every little movement, but I turned to my side, trying to find where I’d put it, but it wasn’t there.
“Where...” Had I left it somewhere else after I’d gotten back home last night? The trek was still fresh in my mind, limping in the freezing cold.
I got out of bed, my legs trembling beneath me as I trudged into the living area of my apartment. It was cool, and I shivered as I spotted my smartphone on my kitchen table. With a small shake of my head, I went to it, convinced I was losing my mind; this wasn’t a place I usually put it. I must’ve really been out of it.
Something in the back of my mind rang with alarm bells, and I pressed the button to wake it up from sleep mode. After tapping in my PIN, my pulse sped at what was last on the screen. The device’s map showing where my phone had last pinged. It showed the path I’d taken from the nightclub. My stomach churned as I stared toward the door; Jack had gone there to kill them. I had no doubt about that.
As quickly as my body could manage, I rushed to get changed since I’d be damned if I went out in nothing but a bath robe. Still, I wasn’t dressing to impress as I slipped on a pair of sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. I had to stop him; I didn’t want him getting caught. He might’ve had no issues with murdering one person at a time, but there were half a dozen men in there. Maybe more.
