Finding You Bk. 01: When Souls Collide

It was then that she detected something out of place in her new, fresh smelling bedroom. Tabby wrinkled her nose at the offensive odor that had intensified with her thrashing around. It smelled like a disgusting blend of stale sweat, cheap cologne, fried onions and alcohol and for a split second, Tabby couldn't place it. When recognition clicked into place, the revulsion hit her like a blow to the stomach and she gagged, almost throwing up.

It was Jerry.

She could smell Jerry all over her. His rank body odor had gotten onto her clothes, mixing in with the food smells from the grill. It was so strong that it was like he was in the room standing right next to her. He might as well have been, the scent triggered a full blown flashback and Tabby slipped from reality and fell headlong into a living nightmare.

Adrenaline dumped into her bloodstream, sending her panic level shooting straight through the roof. With desperate snatching fingers grabbing at her clothing, Tabby suddenly couldn't get them off of her fast enough. While tugging at the tattered remains of her shirt, her attention was diverted by flashes of bright red splotches of blood that had sprayed onto the front of the white material. She sucked in a sharp breath and her mind fizzled and overloaded, rebooting with the very real image of Jerry sneering and bleeding all over her. Petra's beautiful room dissolved, her new found sanctuary, dripped away like a painting melting in the heat. As the colour washed away, it revealed the small office back at the bar, lying hidden beneath the illusion of freedom.

Tabby felt the floor drop out from beneath her feet. She had never gotten out!

Her escape had been some perverted trick he had played on her and she was still trapped in Jerry's office. Her wild, unseeing eyes darted around the room looking for him but kept coming back to the brilliant crimson stains on her clothing. Terror and revulsion had her screaming, clawing at the shirt in such a frenzy to get it off her body that she didn't hear the seams tearing as she ripped it away.

Her bra was the next to go; Tabby saw his ham sized hands groping the satiny material and suddenly couldn't bear it touching her skin. In her delusion, it had turned into a living carpet made from thousands of miniature versions of his hands, their multitude of fingers scratching and pinching as they roamed over her breasts. Seams already weakened by Jerry's attack, Tabby grabbed at the bra and wrenched it, using almost superhuman strength to finish what Jerry had started; the shoulder straps gave way first then the frayed, narrow part joining the two cups split in two as she tugged and twisted it off of her.

Her favourite pair of jeans hadn't come out unscathed either. They were mud stained, torn in the knees and speckled by large patches of blood that had soaked into them. Tabby remembered that they had been on the floor in front of the desk, where Jerry had dropped them and he must have bled on them when she'd kneed him in the nose.

A piercing shriek startled Petra. Dropping her arm load of linen, she sprinted down the hall and into the bedroom from where the panicked scream had come from. She burst through the door to find Tabby half naked, sobbing and tearing at her jeans with frantic hands, trying to get them off. In a hysterical voice, she was screaming: "Get it off! Get it off! Get it off!" so fast that it sounded like a mantra composed of only one desperate word.

Petra ignored the awful, purple bruises covering her friend's breasts and stomach, focusing her attention on Tabby's filthy jeans and could easily see what was fuelling her panic attack. Her jeans and the shredded remains of her uniform shirt lying on the floor were both sprayed with blood. Tabby must not have noticed until just now and it had triggered a panic attack. She was in full freak out mode and Petra was scared that she was going to hurt herself in her haste to remove her clothing.

"Hey, hey, sweetie. Shhhh, let me help you." Petra spoke calmly, hiding her own fear at what her poor, sweet friend must have endured that evening.

"Get them off me!" Tabby shrieked, her face flushed and her eyes wild with terror. She had clawed at her own skin in her desperate attempt to remove the offensive clothing, gouging red streaks wherever her nails had found unprotected skin.

"I will, I promise, but you have to let me near you. Whatever it is that you think you are seeing...it isn't real, Tabby. It's a flashback, sweetie." Petra didn't think Tabby realized that she was flailing her arms in front of her like a moving shield, holding Petra at bay as she tried to get near to her to help. Poor thing, Petra thought, she looks like a tormented wild animal that had been caged for far too long.

