Chapter 70

Richie woke in the half-dark living room, squinting across to the other couch, frowning slightly. Billie had been there, right? He’d not dreamed her getting out of hospital? As his brain cleared, though, he knew she had been there - was there - and the cover that was pushed to one end of the empty couch confirmed it. So where the hell was she?

“Billie?” He murmured, dropping his feet to the floor and sitting upright again.

Before he could speak again - before his confusion deepened toward worry - Richie heard the sound of a flushing toilet, and he relaxed back against the cushions. He’d not gotten to showing her around his apartment, but she was a lady of initiative, so she’d left him to sleep while she did her own searching for ‘the necessary’.

Reaching out, he flipped the switch on the lamp closest to him, a soft, warm light brightening the room. He heard Billie’s tiptoed approach, then her footsteps became more normal as she saw the glow of the light and realised he was awake.

“I hope you don’t mind.” She said as she walked around the back of the couch. “I didn’t want to disturb you…..but I really needed to pee!”

“S’okay.” He grinned. “Feel better after your nap?”

“Uh huh.” She blushed slightly, sitting down on the couch again. “Sorry - I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“I told you already, it’s fine darlin’. Hell, you obviously needed it. Guess I did, too. You want coffee or somethin’?”

“Coffee’d be good.”

Levering his long frame up off the couch, Richie headed to the kitchen, turning at a soft sound to find Billie following him. He grabbed a fresh mug from the cupboard for her, refilling his own before turning again.

“Cream? Sugar?”

“Just cream. Actually, milk if you have it.”

“Yep.”

Not standing on ceremony, Richie brought a carton out of the fridge, laying it on the counter next to Billie’s mug, leaving her to doctor the coffee to her own taste. For himself, he added a few spoons of sugar and a splash of cream, stirring it all into the coffee before taking a satisfying gulp.

“So you take a little coffee with your sugar, huh?” Billie teased, and Richie laughed, not a polite half-chuckle, but a proper laugh, filled with mischief and enjoyment.

“Yeah I do.” His eyes sparkled as he laughed again, grinning at her until he felt he needed to explain. “I love that you don’t see me as anything but a guy.”

“You mean you’re not a guy?” But she knew what he meant.

“Oh, trust me, I’m alllll guy!” Richie was still chuckling. “But I mean that you - even though you’ve said you’re a fan of the band - don’t pussyfoot around and treat me like a fuckin’ rockstar. I like that.”

Now Billie joined him in laughter. “I guess, after the initial shock of meeting you - and that was more to do with the circumstances than with who you are - I just don’t impress easily. Wait. That came out wrong.”

“No, no, you don’t find me impressive. I get it.” He pretended to pout, and Billie snorted.

“Aw, did I hurt your feewings?”

Richie nodded emphatically, and Billie beckoned him closer, Richie leaning across the counter so she could bring her lips close to his ear.

“Tough!” She giggled into his ear. “Takes more than a name to impress me, darlin’.”

As they both moved back, through some kind of chance or luck or mistake they each turned slightly, their lips brushing gently together in not-quite-a-kiss, Billie’s eyes widening at the touch. Neither of them made anything of it, though, just turning their attention back to their coffee, then their eyes met again and they both smiled silently.


They were back on the couches, talking quietly, when Richie’s cellphone rang again, and he frowned as he looked at the unfamiliar number, then shrugged and answered it anyway.

“Hello?”

“Uh, Mr Sambora?” Richie didn’t reply, and after a moment the caller seemed to understand why. “It’s Detective Kellogg.”

“Oh, hi Detective.” Richie smiled across at Billie. “What can I do for you?”

“Oh, nothing really. I just wanted to let you know that we’ve charged………our suspect…….with all the relevant crimes against Ms Kelsall.”

“And what about the other girl?” Richie asked, realising from the echoing quality of the call that the detective was in a stairwell, probably hiding out from anyone hearing her discuss the case with him.

“She brought charges, too. Lesser charges, I’m glad to say, but she still said she’ll stand up in court and say what he did.”

“Thank God for that. I’ll tell Billie.” A hesitation. “If that’s allowed?”

Leaning against the scuffed brick of the fire escape stair, the woman shrugged. “It isn’t really, but then neither is this call, so if you think it’ll help her, go ahead.”

“Okay, I will.” Glancing at Billie, Richie saw the curiousity on her face. “Where is he now?”

“Now? Oh, now he’s where he’ll stay until the trial, unless his wife posts his bond. Which seems doubtful since I hear she’s filing for divorce. He’s locked up, Mr Sambora. Tell Billie that. Tell her he can’t hurt her again.”

“I wouldn’t let him.” Richie murmured, flushing as he realised what he’d said.

He said goodbye to the cop and closed his phone, looking over at Billie until she leaned forward, gesturing for him to speak.

“C’mon, Richie - don’t make me beat it out of you! That was about Fabian, right?”

“Yes, it was.” He grinned. “It was Detective Kellogg. Her other victim agreed to testify, if she has to, and she brought more charges against him. They’ve charged him with everything he did to you, and he’s locked up until trial.” He chuckled. “Well, unless his wife posts bond for him, and since she’s apparently filing for divorce…….that ain’t happenin’!”

“Locked up?” Billie whispered, her eyes begging Richie to confirm it, her hands clasped tightly to contain the shakes that had come from nowhere.

“Locked up.” Richie confirmed, seeing her fight the reaction.

Hesitating for a moment, he got off his couch and moved to sit next to her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, pulling her to him.

“He’s locked up, Billie. He can’t hurt you again. You’re safe. I wouldn’t ever let him hurt you again, darlin’.”

“I…….” She tried to pull out of his arms, not because she was afraid of him, but she was afraid of herself. Afraid if she allowed herself to react that she’d never stop the shaking and the tears that she could feel.

“Let it go, Billie.” Richie whispered against her hair. “It’s okay. Let it go. You need to let it out.”

A sob racked her, and the shuddering gulp for breath that followed ripped into Richie’s heart, then all he could do was hold her as Billie started to cry like she’d never stop, every tear cleansing away another fraction of what had been done to her, helping her to start healing mentally and emotionally as well as physically.