Motorcycle Girl: Book Two

Chapter 8: Shell

The pic on the side was only fitting for the end of the chapter. I'm not sure if I posted it in the first book, but I don't think I need to explain

_____

I'm sure if my fiancé wasn't as distraught as she is, the moment Officer Larik left, she would have started in on me for basically saying I'd kill the guy if he touched her again...in front of a cop, mind you.

My mother, however, was not distraught, and it took no time for her, my aunt, Odette's aunt and my future mother-in-law to start in on me.

However, after screaming at me for twenty minutes, we realized Odeletta is no longer in the room.

I brushed them off, told them that if the officer was worried, he wouldn't have laughed and told me not to go around saying that.

And then I slipped upstairs.

Now I pad down the hallway to the bedroom in search of her.

She's in there, alright. The light is off and the only light we can see with is coming from the light from the living room downstairs, but mostly from the New York City lights.

I was expecting her to be crying, but she's not.

She's not doing anything.

She's just standing there and staring at the closet door.

Her clothes have blood on them, her hands...

She needs to clean up.

I get a pair of her panties, one of my white t-shirts, and a pair of my blue and white plaid pajama bottoms. I go put them in the bathroom and walk back to where she's standing.

Gently, I put my hands on her shoulders. She jumps.

"It's me." I murmur. "It's just Nathan, okay?"

She doesn't nod or anything, but she lets my hands stay on her shoulders.

I guide her to the bathroom, walking slowly with her.

When I shut the door and lock it, she reaches over and unlocks it.

I don't question her or say anything, I just walk over to the tub and turn it on.

When the water is the temperature I know she likes, I plug the drain and turn to her.

"You need to take a bath, okay?" I say.

She just looks at me and lifts her arms up.

I pull her long sleeve dress over her head, putting it in the hamper.

She stands before me in her bra and underwear, her arms wrapped around herself.

I shut the lid to the toilet seat and gently guide her to sit.

When she does, I take off her heels.

I set them out of the way.

She stares blankly at the class door of the shower.

The tub next to the shower is filling, and I wait until it's full enough and shut the water off. I get her shampoo and body wash down and set it on the edge, turning to her.

"Can you stand up?" I ask.

When she doesn't move, like she didn't hear me, I gently put my hands on her shoulder.

She jumps.

"It's me." I say softly, my heart aching for her. "It's just me, amour."

At the mention of my name for her, she stands up.