“We’ll leave as soon as Murphy’s out of the bathroom,” Oliver answered, putting his hands on his hips as he stared me down.
I shook my head, confused by the way it was being handled. “So that’s it? Ed’s detained and we hightail it out of here with our tail between our legs?”
Oliver snorted, his hands falling down at his sides. “What are you suggesting, Jared?”
“I’m suggesting…” My voice rose, and I snapped my mouth shut. Murphy didn’t need to hear us yelling at each other over what happened. I took a deep breath, blew it out, and started again, keeping my voice low and even. “I’m suggesting that we make sure a report is written and charges are filed.”
Oliver nodded as if in agreement and sighed. “A report has been filed.”
I rubbed at the tension building in the back of my neck. “By who? Because no one’s talked to Murphy. And I know none of us have had—”
“By me. I reported it.”
“When? You haven’t had time to do it!”
“Are you sure? Because while you’ve been taking care of Murphy in here, I’ve been taking care of her out there,” he said with a quick jerk of his head towards the front of the bus.
“That doesn’t make any sense. How—?”
Oliver’s hand clamped down on my shoulder. “Look, I understand you’re frustrated.” I snorted, crossing my arms as I glared at him. “But I did what needed to be done. Ed will no longer be a problem for her, or us. The report is filed. The FBI has been notified. What more do you want?”
I shrugged his hand off. “Proof, Oliver. I want proof.”
He stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest as a look of disbelief crossed his face. “Are you so willing to put Murphy through that, Jared? To make her sit down and write a report out of what happened? Because I’ll tell you what happens after that. After going over and over it with the authorities, she’ll be taken to the closest hospital, where she’ll undergo not only another round of questioning, but also a rape kit as well. After that, another round of questioning by the cops, where they’ll only get Ed on some trumped-up charge of battery and set his bond. I don’t know about you, but handing him over to the FBI sounds better and better when you look at what could happen if we left it in the hands of the local authorities.”
His explanation left me speechless. He’d really thought it all the way through and had done what was best for Murphy given the circumstances. When I kept silent, he walked away, and I let him go.
“I hope the FBI locks him up for the rest of his miserable life,” Lars said as he fell into the bench seat of the dinette. He winced, probing at the red mark on his jaw.
“Ed will get what’s coming to him. Murphy needs to be our main concern right now,” Retro said as he pushed off the sink and disappeared down the hall.
“I’m gonna get Murphy some clothes and see how she’s doing,” I said to no one in particular. Leaving her alone for too long made me anxious to check on her.
I had no idea where she’d stuffed her clothes, so I grabbed one of my T-shirts to give her something to slip on until I could ask her where her stuff was.
Softly, I bumped my knuckles against the bathroom door and waited for her to reply. When she didn’t, I grew concerned and cracked the door open. The shower water was running. Murphy, still fully clothed, sat under the spray.
I stepped inside the bathroom, closed the door behind me, and grabbed a towel from the small cabinet recessed inside the wall. She never looked up when I opened the shower door and shut the water off. I kicked my shoes off and stepped inside. Kneeling down, I wrapped the towel over her shoulders and helped her to her feet. She leaned into me, sobbing against my chest hard enough to shake us both.
The water had run cold on her. Her clothes soaking mine made me realize how chilled she was. I rubbed my hands up and down her back to offer some sort of warmth, even if it were by my imagination only. Her arms wrapped around my back, locking behind me as I helped her out of the shower to sit on the toilet lid.
“Murphy, you have to get out of your wet clothes before you freeze to death.” There really was no chance of that happening, but sitting in water-soaked clothes while going through shock wasn’t good for her at all. “I can help you if you want me to.”
She shifted away from me, pulling the towel closer. “Murphy, I’m not going to hurt you, but if you want Lars to come help you, I understand. I’ll go get him, if you’d like.”
She shook her head violently.
“Then let me help you. Put the towel under your shirt and wrap it around you. I’ll even turn my back and you can tell me when you’re done. Okay?”
