He drove to the address immediately, barely stopping at the red lights.
Chapter 15 - Let Your Heart Hold Fast
John's heart was in his throat. The neighborhood he walked through was distinctly unsafe, but he had failed to notice. It is possible that Air Force One could have crash landed onto the street next to him and he wouldn't have spared it a glance.
This was the address: a sprawling, ramshackle motel. Now that he was here, John noticed the disreputable state of the area. A smell of urine, and worse, was everywhere. Four large men were out front, smoking and looking at him in a less than agreeable manner.
This was the door, number 13. Long ago, it had been a bright green, but now the green paint was only visible in small strips on the grey wood of the rotting door.
He knocked. And waited.
How long he stood there, he couldn't say, before the locks started to clicks.
One... Two... Three... Four...
And then she was standing there in front of him.
A series of events occurred rapidly as soon as the door opened. Wippy appeared to see him and froze briefly. Her mouth begin to move, although if she was saying something, it was too quietly for him to hear. Finally, she seemed to crumple in on herself and began to sway gently as if about to collapse.
Fortunately, it broke him out of his trance and reaching out his arms, John wrapped her up in a tight hug and held her. She immediately began to sob.
They stood there like that, John holding Wippy up in his arms in the open doorway, for a long time without any sound but her sobbing. When she began to stutter and attempt to speak, he leaned down a little further and whispered in her ear: "I'm here." John then picked her up and walked into the room, closing the door with his heel, as he looked around the room.
The motel room was cramped and musty. Taking up the majority of the room was a small bed. He took two strides to it and sat down on the edge with her curled up in his lap, her head resting on his chest. He could feel the moisture seeping through his shirt almost immediately, but all he did was hold her with his arms motionlessly wrapped around her. They sat there like that for nearly an hour.
A few times, Wippy tried to speak to him. It was clear that she was attempting to make an apology of some sort, although only a few words came out and many of them were inaudible. Whenever she began to speak John gave her a squeeze and simply said: "I'm here." She would go silent.
Whatever she wanted to tell him, it wasn't important yet. He had found her again.
Eventually, she began to relax and breathe normally. Unsure whether she had fallen asleep, he looked down at her face. She was gazing back at him with tears in her eyes, but what he saw surprised him.
Wippy had lost weight. She was thin and painfully light in his arms. There were dark bags under her beautiful green eyes. He could see tattoos on her hands, feet, and above the neckline of her dress that hadn't been there previously. Her hair was gone. In place of the long, dark brown waves she had a short buzz cut. If possible, it made her appear even more vulnerable and hurting. John kissed the top of her head, then began to move back to stretch out on the bed with her in an attempt to answer his aching arms and back.
Slowly, they inched back until they he was lying with his head on the pillow. As John began to settle himself, she broke free from his grasp suddenly. He started in alarm, but Wippy simply sat up straight for a moment and pulled her dress over her head. Lying back down in front of him in her bra and panties, she let John spoon her. Wippy pushed her body back into his, maximizing the contact, and drew one of his arms around her stomach and the other around her chest, pulling both to hold her as tightly as possible. Then she sighed.
Thirty seconds later she was asleep.
*****
In a couple of hours, Wippy woke up and they prepared to leave. The only thing that she brought with her when they left was her wallet. She didn't want any reminders of her time there.
As soon as they arrived at his house, John took her up to his room and told her to get a shower if she wanted. They had not talked much on the way over.
While she settled in, John went down to bring his mother up to date. The conversation took a while, and then he went upstairs to check on something in his bedroom.
Chapter 16 - A Million Years
"John!" HIs mother was shouting up the stairs to him, "John!"
"Yeah?"
"Is she still taking a shower? I can't get any hot water in the kitchen."
"I don't know, Mom, I'll check."
He looked at his watch. It had been more than an hour since they arrived. Terrible possibilities flashed through his head, and suddenly John was scrambling towards the bathroom door. Coming out of his room so panicked, he tripped on a suitcase in the doorway and fell, but was up and moving towards the bathroom before his wrist even began to hurt from the impact.
Opening the door, with his eyes averted slightly, he called her name. The only response was the sound of the shower. He moved towards the curtain. This was as bad as when he was nine and convinced that the closet held a monster. Opening that door with the light off at night had nearly made his heart stop.
When he opened the curtain, he breathed a sigh of relief, quickly followed by an expression of concern. She was lying in a fetal position in the end of tub with the water raining down on her, continuously. Without a second thought, John stepped into the tub and knelt over her. The water was ice cold. She was sobbing silently.
John reached back to the faucet and turned off the water, then sat down in the tub and once again collected her in his arms just as he had done at the motel. After a few minutes, the sobbing slowed and when it did, he could feel her shivering. There was no way to know how long the hot water had been gone. He was soaked through his clothes, from head down to his shoes. Knowing that he was probably doing more to hurt than help with the shivering, John stood up quickly and stepped out of the tub.
He stripped down to his skin and quickly toweled himself off, finishing by wrapping the towel around his waist.
"Wippy, get up please. I'll dry you off." His voice was as gentle as he could make it. He pulled insistently up on her elbow. "Get up. You're freezing."
She straightened, slowly, and stepped out of the tub to stand before him, naked. Wippy didn't move while he toweled her off like he would a child. He had never seen her naked before, but even so the change was obvious. Her ribs were visible. He could see that her pubic area was shaved. There were razor burn, shaving nicks, and cuts visible.
