Arsen was getting hungry and he needed to get the chick’s prescriptions filled. Most of the club was dispersing, their day done, and he was ready to call it a day himself. “I’m getting ready to go. Cyra, who’s here who can stay with her tonight?”
“I don’t have any plans, so I can stay.”
“You don’t mind?”
“Nah. We’ll stay in and watch some chick flick on Netflix.”
Answer chuckled. “That’s just what she needs, a movie to make her cry.”
“Yeah, I know,” she said becoming more serious. “I can’t imagine what she’s been through.”
“I can’t either.” He turned his attention to the woman. “I’m going to leave you here with Cyra, okay? She’s not going to hurt you, understand?” She gripped his arm, so he guided her back to her room.
“You need some help?” Cyra asked.
“No, I’ve got it,” he said as he worked to get her hands off him. “It’s going to be okay. Just relax. Cyra is going to take good care of you. I’ll be back first thing in the morning.” Her grip tightened down and became more desperate. “You have to stay here.”
She began to keen as he became more and more forceful in removing her hands. “Listen to me!” he snapped. “She’s not going to hurt you. Nobody is going to hurt you. You’re safe here. I’ll be back first thing in the morning.”
She backed in the corner of the room and settled to the floor, her knees to her chest with her arms around them, rocking as she keened softly, her tears streaming down her face.
He saw Cyra wipe a tear away as she watched the woman. He moved to her and crouched. “You’re safe, understand? Nobody is going to hurt you. You can lock the door if you want.” She didn’t react, pausing in her crying only long enough to draw another breath.
He stood and backed away. “Can you stay here with her?” Cyra asked as she wiped another tear.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, not after what she’s been through. What if she gets scared? What if she thinks I’m going to…?” He let his voice trail off.
“Look at her, Arsen! She’s terrified. You’re reaching her. She understands you’re leaving her and she’s scared shitless of that. She trusts you.” Cyra wiped her eyes again. “Don’t do this to her, please.”
He looked back and forth between Cyra and the shattered woman on the floor. “Fuck. Fine. Come on,” he said, holding his hand out to her. “You can come home with me.” She didn’t move, still rocking as she softly wailed. “Come on, or stay. It’s your choice,” he said softly, his hand still out. Again she didn’t move.
He moved to crouch in front of her. “You’d be safe here,” he said softly. “I thought you would prefer to stay here with Cyra, since she’s another woman, but if you’d rather come with me, that’s okay. I’m trying to do what’s best for you. If coming with me is what’s best, then I want you to come with me.”
He rose and held his hand out to her. After a moment her keens stopped, her rocking a moment later. She reached out to him and he pulled her to her feet. “You realize it’s just going to be me and you alone, in my house, right? I won’t touch you, but if you get scared that I’ll - there won’t be anyone there but me. I don’t want you to be afraid.”
She looked at him a moment then melted into his chest. “Okay. I guess I have my answer.”
“You’re doing a good thing.”
“So long as she doesn’t go ape shit in the middle of the night.”
Cyra giggled, then wiped her eyes and sniffed. “Somehow, I don’t think that’s going to be an issue.”
“Can you lock up?”
“Yeah. Go.”
Arsen escorted her out, the sun low on the horizon as they mounted his bike. They made a stop at a pharmacy and had her prescriptions filled, then rumbled through town to his house. He turned into his drive, then pirouetted the bike around. When he switched it off, she stepped off. He walked to the garage door and keyed the combination to start the door rumbling up. The bike went inside, parked between the two-year-old Cadillac CTS V and the four-year-old Ford Raptor.
“Come in,” he said, opening the door to his kitchen and slapping the button to close the garage door.
His house wasn’t huge by modern standards, but it was impeccably finished and maintained, inside and out. Like the clubhouse, it was a sand colored adobe with a red tile roof. He’d hired someone to landscaped the yard with rocks, cacti, and hardy desert plants. Zero maintenance combined with a great look. He loved it. Inside, the southwest theme continued with reds and browns, tile floors and large, open rooms. The kitchen was fitted with granite countertops, custom cabinets and top of the line appliances.
“Make yourself at home,” he said as he closed the door behind her. “Let me show you your room.” He led her down the hall, turning into the smallest of the three bedrooms. “The bath is through there. If you need to go, you don’t have to ask my permission, okay? I’ll find you a t-shirt or something for you to sleep in later.” She didn’t respond so he continued. “You hungry? I’m starving.”
He walked out, leaving her standing there. She could either follow or not, he didn’t care. She was going to have to start doing things on her own sooner or later, and he figured he might as well start forcing her to do that now.