She pulled the towel up and wiped at her face with jerky movements.
I put my back to her. “Let me know when you’re ready.”
In front of me, I hugged the T-shirt I’d brought for her against my chest, hoping my body warmth would heat up the material before I slipped it over her head.
“You can turn around now.” Her voice, almost too soft to hear, sounded like a shout after nothing but silence since I’d pulled her from the shower floor.
I kept my eyes on the top of her head and slipped the shirt over, holding it so she could put one arm, and then the other, through. The towel slipped to the ground, joining her discarded shirt and bra.
I stepped back and knelt in front of her, making myself smaller than her before I spoke. “If you tell me where your clothes are, I’ll go grab you stuff that fits.”
She tucked a chunk of her wet hair behind her ear, dropping her hand to where the T-shirt had darkened from her wet jeans. “My stuff is in the cabinets on the back wall.”
Her eyes flicked to mine when I stood and reached blindly for the doorknob behind me. “Be back in a minute. I’ll be waiting outside the door when you’re ready.”
In the living room, the guys sat stoically on the couch, waiting for news on how Murphy was. I opened the cabinets, pulled bags down, and sorted through her clothes until I had everything she needed. “It’s gonna take her a little time to deal with this. I think we just need to let her go through the motions without making her feel like we’re all hovering.”
“So are you saying we shouldn’t talk to her?” Licks asked, sounding a little pissed.
“No, that’s not what I’m saying. What I mean is, try to keep it low key. Don’t make her anymore uncomfortable than she already is,” I answered.
“Soup,” Retro said as he shot to his feet. “My mom always made me soup when I didn’t feel good.”
Licks scowled at him. “She’s not sick, dumbass. You should make her tea or something, maybe even get her some crackers.”
Oliver got up and walked over to Retro. “Tea’s a good idea. Crackers too. If she does good with those, then make her soup. I’m sure she’ll appreciate all the nice gestures once she has time to settle in. It won’t take her long to realize she’s surrounded with people who only want what’s best for her.”
Lars stood up and pulled down two pillows and Murphy’s comforter. “You guys go get her tea and crackers. I’ll make up her bed.”
I stuffed the bags back in the cabinets and grabbed the stack of clothes I’d piled up for Murphy to change into.
“Jared?” Lars spoke to me, but he didn’t turn away from making Murphy’s bed.
“Yeah?” I stopped at the mouth of the hallway to answer.
“Do you think she’ll be okay?”
“I do. I just think she needs to process this, and we need to let her and, at the same time, be there for her.”
He lifted the pillow to set it in place. Instead of putting it down, he hugged it hard against him. “I just keep thinking that if we’d have been just a few seconds later…”
“But we weren’t—you weren’t—and that made all the difference.”
I left Lars and went back to the bathroom. The sounds of frustration coming from behind the door made me almost panic until I realized Murphy was cussing like a sailor as she fought to get her jean
s off. I couldn’t help but chuckle.
“It’s not funny!” she hollered loud enough for the entire bus to hear. “I can’t get these fuckers off me!”
“Would you like some help?”
The door opening was her answer.
I stepped into the bathroom and found Murphy standing with her jeans down past her hips and a scowl on her face.
I gestured for her to sit down. When she did, I picked up her foot, proceeding to peel the wet material down her legs until she was free. She kicked them out of the way, grumbling as I handed her some underwear and a pair of pants made out of a thin, blue material I’d found in her stuff. Turning, I gave her a little privacy to put them on.
When I knew she’d finished, I turned around and handed her a shirt and bra. “I’ll be right outside the door. Jeff’s ready to roll out, so I’m gonna give him the go ahead. Okay?”
She attempted a smile that fell flat.
When the bathroom door closed behind me, Oliver gave me a nod. He’d heard what I told her, and he made his way to the front of the bus. I heard him tell Jeff that we were just waiting on Murphy to make it to the living room, and then we could go. Jeff released the air brake, and we idled. I couldn’t wait to get the hell out of Montgomery.
