Temporary Protector

Aftermath

Jessa woke up screaming.

The faces of the two men that had r***d and beaten her haunted her. The disgusting grunts and pleasure they had taken in the pain they had caused her. They took pleasure in Tommy’s pain, forced to watch. But the image that had haunted her more was seeing them shoot Tommy in the head. The way his body had gone suddenly limp. The image replayed itself in her head over and over.

Tommy was everything to her.

He was her best friend.

If only people had known that they weren't a real couple in the true sense of the word. It was one of convenience. Jessa had a deadline for having babies and Tommy always wanted to be a father. No one wanted to be with a cop. All of Tommy's exes couldn't handle his hours, the danger and for Jessa, she was married to her job but she wanted children more than anything.

Still, seeing Tommy die... Forcing them to watch his best friend violated had been cruel.

She had lost everything. Her dream, her partner, her best friend. And now, she was as good as dead since she knew what they looked like. She knew which cops were in on it but she wouldn't say a word.

The Fettucini brothers were in jail on r**e and murder charges but it wouldn't stick unless she ID’d them. Despite the evidence stacked against them, they had friends in high places. They had been smart enough to use condoms but not smart enough to cover their faces. Arrogance and the knowledge that they had properly scared Jessa to stay silent.

Jessa was in shock, but she was also scared.

In one quick movement, the door bursts open. A man she had never seen before, dressed in an open blue plaid shirt and khakis, is holding a gun in her general direction, but not directly at her. He seems to scan the room for any threats. Jessa screams again before he points the weapon away.

“What happened?” He’s still in a defensive stance.

“A nightmare. I apologize. There isn't any danger.” The daylight through the curtains tells her it's morning and she had slept pretty solid. She vaguely remembered Jack entering a highway ramp before she dozed off. One of the two men must have carried her in. She was impressed given she wasn't a woman who weighed less than one hundred forty. On a good day.

Still, he checks the room until he seems satisfied and then clicks the safety shoving it into the back of his pants.

“You must be my host, I'm Doctor Jessa Malone.”

She swings her legs from the bed. She's still wearing scrubs from the hospital. Ones she had grabbed from her locker because the police had confiscated the nightie and rope she had been wearing.

The first thing Ryan notices is the bruising and healing cuts on her face and arms. He assumed the rest of her body mirrored the injuries. He steps forward and takes her hand. Despite what he thought, her hand is softer than he imagined it should be for a doctor.

“Breakfast is on the table. I will be in the rear of the house if you need anything. There is a toothbrush on the counter in the bathroom and towels on the shelf. There is only one phone and it's encrypted so you need permission to dial out so don't bother trying. I don't talk much and just know this is temporary until Jack works something out. I don't care if you testify or not, but I’m not about to let any more harm come to you.”

He turns, going toward the door.

“What do I call you?” She calls out.

He stops. “You can call me Copeland.”

And without looking back, he leaves the room. She stares after him for a few moments before standing and searching for the allusive breakfast he had mentioned. Sure enough, on the table were three different boxes of cereal, a bottle of milk and the bowl to put it in.

She goes for the sugary high fruity rings and empties the box. Judging by how stale they taste, she can safely say it isn't his favourite. She cleans up the mess and after some searching finds the small bathroom. Although the cabin only looks rustic, the tub is antique. A refurbished clawfoot with the pole shower and wrap around curtain. A bath seems like a guilty pleasure but a soak would feel nice after her quick shower in the hospital locker room.

Looking under the sink, she finds a body wash that could work as a bubble bath and fills the tub. She strips and for the first time with non-drug filled eyes she sees the condition the brothers had left her body.

The bruises on her body were already starting to yellow. There was a long cut near her belly where Romeo had split the nightie and cut off her panties with his knife. It wasn't deep, merely done with haste and carelessness. She was noticeably swollen in her pelvic region.

She turns her head away.

She knew as a doctor the kind of damage that could happen if she resisted them. Damage she wasn't willing to risk and so she had gone limp, allowed it but it hadn't stopped her from bawling the entire time, until Giovanni had punched her and told her to shut up while he held her wrists tightly.

She looked down at them, the bruises there were shaped like fingerprints. She can't look at herself in the mirror. Part of her was ashamed she hadn't fought back. Hadn't tried to help Tommy.

She then turns and notices the window. The curtains weren't pulled shut and watching her for a moment was Copeland. She notices his fists clench immediately and he walks away.

It's a late reaction for Jessa to pull her hands up to her breasts but she had never really thought much of her body. It was far from those belonging to half the women she treated. She didn't have young perky breasts or an impossibly flat stomach, no matter how many crunches she did. Her legs were muscular from her hours on her feet, walking. Even her face was what Tommy called ‘cute’ but he told her that he wasn't attracted to her sexually. Tommy liked the kind of women she treated. Last but not least, her thick wavy copper coloured hair. If she avoided the product, it frizzed making her appear like the victim of static electricity.

On top of it all, she only stood about Five foot three. But her hands were steady, her mind sharp and her bedside manner had always been raved about. Children loved her, women felt safe and unintimidated and men failed to get erections and thus were not liable to have fantasies that would anger their wives.

However, at this moment her hands were trembling. She felt like those men had stolen her dignity, not just the person she cared for most.

She steps into the tub, letting the warm water and bubbles envelope her like a hug. Something she would probably never receive from a living human again.