A moment later she appeared in the family room, stopping at the island. “There’s beer and water in the fridge if you want something. Here, take these,” he said, shaking four pills into his hand, two from each bottle.
She took them but paused. “Water in the fridge,” he reminded her.
She opened the refrigerator and pulled a bottle out, grimacing as she twisted it open. She put the pills in her mouth, one at a time, taking a sip of water after each one to wash them down.
“There. Was that so hard? You have to take those four pills, twice a day, three days on the tablet if you’re hurting, five days on capsules. Got it?”
He prepared dinner, chatting on about nothing, talking to her as if she were engaged in the conversation. He grilled some chicken, added a splash of lime juice, then wrapped them in a tortilla, adding a bit of local salsa and fresh cheese. He removed the refried beans from the microwave and added a helping to each plate.
“Grab me a beer?” he asked as he walked past with the plates and forks. “Get one for yourself if you want it.” He intentionally ignored her as he fussed with the plates, turning to take the two beers from her when he heard the refrigerator door close. He opened them and placed one at each place. He slid a chair out and held it until she sat down, then pushed her up.
“Dig in. Burritos suck when they’re cold.”
“What do you think?” he asked as she bit into her burrito. She looked up, and a faint smile touched her lips as she chewed. “Good huh? I love these things.”
She slowly nodded head and he chuckled. “That’s a start. Can you tell me your name? I’m Arsen Kyle, but you probably know that already.” She opened her mouth as if she was going to tell him, then looked down as tears seeped from her eyes.
“Hey, hey,” he said softly. “Don’t worry about it.” He was getting the sense she wanted to talk but something was stopping her and she couldn’t. It was probably nothing physical, since Doc Holiday didn’t seem concerned about her head. “Don’t push it. You’ll be able to talk when you’re ready.”
She looked up at him and sniffed, wiping her eyes with her hands, then stared at her plate.
“Is that all you’re going to eat?” He watched as she hesitated, then picked up her burrito again. He chatted with her, trying to draw her out, watching as she ate both her burritos, all her beans, and finished her beer. “You want something else?”
She slowly shook her head, and he smiled. Two responses. He was on a roll.
He quickly cleared the table, adding the dishes to the washer. It had yesterday’s dishes in it as well, so he started it washing. He picked up another beer for himself, a water for her, and then settled on the couch and flicked on the television. He was flipping through the streaming selection on Netflix when she settled beside him, finally selecting 50 First Dates as something that shouldn’t upset her and maybe he could stomach.
He didn’t hate the movie, but he’d seen better, and he had no idea if she liked it or not. She simply stared at the screen, though about halfway through she did lean into his side a bit and he put his arm around her shoulders.
As the movie ended, he squirmed out from under her. “Ready for bed?” He saw her stiffen slightly, but then rise to her feet. “Come on, let’s find you something to wear.”
He led her into his bedroom. He rummaged through a drawer until he found a Southwestern shirt he’d been given when he bought his motorcycle. It would hang on her like a dress, but that’s what he wanted. He grabbed one of his unopened toothbrushes and a small tube of toothpaste he kept for unexpected overnight guests, and handed it to her.
“Towels and washcloths are in the bathroom closet.” She stood, watching him until he made shooing gestures with his hands. She stood a moment longer, and he thought he was going to have to give her a push to get her moving when she turned and walked out.
He washed the road dust off his neck and arms before tossing his dirty clothes into the hamper. He sighed as he slid between the crisp, cool, satin sheets. He would give her tomorrow to get over this inability to speak, but if she couldn’t, or wouldn’t, speak after that, he would have to find someone to help her. He had a business to run and he couldn’t have this damaged woman hanging on his heels all the time.
He was sliding into sleep when he sensed movement in the room. He jerked awake, instinctively reaching for the weapon on the side table as she moved across the end of the bed. She slid into the bed with him and turned her back to him before snuggling in close. He wasn’t sure what he should do, but decided to roll over and pull her into a spoon, wrapping her in his arms. He wasn’t normally much for cuddling after sex, but this felt entirely different. He had a long moment of trying to figure out where to put his hands without her thinking he was asking for something. Finally, he wrapped one around her shoulders, the other around her belly, pulling her tight against him. It was how she’d held herself, when she’d curled up on the bed, rocking. He had to admit, she felt nice against his naked body, even with the shirt on, and he smiled as she wiggled in a bit closer.
“Quinn,” she murmured.
He flashed hot at hearing her voice for the first time. “Quinn? That’s your name?”
She nodded slowly, then sighed.
“First or last?”
He waited, but she didn’t answer. After a moment, her breathing becoming slow and regular.