SILVER
The door fliesopen before I can knock again, and Solana crashes into me. She buries her face into my chest, her whole body shaking from the force of her sobs.
“I-I can’t—I wish I c-could—but now I’m remembering—s-so much worse—” she rambles between her cries.
I can’t make sense of what she’s saying. Her tears have already soaked through my shirt. If she keeps crying like this, she’s going to make herself sick and pass out.
“Hey,” I rasp gently, peeling her off me. “Shhh, it’s alright. Let’s sit down.”
I guide us inside, kicking the door shut behind me. I already know we have the house to ourselves. Moses took some time off to party with some pals in Vegas. Big Ed’s busy tonight handling some debts owed to us; he won’t be done for another couple hours.
The whole house is quiet. It’s immediately lonely, even for a forty-something-year-old man like me. I can’t imagine how it’s felt for her.
We sit down on the couch with Solana still trembling so violently, I can feel it just by sitting next to her.
“Breathe,” I say. “Just take it one breath at a time, alright?”
She nods, eyes glassy and unfocused. She’s shell-shocked… as if she’s struggling to process something.
I’ve seen this look before on guys who’ve witnessed things no sane person should.
Solana curls into herself, gasping between sobs, her fingers digging into her knees. It takes her another moment to calm down enough to even remotely speak.
“Tell me what’s going on,” I say patiently. As patient as I can manage when instincts already demand blood for whoever’s hurt her.
But I can’t fly off the handle. I can’t approach this situation like a bull in a china shop—it would get us nowhere and cause Solana to shut down. She’d possibly grow scared and refuse to even tell me what’s going on.
Instinct tells me she needs someone to confide in very badly or this won’t end well.
“I didn’t…” she stammers, then pauses for another sob. She shakes her head and mops at her tear-streaked face with the back of her hand. “I didn’t tell you everything. La-last Sunday when you picked me up.”
I already knew that. It was more than obvious she was hiding vital information.
One look at her told me she had reason to be distressed. No woman winds up with bruises and a torn dress for good reason.
She hiccups, then gulps down more air. “I didn’t… I wasn’t sure. I couldn’t remember. But… but when I woke up…”
“You can tell me,” I prompt when she trails off again. “Whatever it is, I’m here for you.”
“I… I woke up n-naked. In K-Kel’s bed.”
“Who’s Kel?” I demand without thinking to censor myself. It comes out rougher than I intend, more growl than patient question. Red’s already creeping into the edges of my vision.
More tears stream down her cheeks as she looks down at our feet on the floor. I draw a calming breath and force myself to dial it back.
She needs a stable shoulder to cry on right now, not rage.
“Sorry,” I say softer. “Who’s Kel?”
But she doesn’t answer the question. Probably because she suspects why I want to know. Instead she shakes her head and goes on with her stream of consciousness.
“Nobody would tell me what happened. My friends… they just kept calling me blackout and making jokes, and I… I couldn’t remember and now… I know why they wouldn’t tell me. Kel and me—we had sex.Hehad sex with me. I couldn’t move. I felt so sick and the room was spinning. But he didn’t… he wouldn’t?—”
She can’t bring herself to finish. But I can fill in the blanks. The bruises she mentioned. Waking up confused and naked. Friends who won’t give straight answers. Some piece of shit named Kel.
“Come here,” I murmur, pulling her against me. She breaks down again, sobbing into my shoulder while I hold her, one hand smoothing her hair while my other clenches into a fist behind her back.
I’m going to kill him. Whoever Kel is, he’s dead. He just doesn’t know it yet.
