Chapter 29

“Billie?”  Richie looked at her in shock - her hair tousled and her face pale, streaked with tears.  “Billie, what’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing.”  She lied.  Possibly the hardest lie she’d ever told, considering that even standing upright felt like it was tearing her apart.  She could feel wetness trickling down her thighs, and she didn’t know if it was just Nick’s semen leaving her body - which could only be a blessing - or if she was still bleeding.

 

“Nothing?”  Richie repeated.  There was clearly something very wrong here, but he just wasn’t sure how to raise the subject.  Despite their recent dinner, and their long chat, they were practically strangers.  Perhaps he should just stay out of whatever it was.

 

“No.  What did you want?”  Billie frowned suddenly.  “How did you know which room I was in?”

 

“Uh, I saw your room number that day we met.”  He shrugged with a tiny smile.  “It’s my birthday - well, if you write it like they do in the UK, so it stuck in my head.”

 

Billie glanced at the door, at the brass numbers ‘one one zero seven’.  July eleventh, she realised.

 

“You sure everything’s okay?”  Richie asked.  “You said you needed to make some calls - is everything okay at home?”  A minor brainwave.  “I tried your cell, but it was busy.”

 

“I must’ve been using it.”  Billie said lamely. 

 

“Thought you might say that.”  Richie pulled the phone from his pocket, holding it in front of her, his eyes concerned.  “Care to try again?”

 

“I……..”  Billie’s eyes rolled back as pain ripped through her lower body, and she staggered, grabbing for the edge of the door, but using her left hand, gasping in pain as she moved her arm carelessly fast.

 

“What the……?”  Richie stepped into the room, his hands gripping Billie’s waist to hold her upright.

 

Instinctively, she grabbed onto his broad shoulder with her right hand, her left arm hanging loose in pain, and her fingers dug into the muscle of his shoulder as she fought the pain, feeling her knees buckling with it.

 

“Jesus, Billie!”  Richie took one hand off her for a second, slamming the door behind him.

 

She started to fall, couldn’t stay on her feet as pain tore through her again, and Richie dipped low, hooking his arm under her knees, his other shifting to her shoulders as he lifted her in his arms.  As his gaze flicked downward, he saw the blood, a bright stain on the wood floor, and his heart accelerated in panic.

 

“Shhh.”  He whispered as she moaned pitifully, her body tense in his arms, her eyes clenched shut.  “Hush, darlin’……..let’s get you through to the bed.”

 

“Noooo……..”  Billie whimpered, but he was already moving, his long stride eating up the distance so that they were in the bedroom before she’d finished her protest.

 

“Jesus!”  Richie snapped as he saw the bloodstain on the bed, too, but there was nowhere else he could put her, and he laid her carefully onto the stained mattress.  “Billie, what’s wrong?!”

 

A gasp of pain was his only answer, Billie rolling onto her side, drawing her legs up, Richie turning pale as he saw the back of her robe soaked with blood, and he grabbed for his phone.

 

“Billie, you need a doctor………a hospital……”

 

“No!”  Her hand shot out, grabbing his wrist.  “Please, Richie…….you can’t………”

 

“Billie, you’re bleeding!  You’re bleeding a lot.  I’m no doctor, but you need to be in an ER.  Now.”

 

“Richie, I can’t!  Everyone will find out!”  Her eyes filled with tears.  “Please!”

 

“I’m not promising anything.”  He pulled the cover over her.  He’d sit for a minute, but despite what he’d just said he was getting her to an emergency room.  “What happened, Billie?  The truth.  Give me that at least.”

 

“I……”  She buried her face in the pillow, shaking her head, but Richie laid a gentle hand on her shoulder.

 

“Tell me.”  He said, softly but firmly.  “Tell me, Billie.”

 

Tears were streaking her face again as she looked at him, letting the emotional pain, the shame, of talking about it distract her from the searing pain ‘down there’.

 

“I……somebody else knows, Richie.  About Jay.”  She clenched her eyes shut again, hating herself for how stupid she’d been, feeling Richie’s gentle touch on her shoulder, his hand stroking soothingly.  “He found out - doesn’t matter how - and he……he agreed to keep quiet about it.”

 

“And what did he want in return?”  Richie asked.  Like he couldn’t figure that one out.