The bathroom door opened and Murphy stepped out, still wearing my shirt. I wanted to pull her into my chest and hold her until the nightmare she’d been through was no longer a memory. Keeping my hands from reaching out to her was hard, but she didn’t need me pawing at her, so I followed her to the back, making sure she was situated.
Lars put his hand out and Murphy gave him the shirt she’d been holding, not really paying attention to him, only to the bed he’d made up for her. A tear rolled down her cheek, and she dashed it away. He took the shirt from her, putting it away, and then sat down on the other couch. Static-filled snow danced on the screen when he turned the TV on. “Well, it’s either static or a movie. What would you like to watch, Murphy?”
I walked out and gave Oliver the go ahead as Retro passed by me, Styrofoam cup in hand with a tea bag floating in it. Licks stood at the counter beside the sink, buttering a piece of toast. When he saw me, he shrugged and said, “I’m improvising since we don’t have any crackers.”
When Jeff maneuvered the bus from the field to the road, Oliver picked up the GPS and punched in the address for Chicago, taking over Murphy’s job without a hitch. He and Jeff exchanged a few words, and then Oliver walked over and sat down at the dinette, in front of a laptop that I hadn’t noticed until then.
Curiosity clawed at me to know what he was up to, but the need to get back to Murphy outweighed it for the moment. I had plenty of time to sort out Oliver’s secrets, along with my parents. All of it took a backseat to Murphy until I knew she’d be all right. But first, I needed some pain reliever because my shoulder ached like a bitch.
I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge when Oliver called my name, motioning me over to where he sat. “Did you get any ice on your shoulder?”
I leaned my hip against the back of the bench seat, rolling my shoulder against the ache that throbbed in time with my heartbeat. “No, not yet.”
Oliver grabbed a bag off the seat beside him, pulling out a round, metal tin. When he opened it, the pungent smell of lineament, or maybe camphor, saturated the air. “Take your shirt off.”
“That stinks like hell,” I said, curling my nose.
Oliver stood up and dipped his finger in the tin, pulling out a blob of yellowish-looking glop. “Shut up and sit down.”
I pulled my shirt over my head and sat on the edge of the seat. “If you get fresh with me, I’m gonna nut-punch you.”
Oliver snorted as he smeared the smelly grease on my shoulder. My teeth sank into the fleshy part of my cheek to keep from cursing as he applied it over my collarbone.
The smell was so strong that my eyes watered. “What the hell is that stuff?”
There was no getting away from the smell. No matter how far I turned my head, it clung to the air around me.
“That stuff is what will take the pain out and leave you with minimal bruising. You’re lucky he didn’t break your collarbone when he kicked you,” Oliver said, tossing the can on the table and walking over to wash his hands at the sink.
I pulled the can across the table, looking it over, but there was no label. Oliver plucked it from my hand, putting it back in his bag.
His computer dinged as he slid back behind it. A smirk crossed his face when he looked up at me. “They just picked up Ed.” The computer dinged again. “And the bodyguard too.”
I scowled, pulling my shirt back on, and turned on the seat to face him. “Yeah, well, what if they don’t have enough evidence to keep him locked up?”
His eyebrow arched, and he settled back into his seat. “Trust me when I tell you Ed probably won’t see the light of day anytime soon. If ever.”
“And what about Murphy? Is she just supposed to take everyone’s word about that? How does that give her any closure on what Ed did today… what he’s done before?”
Oliver closed the laptop screen, linking his hands on top of it. “Like any survivor, Murphy just has to be reassured that she’s safe. Right now, what everyone is doing for her? That’s how she’ll move on.”
That wasn’t good enough for me. “But…”
“I’m under direct order to get Murphy’s statement. I’d like you to sit with us when I talk to her. She, for whatever reason, trusts you, Jared.”
I heaved a sigh and sat back. “Trust or not, she was attacked. That’s not something she’ll just get over.”
“I’m not saying she will. But she’s strong, Jared. You can see it in her. Did you know she broke Ed’s nose?”
