Page 4 of Plain Jade

She didn’t even want to think about what happened. There was no pain, other than inside her head, and of course her stomach. Her attacker had kept hitting her in the stomach.

“You’re awake.”

Jade gasped and turned, only to wince and press her palm up to her head, trying to stop it from exploding.

“The pain will subside. There are a couple of painkillers there and some water.”

She didn’t know who this man was. Was she in the hospital?

“Thank you,” she said. Her voice was hoarse. She figured it was from all the screaming she did, or tried to do.

She moved slowly, seeing the two pills, which she took. There was also a glass of water. It wasn’t cold, lukewarm at best. She drank half the glass of water and leaned back, thanking him a second time.

“Am I in the hospital?”

“No.”

Jade frowned.

“Where am I?”

The man hesitated for a second. “You’re safe.”

“What happened?” Jade asked.

“What do you remember?”

Jade nibbled her lip as she recalled the night. “I had a horrible date. I got my food packed up—”

“Food?”

“Yeah, the bar where I was offered food and a to-go service. The date was going horribly, so I got them to package my food.”

“Why was your date going horribly?”

“They always do. Men don’t find me attractive,” she said.

She had noticed this man, whoever he was, also wasn’t showing himself. He stood close to the light, which made it hard to see him clearly. Lifting her hand up, she tried to ward off some of the light to see him better, but it didn’t work.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Then what happened?”

Jade wanted to argue with him, to tell him it was none of his business. Was he a police officer? Had he found her? Had someone reported what happened? Had her attacker … raped her? She had so many questions.

The panic threatened to rise, but she squashed it down. There was no room for that kind of behavior. Her mother had always taught her to be calm and in control. If only she had taught her how to protect herself, she wouldn’t be in this mess. But she didn’t want to blame her mother.

“I, ugh, I left, and I was walking home, when someone attacked me. He pulled me into that dark alley. I hit my head.” She pressed her fingers up toward her head.

“I took care of it.”

She felt a bandage beneath her fingers. “You did? You’re a doctor?”

“What else do you remember?”

She didn’t know why it was so important for him to know every detail. “He was tearing at my tights and … hitting me. I tried to stop him, and then he must have hit me too hard, because I don’t know what happened next.”

Tears filled her eyes, and she tried to hold them back.

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