She continued to shiver after he was finished drying her, so John wrapped the towel around her and then picked her up. He didn't know what else to do. She obviously was freezing, but she neither spoke nor looked him in the eye. He needed to warm her up and he also needed to keep an eye on her. John carried Wippy into his bedroom and lay her on the bed before covering her with a blanket. Removing his own towel, he pulled on a pair of boxers, then climbed into bed behind her and wrapped his arms tightly around her, imitating how she had previously seemed to want him to in the motel.
Slowly, her breath began to slow down and he could feel her skin begin to warm up in his arms.
Another sigh of relief. Finally at peace, John drifted to sleep.
*****
When John woke, his arms were sore, but for the first time that he could remember, he felt happy at the moment that he came awake. Looking down on the girl in his arms, he marvelled at the smile on her face as she slept.
Wippy had rolled onto her back while she slept and now had her face turned towards him on the pillow. Staring at her face, he recognized something that he had not seen before. Down the cheekbone from the outer edges of her eye, she had tear drop tattoos in white ink, three to a side. Invisible in most situations, in the bright morning sun they made it appear that she had been crying and so the tear stains were still visible.
Intrigued, he began to examine her other tattoos, moving her gently when needed to view one. On the inside of her left wrist, the words 'First Love' were visible in script. On her right wrist, 'Last Love'. Along the hairline from her left ear to the back of her neck, the words 'The heart has its reasons which reason knows not' were written. On the right side of her graceful neck, he could see an endless knot in green ink.
Glancing further down, on her left breast, just above the nipple was "JACK" in large letters. (He stopped breathing for a moment when he saw that one.) Wrapped around her left leg, from the top of her foot up to her hip and covering part of her back was an elaborate tattoo of a flowering vine in green and red. A few inches above and to the right of her cunt, he could see a small lock tattooed. Finally, along the first knuckles of her fingers, positioned so that she could read them if she held her hands up to her face, palms out, were the words "HOLD FAST".
Not knowing why, John began to lightly trace his fingers along her tattoos, following the patterns with his fingers. After a few moments, she began to stir and wake up. Opening up her eyes, she stared at him as he continued to trace the art on her body.
"John, I'm sorry. I know that I'm not what you fantasized about anymore."
He continued to trace her tattoos, even rolling her over on to her stomach so that he could trace the ivy on her back.
"John, I know that you liked how I looked before. Before... before the tattoos, and before I got so skinny." Her voice was quiet.
He continued to trace the tattoos with his fingers, as he began to kiss and caress another tattoo with lips.
She started to rise, and he finally spoke.
"Wippy, do you remember what I told you the first thing I noticed about you was?" He did not stop tracing.
"My ass?" Her voice was tentative, with more than a note of desperation.
"Yes... I was a fool. It doesn't matter what you wear, or how you appear. Your significance has nothing to do with those minor details. When I think of your smile, I feel as if I can't breathe. When I go to sleep, I wish to God that it was with you whispering in my ear, and when I wake up and find myself alone, without you, I wonder why I should bother."
Leaning over, he nuzzled the back of her neck gently. He spoke softly, asking her, "When you arrived, did you wonder why my Mom let you stay, and sleep in my room?"
"Yes." They were whispering now.
"When you left, it was difficult. I failed my classes, even though I had A's up until then. I was depressed, unable to focus on anything but finding you. And then, I was unable to focus on anything at all.
"When my Mom dragged me to the doctor they diagnosed me with depression... not exactly the most challenging diagnosis they've ever made. They also told me that I struggle with ADD. It's why my grades never match up to expectations and why I've never stuck with anything for more than 6 months.
"So when I brought you in, I told my Mom that you were someone who had suffered some significant trauma in her past." He paused to kiss the back of her neck. "And I told her that you were the reason that I succeeded early last semester and that you leaving was the reason that I failed in the end.
"So I never want to hear you tell me that you think I love you for your ass or your tits or your skin... although there is always something to be said for that ass."
Just like that, it seemed that a switch has been flipped. Scooting off the bed, he turned and gave her a playful smack on the bare butt before striding towards the door.
"I am going to take a shower and then make you some breakfast, missy. The only ribs I want to see are covered in barbecue and I think that might be too kinky, even for you." He strode out of the room.
Lying on her stomach, Wippy seemed to finally exhale, as if she had been unable to breathe the whole time John was talking. She slumped down on the bed; all the tension leaving her body in one rush. She was smiling, but the pillow beneath her face was being soaked through by tears.
Chapter 17 - Suicide Girl
Pausing in the task of preparing an omelet, John saw her standing in the kitchen doorway, wrapped in a towel. He flashed her a grin, "Hey Toots, I'm making breakfast. Tell me, would you like some omelet with your cheese?"
She had something else on her mind. "I don't have anything to wear. We left all of my clothes back in the motel, but I wouldn't want to wear any of them now anyways."
He paused for a moment, uncertain, then responded, "My parents left on vacation this morning. They will be gone all week so there really isn't a dress code. Feel free to look through my closet and pick anything you like. You are free to all of my sartorial splendor."
He turned back to his omelets.
A few minutes later, Wippy came down the stairs. She was wearing one of his flannel shirts with the sleeves rolled up. It was tightly buttoned;, she was obviously aware of just how roomy it was on her and the effect that would have on the neckline. When she sat down, he saw that she was wearing a pair of his briefs with the waistband rolled up a number of times so that they would stay up.
He was speechless. Without being able to stop the thought, he wondered how someone so could look so vulnerable and yet so fuckable at the same time. He dismissed the thought as quickly as he could.