“She did?” Hearing that made me want to smile.
“Yes, she did. She wasn’t going to let herself be a victim. Their altercation in the bus was more like a brawl. That’s not saying that eventually he wouldn’t have overpowered her. He was pretty damn close when Lars made it on the bus.”
“But her shirt was…”
“Ripped? Yeah, I know. She put up one hell of a fight. Did you happen to see if she was injured?”
I’d noticed the red marks on her chest, but I failed to ask her if she was hurt anywhere else. “Other than fingertip-sized bruises, I don’t know. She didn’t seem to be favoring anything…”
Oliver dug out the tin and slid it across the table. “It’s important we know what her injuries are. Send the guys up front and tell them I need to talk to them. While I have them up here, have her put this on her bruises, and see if you can get her to tell you if she’s been hurt anywhere else.”
I grabbed the tin, clenching it in my hand hard enough for the rounded edge to dig into my skin. “And what if she refuses to talk to me about it?”
“Tell her that Ed’s been picked up and the more information she can give us, the more they have on him. By now, her shock has worn off. She’s probably heading into the next phase, and my guess is it will be anger. She’ll tell you—just have patience.”
Patience. He wanted me to have patience when all I wanted to do was snatch Murphy off the couch and make a run for it.
MURPHY WAS WRAPPED HEAD TO toe against the far wall watching the movie Lars had put on, or doing a really good impression of it as far as I could tell. When I told the guys that Oliver wanted to talk to them, Murphy turned her attention to them as they filed out of the living room. Her eyes landed on me, following my movements until I sat down a few feet from her on the couch.
I had no idea how to start the conversation. What did I know about comforting a woman who’d been through what Murphy had? There were no right words. I held the tin of Oliver’s miracle ointment between my palms, bracing my elbows on my knees. My shoulder felt better, the ache only a dull throb. What the hell was I supposed to say to her? Whatever it was, I needed to get it over with because Oliver couldn’t keep the guys up front forever.
I forced myself to sit up and look at he
r. “Oliver wanted me to tell you that… uh, he wanted me to let you know that Ed was picked up.”
She clutched the blanket tighter to her. It shattered something inside of me to see her so vulnerable. “Murphy, I know this isn’t easy. I know you want to shut it all out, and I can’t say that I blame you. The guys and I… we’re trying our hardest to make this as easy for you as we can, but we’re guys… we aren’t, we can’t even begin to know how to make you feel safe again. We’ll never stop trying though. We need you to know that—we need you to understand that we’ll do everything in our power…” To what? Keep her safe? We’d done a shit job at it so far. How the hell could she trust us after that? I was making a mess out of trying to help her. Oliver should have been the one to talk to her.
I had no idea how long we sat in silence. I couldn’t face her. I couldn’t ask her to tell me about her injuries. To know that we’d failed her and were asking her to trust us not to let it happen again. I knew I wouldn’t be quick to let something like that go.
Murphy moved first. She unfolded the comforter and slid closer to me as the bus bounced its way down a rough patch of highway. When she was settled, she pulled the comforter off her shoulders and clutched her hands in her lap. I had a hard time meeting her gaze, but I forced myself too. If she could make the first move, by inching closer, I could man up and look at her.
I held up the tin in my hands, “Oliver gave me this. It’s for bruising.”
She took it from me and opened it up. The comforter fell as she dipped her finger in the tin. Pulling the T-shirt away from her chest, she slipped her hand inside. When she was done, she snapped the lid on and handed the tin back to me.
The fact that she didn’t apply it anywhere else made me feel a dash of relief, but Oliver had insisted I find out for sure what her injuries were. My throat tightened with the need to keep my mouth shut, making my words sound raspy when I spoke them. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”
Her hand sought mine, and she laced two of her fingers around my thumb. “I appreciate everyone’s concern, Jared. I’m still a little shaken, but I’m not… He didn’t… he didn’t hurt me. Not in that way. Just a few bruises and a complete mind fuck, but I’ll be all right. I just need some time.”
End Note Page 14