Petra's soft words finally broke the hold of the flashback that Tabby had gotten caught up in and she blinked owlishly trying to re-establish her orientation. Petra reached out a tentative hand, taking slow, measured steps toward her as if she were approaching a spooked horse.

"You're okay, Tabs. That's it, breathe, sweetie. I'll help get those jeans off, if that's what you want." Petra stopped just short of Tabby, not attempting to touch the skittish woman until she acknowledged her and gave her permission. She knew that Tabby had to allow the contact and be aware that it was Petra and not Jerry who was touching her, or else it could send her into another blind panic attack.

"Will you let me help you, Tabby?"

Tabby darted her gaze all around her then focused on Petra, staring at her in bewilderment. It took her a few seconds before recognition filtered through the adrenaline frying her synapses. Petra saw the moment that Tabby returned back to the present by the way her entire body sagged in place. She swayed alarmingly and Petra jumped forward, ready to catch her should she collapse. Tabby stumbled half a step but quickly righted herself and seemed to recover her equilibrium, becoming more stable despite the tremors shaking her entire body.

"Please," she whispered. "I can't get them off, Petra. I need to take them off." She sounded so pitiful and forlorn that Petra felt her own heart shatter in sympathy.

"Of course, sweetie. Here, let me undo that button and we will get rid of these things, okay?" Tabby nodded in response and allowed Petra to untie her boot laces so that she could remove her muddy boots. Then, she slipped the button through the buttonhole and slowly slid the jeans over Tabby's hips and down her legs. A mottled, patchwork of bruises were hidden under a layer of dried muck that was splattered all the way up to her thighs and Petra saw that she wasn't wearing any underwear. Tabby had said that Jerry hadn't had a chance to force himself on her, but what had happened to her panties? Petra swallowed against a sour taste and wondered if Tabby had lied about not being forced into having intercourse with her boss after all.

Tabby was murmuring something so quietly that Petra didn't catch the words the first few times she had uttered them. Straining her hearing, it frightened her to hear Tabby repeating: "It's only Petra. It's only Petra," over and over under her breath, attempting to reassure herself as Petra undressed her.

I don't care what she says, Petra thought. I am calling Diego the minute she's in the shower. This needs to be taken care of right away! That asshole needs to be caught and punished before he does this to another woman.

"Are you okay to get into the shower, Tabs? I can stay with you if you want me too," Petra offered, gathering up the discarded clothing in her arms. Tabby looked stricken; her eyes glued to the evidence of her assault bundled in Petra's arms.

Petra could see Tabby sliding back into panic and called out to her. "Tabs? You still with me, sweetie. Come on," she caught Tabby's gaze and redirected hers up to meet Petra's eyes and away from the blood-stained clothing that she held. "There you are." She smiled as soon as Tabby made eye contact with her.

"I can shower by myself," Tabby said absently, slowly shaking off the terrified jitters.

"Okay, then I'll leave you to it. I'll put the towels just outside the door for you." Petra watched Tabby walk heavily into the bathroom, then turned to leave. Before she left the room, Tabby called out quietly to her.

"Petra?"

"Yes, sweetie? What's the matter?"

"I-I just wanted to say, um, thanks, you know. I didn't know what I would have done if you hadn't come for me." Tabby paused and blinked away a stray tear that clung to her eyelashes. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," she nodded in the direction of the shower. "Now get yourself under that hot water. You'll feel much better once you get cleaned off."

Tabby looked lost for a moment then backed into the bathroom and closed the door.

Petra waited until she heard the shower start up then rushed down the hall and into her kitchen. She took out a clean trash bag and deposited Tabby's soiled clothing into it. Everything was covered in evidence that she knew the police would need if there was to be any chance of prosecuting the bastard who had attacked her friend.

Her next task was to scavenge through her purse in search of her cellphone. She looked up Diego's number and found him under an entry simply entitled "Master". She dialled and waited impatiently for him to pick up, one ear trained on the sounds coming from Tabby's bedroom. The shower was still running so Petra still had time. She sighed in relief when she heard the call connect and Diego came on the line, worry straining his voice.

"Petra? What's wrong?" His deep, sexy voice never ceased to send a thrill through her body and this time was no different. Her core hummed with desire despite the serious nature of her call.