 

“Me.”  Billie whispered, forcing herself to look at him.  Refusing to let herself be ashamed of what had been done to her.  “Me, to do whatever he wanted.  And I let him.”  Her tears spilled over again, her eyes begging Richie for understanding.  “One time, Richie.  Just one time, I let him use me……..but tonight I said no.  Tonight I told him to get the fuck out.”

 

“He didn’t like that, huh?”  Richie brushed a thumb over her cheek, wiping tears.

 

“No.  He……..”  Cowboy up, she told herself.  “He hit me…….beat me……..raped me……  He…..he…..oh, God……..  He……..”

 

She was shaking now, and Richie guessed what she was trying to say.  Or at least he thought he did.  The obvious pain, the bleeding told it’s own tale of a brutally violent rape, and he hushed her tenderly.

 

“Shhh………you don’t need to say it, Billie.  I get it.”

 

“No!”  She shook her head fiercely.  “No!  He……..”  Her voice steadied fractionally.  “He….he held me down……and he…..he…….”  Even the word made her feel nauseous, and she searched for another word, unable to bring herself to say ‘buggered’.  “He sodomised me…… motherfucker…….he……”

 

He’d never know how he did it, but Richie crushed down the horror and disgust of what she’d just said.  Refused to allow himself to think of it, really, because if he did he knew he’d fall into rage, demanding to know who had done this to her then storming out to rip the fucker’s nuts off with his bare hands.  And right now Billie needed support and comfort, not that.  He squeezed his eyes shut as he fought for control, tears stinging his eyes at the thought of a man - if you could call someone who did that a ‘man’ - doing to that to any woman.  To anyone.

 

“Shhhhh.”  Richie gathered her carefully into his arms, trying not to move her too much, holding her tightly.  Then a thought occurred.  “Billie, why did you let him……?  To protect Jay?  I know Jay might be pissed that you never told him before, but………..  Oh sweet Jesus!  You did that - you let him do that - to protect Jon?!”

 

She was silent in his arms, then a tiny nod against his body.

 

“Billie, why?  You don’t owe Jon anything!  Certainly nothing like this!”

 

“I wanted to give him time to explain to his family.  It’s not their fault.  His kids can’t find out from the newspapers, Richie.  His wife………”  Her voice faded away.

 

“Jesus!”  Richie whispered again.  Billie obviously bore some kind of love for Jon, but to allow herself to be abused this way, to protect him and his family?  Even Richie’s standards of friendship - brotherhood - found that almost unbelievable.

 

“You do need a doctor, though, darlin’.”  He said gently, and Billie made no response, silent in his arms.

 

Too silent, Richie realised.

 

“Billie?”

 

No response, and he pulled back, seeing her face chalk-white.  Probably because a fair proportion of her blood was on the bed.

 

“Shit!”  Still holding her, Richie grabbed the bedside phone, dialling reception.

 

“Good evening, front desk.  This is Daniel, may I help you?”

 

“Yeah.”  Richie’s voice was rough with fear.  “Daniel, this is room eleven oh seven.  Ms Kelsall’s room.”  He swallowed hard, trying to keep her confidence but needing the urgency to be understood.  “I came to visit her and she’s been assaulted.”

 

“Here in the hotel?”  Daniel’s voice was stunned.

 

“Yes.  In her room.  Get an ambulance.  Now!”

 

“Yes sir!”  A fractional hesitation.  “We have a resident doctor here.  I’ll send him up, too.”

 

“Good.”  Richie paused.  “We need the ambulance like yesterday, Daniel.”

 

There was no reply, because Daniel had already hung up the phone to dial for help.

 

Carefully, Richie laid Billie on her side, even his limited knowledge of first aid telling him she was safer on her side than on her back.  He hesitated, but something in him had to know how bad this was, and he cautiously untied her robe, opening the soft fabric to see.

 

“Sweet fuck.”  He muttered as a brief glance showed him the dark bruising over most of her torso.  What scared him more was the blood that coated her thighs, sticking the robe to her legs as she lay unconscious.  “Where’s that fucking doctor?”

 

With perfect timing, someone knocked at the door, and Richie quickly closed her robe, pulling the cover over her and heading to the door to let the doctor in.  As he reached for the door handle, he saw the sleeve of his shirt soaked with blood, from when he’d lifted her, and sickness rose in his throat as the severity of her injuries sank in.