him through you. You can’t deny that their disdain isn’t somewhat justified.”
He shouldn’t have spoken. Her face paled, and her brown eyes got bigger as if he slapped her. She fled into his bathroom, slamming the door behind her. He sighed, slumping against the counter while wishing he never rescued or met Jessie Bains.
****
The pressure was churning her gut, a swirling black ball of pain and disgust. He was right. Of course, Will was right. She was an awful person, and always had been. Who did the things she did? She had sex with someone five minutes after their introduction in order to feel better. What kind of woman did that make her? A whore. A slut. A prostitute. She looked into the mirror over the sink and recoiled in disdain. Oh God. She had makeup everywhere, in thick ugly chunks on her eyelids, running in evil streaks down her cheeks. Her hair was a mess from where the soldier held her head back as he slobbered all over her mouth, before shoving himself inside her. Hard. Brutal. And just as she told him to . But it didn’t do a thing to ease the ache, the numbness, or the memories. For a few moments, however, it let her believe she was getting what she deserved.
And Will saw all of this. He heard what she said to her sister. Nauseous bile started to swirl in her throat. She raised the toilet lid just in time to throw up. What did she take at the club? She didn’t know. Someone passed her a white pill and that was good enough to her. Whoever it was could have drugged her and taken her anywhere. What was wrong with her? Didn’t she learn anything? How could she continue to do these things? She was stupid, reckless, and dangerous. She dropped down on her knees before the toilet and leaned her head against the wall.
“ Open the door. I heard you get sick. Open up.”
She jumped at hearing Will’s voice and scrambled to her feet. She flushed the toilet before starting the shower. “I’m fine. Just too much alcohol.”
“Jesus, Jessie. That’s not comforting.”
She took her clothes off, and stood under the still cold water pouring out of the showerhead. It jolted her, but she liked it. It was relaxing somehow. Like cutting was.
When she finished, she toweled off, wrapped it around herself, and ran her hands through her hair. At least, she didn’t look like a whore anymore. Didn’t smell like one anymore either. She opened the door. Will sat on the couch, looking at the TV.
“Do you have something I could wear?”
“Wear?”
“I don’t want to wear those clothes.”
“Now it occurs to you they’re rather a bad choice?”
He could be sarcastic and almost funny at times. It surprised her when he was.
“Please?”
He glanced over at her before getting up. She liked his full height, as well as his broad shoulders bulging under the shirt he wore. He was handsome, especially out of his Army clothes. He had blond hair, warm brown eyes, and a body like most soldiers: sculpted muscles, big arms, broad shoulders, and pronounced abs and butt. She grew up around men like him. Long ago, she started rolling her eyes at the cookie-cutter appearance of the soldiers she knew and slept with. But Will was somehow different. He was like no one she’d ever met before. He was big and safe, and his looks never even entered the equation. Even though he had them, that wasn’t what she liked about him.
He walked back to the door she held, and handed her a t-shirt and sweats. His. She knew she’d be swimming in them, but she sensed he’d throw her on the doorstep if she didn’t put them on. No more games tonight. She got that loud and clear.
She dressed, opened the door, and walked over to where he sat on the couch. His eyes were on her, but he looked back at the evening news, and crossed his arms over his chest.
“No more crap tonight.”
“I know.”
She sat down at the other end of the couch, properly chagrined. He could affect her like no other man did. Quite simply, she was beginning to care
He shouldn’t have spoken. Her face paled, and her brown eyes got bigger as if he slapped her. She fled into his bathroom, slamming the door behind her. He sighed, slumping against the counter while wishing he never rescued or met Jessie Bains.
****
The pressure was churning her gut, a swirling black ball of pain and disgust. He was right. Of course, Will was right. She was an awful person, and always had been. Who did the things she did? She had sex with someone five minutes after their introduction in order to feel better. What kind of woman did that make her? A whore. A slut. A prostitute. She looked into the mirror over the sink and recoiled in disdain. Oh God. She had makeup everywhere, in thick ugly chunks on her eyelids, running in evil streaks down her cheeks. Her hair was a mess from where the soldier held her head back as he slobbered all over her mouth, before shoving himself inside her. Hard. Brutal. And just as she told him to . But it didn’t do a thing to ease the ache, the numbness, or the memories. For a few moments, however, it let her believe she was getting what she deserved.
And Will saw all of this. He heard what she said to her sister. Nauseous bile started to swirl in her throat. She raised the toilet lid just in time to throw up. What did she take at the club? She didn’t know. Someone passed her a white pill and that was good enough to her. Whoever it was could have drugged her and taken her anywhere. What was wrong with her? Didn’t she learn anything? How could she continue to do these things? She was stupid, reckless, and dangerous. She dropped down on her knees before the toilet and leaned her head against the wall.
“ Open the door. I heard you get sick. Open up.”
She jumped at hearing Will’s voice and scrambled to her feet. She flushed the toilet before starting the shower. “I’m fine. Just too much alcohol.”
“Jesus, Jessie. That’s not comforting.”
She took her clothes off, and stood under the still cold water pouring out of the showerhead. It jolted her, but she liked it. It was relaxing somehow. Like cutting was.
When she finished, she toweled off, wrapped it around herself, and ran her hands through her hair. At least, she didn’t look like a whore anymore. Didn’t smell like one anymore either. She opened the door. Will sat on the couch, looking at the TV.
“Do you have something I could wear?”
“Wear?”
“I don’t want to wear those clothes.”
“Now it occurs to you they’re rather a bad choice?”
He could be sarcastic and almost funny at times. It surprised her when he was.
“Please?”
He glanced over at her before getting up. She liked his full height, as well as his broad shoulders bulging under the shirt he wore. He was handsome, especially out of his Army clothes. He had blond hair, warm brown eyes, and a body like most soldiers: sculpted muscles, big arms, broad shoulders, and pronounced abs and butt. She grew up around men like him. Long ago, she started rolling her eyes at the cookie-cutter appearance of the soldiers she knew and slept with. But Will was somehow different. He was like no one she’d ever met before. He was big and safe, and his looks never even entered the equation. Even though he had them, that wasn’t what she liked about him.
He walked back to the door she held, and handed her a t-shirt and sweats. His. She knew she’d be swimming in them, but she sensed he’d throw her on the doorstep if she didn’t put them on. No more games tonight. She got that loud and clear.
She dressed, opened the door, and walked over to where he sat on the couch. His eyes were on her, but he looked back at the evening news, and crossed his arms over his chest.
“No more crap tonight.”
“I know.”
She sat down at the other end of the couch, properly chagrined. He could affect her like no other man did. Quite simply, she was beginning to care
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