“I guess you couldn’t,” Lance remembered her predicament as a loner. He’d previously questioned her about it. “Are you being bullied at school?”
“Sometimes,” she’d replied. “There are times the racial aspect comes up. There’ll be a period of bullying. But mostly, I just freeze when anyone approaches.” She went on to explain that the only person she felt safe with, who added joy to her world, a solace she’d desperately needed had been her relationship with Lance, her neighbor and only friend.
Once she’d finished her story, they were both in tears. He’d held her hand carefully, making sure he didn’t do anything that might spook her or make her feel uncomfortable. And yet, he needed her to know he cared about the nightmare she’d suffered.
Wanting to protect her… no matter what, he’d listened, mostly without saying anything, other than to compel her to continue when she became overwrought.
Finally, exhaustion struck. “I feel so… so dirty.” Her voice had become hoarse, and words dried up. Her head sank to her chest. She wiped her face with the soaked tissues she’d clung to.
Seeing she’d come to the end of her endurance; Lance spoke very gently. “I’m so very sorry you had to go through all this, Melena. I wish I had known. I would have helped you. But I truly believe that sharing your experiences now will lessen the burden.” She looked up at his words, and he continued, “Do I have to remind you that he’s the grownup and you are… were the child?”
“I know. It’s what I’ve said to myself over and over. I even screamed it at him one time, but he wouldn’t listen. Instead, he got mad. He hit me. From then on, I wasn’t allowed to talk. No words. No crying. Just… like, disappear inside.”
“I hope now that you’ve shared your story with me, you can let go of some of the guilt and pain. Try to relax, honey. I believe every word, and that monster will never get to you again, I promise. Trust me.”
“I do. I knew you’d help me. You were my only hope.”
“Good. Okay, come, you need to sleep. It’ll be better in the morning, and the next morning, and each day after that.”
By now, the poor exhausted girl looked ready to pass out, and he carried her to his room, nestled her into his bed, and gathered his own belongings to take with him to the hotel down the street.
He left her his cell number, and strict instructions not to answer the door to anyone but him. He placed money by the note, promised to call in on her the next day, and instructions on how to use the front door’s combination lock so she could come and go from his place if she wanted to. Then he headed to his new abode.
Showering later, hot water pouring over his body, he pounded his fists against the tiles, wishing it was the man’s face who he’d never liked or felt comfortable in his presence.
From the first day he’d met Henry Brunner – both of them arriving at the apartment at the same time – Lance had sensed a callous element in the guy and had put it down to his dangerous job and losing his wife.
Now he felt like an imbecile for not seeing what had been happening right under his nose. He swore then and there that he’d get that son of a bitch no matter how long it took.
Goddammit… poor, poor Mellie.