Chapter 12

Saturday, Aug 25, 5:52 am

Lou sat bent, looking at the neck and strings as he strummed Bill's guitar. Tom was having another beer. Bill was on his third cup of coffee. They watched the sun rise together from the kitchen. No one had said anything in a while. There was nothing to say at the moment.

They waited. After a while Lou handed the guitar to Tom, who strummed it testing. Bill had given a few lessons to Tom, and he was proud of what he had picked up so far.

As he strummed, he thought about the night before. He had left early yeah, but only two hours early. He and Lou hadn't stumbled back to the Suds Factory until near three am. Sarah was a closer that night, so she would have been there until two fifteen, minimum. Somewhere between there, and at least a minute before he and Lou reached the parking lot is where Sarah had been attacked. But not mugged. Her money, I.D., all that was there. Her watch and necklace too.

Growling a little, Tom plucked a sour note.

Lou went out back, lighting a cigarette. He didn't know this girl, had seen her only once before when she was bartending at the Factory, but that hardly mattered. The situation she was in before the attack must have been something else if she didn't want her parents to know about it. Add this in, and it was just a fucked scenario no matter how you looked at it.

Bill watched Lou through the kitchen window without really seeing him. He was surprised he was so angry about her rape at first - wasn't that the kind of perv he was turning out to be? Just how much force had he used on Trisha the other night. How much did this mimic the fantasies he shared with Angel.

His curled fingers of his empty hand clenched and unclenched, nails pressing to his flesh.

Trisha walked in, wearing one of Bill's button up shirts and a pair of boxers, yawning. "C'mon guys. Get some rest, some sleep. Tom, Lou, go home and get some sleep. She won't be waking anytime soon."

Tom muttered something about having another beer. Thinking hard as he walked to the fridge.

Lou didn't hear her, being outside still.

Bill said he wasn't tired in a tone that brooked no argument.

Shrugging, Trisha padded over to the coffee maker, grabbing a cup.

...

pain...

so ... so much ... pain...

everywhere, god...

her jaw ... her chest...

her stomach...

her sex ... her legs...

hurt...

Saturday, Aug 25, 7:26 pm

With a low groan, barely moving her swollen lips, Sarah slowly opened her eyes. This proved painful, especially to her left eye: it was swollen almost shut. She could make only dim shades out of that one.

She stared with her right eye without seeing as she tried to get a grip on her pain, manage it. So far she was left breathless.

Long moments passed.

Finally, managing her breathing and her pain, Sarah looked again. Confusion filled her with the unfamiliar ceiling. Not knowing how she got here, or where here was, Sarah thought on her injuries. With a sudden wave, the memories came down hard.

Gasping, trying to shriek, but not having enough air, Sarah sat up suddenly, back peddling, the long t-shirt she wore riding down, her hands and feet pushing her against the head board as she felt his weight, his force his lust his COCK his cum his satisfaction his surprise his anger his hatred his fists oh god his boots.

A scream erupted from Sarah's throat, raw, powerful, loud. If she was of a mind at the moment, she would have been in awe of those asthmatic lungs and the force with which they worked. It rolled on and on, even after others burst in the room, even after their calming voices and words tried to work on her ... she only stopped when Bill thrust his face in front of hers and said quietly, "sarah. it's okay. you're with me. you're safe."

Lou's hands were tightened fists as he watched Bill hold a weeping Sarah. He had felt mad before, over many things, but the level of pure anger he felt right now was shocking to him.

Trisha noticed. She grasped his wrist and led him from the room.

Tom watched, not noticing the tears he had rolling down his face. Finally he left the room, not being able to bear watching this any further.

Bill held Sarah for a length of time neither knew. He rocked her slowly, hands on her back, her head buried in his shoulder. The cloth there was soaked from her weeping. He didn't notice.

Saturday, Aug 25, 11:02 pm

Sarah knew she was in Bill's home, could feel it, and felt such a wave of love for Tom that she almost couldn't stand it. It must have been so hard for him to take her here instead of the hospital. But he knew where to take her.

She was looking down at the tray of food Tom's friend, Lou, had brought up. Scrambled eggs, wheat toast and weak tea. Sarah looked up with a slight smirk (that no one saw because of how swollen her lips were), and said, "I don't have the flu, you know."