His jaw works. Intensity burns in his eyes. Then he stands, grabs a long roll of paper towels, and carefully wraps my hands in it. “Okay,” he says, “here’s what’s going to happen. We’re going to Doug’s office to clean and bandage your hands. After that, we’re leaving. I’m taking you home, and?—”
“I can’t leave,” I blurt. “I’m working a double. I have to get back out there, clean up the mess I made.” Glancing down, I realize my shirt is covered with bloodstains. “I need a new shirt, and I have to replace all the glasses, so I have to work to pay for it. Assuming Doug doesn’t want to fire me for making a scene in his diner. But he probably will, and I’ll be unemployed again, and I won’t be able to pay my rent…”
Webb silences me with a soft kiss. Then he puts his arm around me and helps me to my feet. “You’re not going to get fired, Noelle. And if Doug insists on you paying for the broken glasses or a new T-shirt,I’llpay for it.”
I peer up at him, blinking away my tears. “You can’t.”
His tone is firm. “Yes, Noelle, I can. And I will, if it comes to that. But you’re not working anymore today. Period. I already told Doug I’m taking you home, and he agreed.”
Maybe another time, I’d take issue with Webb’s no-arguments proclamation. But right now, I don’t have the energy or desire to resist. Not when I’m feeling so raw and vulnerable. So I just nod against his neck and mumble, “Okay.”
Webb leans back slightly so he can look at my face. “Do you want to go to your place or mine?”
“Mine,” I whisper. “So I can shower and change my clothes.”
“Okay.” He tucks my wrapped hands against my chest, holding them carefully. Then he leads me out of the bathroom, supporting me when my legs wobble. “We’ll take the back exit, so you don’t have to see anyone else, alright?”
“Okay.” As we start down the hallway to Doug’s office, a belated thought hits me. “How did you get into the bathroom? I locked the door.”
Webb hugs me closer. “I picked the lock.”
“You picked the lock?”
“Yeah.” His cheeks turn the faintest pink. Then he lifts his chin. “Doug said you were upset. Hurt. Bleeding. I wasn’t about to just leave you in there, Noelle. Not when you needed me.”
Oh.
Despite the horribleness of my day so far, a tiny spark of warmth flares to life inside me. Swallowing hard against the lump in my throat, I reply quietly, “I’m glad you did.”
CHAPTER 9
WEBB
Every timeI think the worst of my anger has passed, another memory brings it roaring back.
I remember the hushed whispers in the diner when I came in, along with the piercing whisper that raised above the rest, as one female patron said to the other,“Porn. I bet that video was just the start of one of her disgusting videos. And this was all some weird publicity stunt.”
How dare she say that about Noelle?
First of all, I’m certain Noelle’s not involved in making porn. Not that there’s anything wrong with it if she was, but anyone with half a brain would realize that video was taken without Noelle knowing. And the idea of it being a publicity stunt? That’s just crazy.
Then there’s the actual video. What kind of fucked up person would not only record Noelle like that, but hack into the TVs to stream footage of Noelle changing to a restaurant full of people?
A person I’d like to have some words with in private, for sure.
And the worst memory was opening the bathroom door to find Noelle inside, blood all over her hands and clothes, sobbing, looking so small and broken…
Shit.
Shit.
Pain spears through my jaw as I grit my teeth. My hands flex into fists, desperate to hit something. Preferably, the piece of shit who did this to Noelle, but right now, honestly, anything would do.
Making sure the shower is still running, I go over to the couch and punch one of the throw pillows a few times. I can’t hit it as hard as I’d like, since I don’t want Noelle to come out to a pile of torn fabric and stuffing, but it helps. A little.
Then I start pacing around her little apartment again while I take deep breaths to calm myself. I’ve held it together pretty well so far, but without Noelle here to focus my attention on, it’s harder to stave off the anger.
I don’t know who did it. Yet. Noelle wouldn’t say, and I didn’t want to push. Not when she was still crying and I just wanted to get her home. And I didn’t have a chance to ask once we got back to her apartment, because she immediately made a beeline for the bathroom and hasn’t come out since.
