First Night

Ten

trigger warning.

Max had blood on his knuckles. They were angrily clenching the steering wheel as he weaved in and out of the streets of New York like a professional street racer. He maneuvered the town car like it was a Ferrari and they were in front of Sharon's office in no time. Max never got out of the car and went inside with her. But today, he turned the car off and opened the door for her. Once he saw that she was still wrapped in a sheet, he took off his suit jacket and helped her into it. The humongous jacket covered her ripped dress and her exposed bra. Max never touched her. But today he wrapped his arms around her as he led her inside of the building.

"I just want to go home," Demi whimpered, but Max didn't care.

Sharon was still in her office, sitting behind her desk like she always was. Her facial expression didn't even change when Max came into her office. She didn't even flinch at the condition of one of her best girls.

"Sharon, you know I don't usually get involved in these matters. I drive the girls and mind my business. But part of my job is also to protect them. I can't do that if you're not upfront about the scum that you're sending them in to deal with." They were both shaking. But Max was shaking with anger. Demi was shaking because she was traumatized.

"Max, you're being awfully dramatic. What happened?"

"What happened is your client fucking raped her and left her for dead!" Max's voice was booming. Sharon's facial expression still didn't change.

"Well take her to the clinic to get tested and then drop her off at home. She has a job tomorrow. Demi, fax the test results after you get them," Sharon calmly stated, like it was just business as usual.

Demi had turned off her emotions as soon as Henry made it clear that he was going to take what he wanted and nothing was going to stop him. Not her tears. Not her fighting. Not her desperate pleas for him to get off of her. She had numbed herself until it was over. But watching how nonchalant Sharon was being about the whole thing caused her stomach to twist and her face to flush with rage as she stood up on her own.

"Fuck you," she spat, dropping her crushed razor on her desk before storming out of the office. She was done.

The waiting room was cold. Sterile. Even in her thick winter jacket and her cozy Ugg boots she was shivering. Maybe it wasn't from the cold. Maybe it was from the prospect of waiting for those test results or the fact that she was sure that the little blue pill that she had been given earlier was lodged in her throat and making it increasingly difficult for her to breathe. She couldn't breathe. She was shaking. She was picking at the skin around her thumb as she anxiously awaited those test results that would change her life forever. Positive and negative didn't matter. It was the simple fact that she had to take those tests in the first place when she never had to worry about them before. Or at least not this much.

"Demetria Lovato?"

The nurse who called her back was wearing a white scrub top that had multicolored butterflies all over it, and pink pants. Demi wrapped her arms around herself as she followed her back to the same examination room, sitting in the chair next to the desk where the nurse had sat down before she started clicking away on a computer.

"So, I'm printing your results out now but everything looks good."

Demi zoned out after hearing that. She didn't even remember signing up for a follow up appointment or grabbing her results. She was numb as she called a cab back to her and Trey's house. She felt like she was floating through the house as she placed the results on her nightstand and tucked herself into bed. She hadn't slept since last night...hadn't been home since the night before...hadn't seen Trey since yesterday morning. She didn't care though. All she wanted to do was sleep...peacefully. And for once she could.