Her only hope

Part 3 - Undercover angel

Stevie sat up in her bed, feeling rather anxious, pulling out her journal as she reached for a pen, opening the leather cover while flipping through the pages. She felt as if it was time to put her story in to words, pressing the pen to the paper as at first she wrote normally but then her hand began to shake... Stevie's nerves were entirely too  shot to do anything this intricate.

"Fvck..." tears welling up in her eyes as she attempted again, pressing a little harder this time, but still - her pen escaped the paper. "No! Fvck!" throwing the pen across the room then her journal in one swift movement. Her dog went hiding underneath the bed and Stevie sobbed in to her hands; the very thing that she loved the most was impossible to achieve.  

Lindsey was sitting in the guest room that he'd set up; he's been with Stevie for two weeks, her finally able to practice some alone time. He used his time alone to plan out a search for the three rapists, having their faces glued in to his mind so when he went for a walk through West Hollywood, he wouldn't have to keep looking at his phone. If there was one thing that Lindsey would not do, is become unintentional prey like Stevie, but his idea would help him blend in with a black hoodie and sweatpants.

"Linds..." Stevie knocked, her voice low and raspy.

"Steph," he said to himself while stuffing his notes away in a dresser, fixing his hair in the mirror then opening the door for her. "Hey, sweetie, how are you feeling?"

"Linds," speaking his name again, "...I can't write..." a single tear falling down her cheek to her lips.

"What do you mean?" taking her by the hand then walking her towards the bed, holding her there.

"I mean, that I can't write!  I tried and my hand - it's not working!" holding it out as he ran his fingers over hers.

"Oh, honey, come here," kissing all along her face, placing her hand to his chest, "...remember what your counselor said?" She had been seeing one for a week now, helping drastically.

"I know," Stevie sighed, "'...don't push yourself too hard where you may not be able to recover at all."'

"Exactly," brushing the hair from her face, "...so that doesn't mean that you cannot write anymore but your body must heal."

"I hate living like this..." wrapping her arms around herself, "...I can't beat it."

"Hey," lifting her chin up with his finger, "...you already are! Last week I couldn't be more than five feet away and now you're allowing yourself to breathe with out me, that's a big step, and I'm so proud of you."

Nodding, Stevie bit her bottom lip, which that bruise had started healing. "Thank you..."

"You're welcome."

"Has Kristen spoken to you?"

He shook his head, "What she thinks or what she's said means nothing right now, okay? I am here to be your friend and support system, that is all, and if she can't accept that...then I guess she married the wrong man."

"What do you mean?"

"As in I'm faithful."

A smile spread across her face, knowing that he was always the faithful boyfriend. "Oh, Linds, I know that..."

"So in ways it hurts me that she can't see the reason I'm here," though he knew deep down their love affair never died.

"You know -"

"No, don't even tell me to leave because I won't... I'm not leaving until you are arguing with me and threatening my life," cracking a joke as he chuckled.