"Master, I need your help. Something bad has happened to my friend Tabitha and I don't know what to do," she blurted out in a rush, suddenly feeling the anxiety that she had been holding back, bubble forth in an uncontrolled rush of emotion.

"Hey there, slow down. Take a breath and then tell me what's happened," he replied and his calm, controlled manner helped Petra settle her own nerves so that she could recount to her partner the terrible events of the night, feeling sicker as she spoke.

"She doesn't want to report the assault, but, Master, she's in shock and I think it would be a huge mistake if she doesn't." Petra was close to tears and her voice choked up on the sobs that she was fighting to keep away.

"I agree, love. You did the right thing in calling me. As it would happen, the other Masters are all here with me. Let me talk to them and then I'll head on over, okay?" He paused. "I take it that she doesn't know you've called me, correct?"

"Yes, Sir. I waited until she got into the shower. She's so desperate to keep this to herself but I just couldn't keep this secret for her, Sir. She's going to hate me when she finds out." Petra said, feeling tears spring to her eyes.

"Maybe at first, but she'll get over it once that creep is arrested and charged. Don't mention that I'm coming over, love. Just try to keep her calm. I'll be there as soon as possible." He chuckled and his voice softened, filling with pride and love. "Have I mentioned what a good girl you are? I'm glad that you kept your head about you tonight, Tabitha is a very lucky woman to have you...as am I. See you soon."

Petra's brain quit working after she heard the words, 'good girl'. It was as if it prompted a preconditioned response to preen and glow with pleasure whenever her Master called her that. It filled her with butterflies and simmering arousal to know she had made him proud of her. She would need to hold onto those warm, fuzzy feelings once he arrived. She had a sinking feeling that Tabby was not going to take her perceived betrayal very well, considering how adamant she'd been not to call the police. Two of the other Masters were police and Petra was relieved that her Master would be bringing real help with him.

Petra gathered up the linen that she had dropped and took them to Tabby's room. She listened quietly at the door, but only heard the shower running. She tapped lightly, not wanting to startle Tabby. "Tabby, you okay in there?" she called through the closed door.

"Yes. Thanks, Petra," Tabby replied, her tired voice almost drowned out by the pulsing shower head.

"I'm leaving your towels on the chair by the door. Holler if you need anything, okay?"

"Okay," Tabby's called back and Petra left her in privacy.

Inside the bathroom, Tabby sat huddled on the floor of the shower, bruised arms wrapped around bent knees, hugging them tightly to her body for comfort. Her eyes were red rimmed and swollen from crying and her bottom lip was bitten and bloody from using her teeth to try to hold back the screams that choked her. It had taken a massive effort on her part just to keep her voice somewhat normal and answer Petra. She didn't want to worry her friend any more than she already had that evening.

She shook uncontrollably, despite the steaming water that cascaded over her. She'd scrubbed herself raw but couldn't get the feeling of being dirty off her skin, no matter how much she tried. She scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed and still could feel Jerry's hands on her, touching her like she was a piece of meat and not a human being. The tears had started up again and the force of the wracking sobs had made her collapse, unable to do more than surrender herself to the misery boiling like toxic sludge inside her gut.

'You can't keep falling apart like this,' she scolded herself silently, as if the uncontrollable crying jags where somehow offensive to her. She was angry and disappointed with herself for being so weak.

'This is the last time,' she vowed. 'Cry it out now, Tabs, after this, you are done with this shit!'

And that's exactly what she did.

Giving herself permission to fall apart, Tabby let the tears flow freely, crying so hard that she couldn't breathe for all the pain and humiliation that came out with the salty droplets. After what seemed to be an eternity, the waterworks tapered then stopped as her body simply ran out of tears to shed, leaving her feeling hollow, drained but oddly cleansed at the same time. Her mind was working furiously to shore up her battered defences and put the terrible events of the night into perspective; to bring reason to such an irrational act.

'It wasn't your fault, Tabs. You gotta believe that. You did nothing to deserve it. That is all on Jerry.'

'He hurt you.'

'He scared you. But at least he didn't succeed in raping you. You fought back, girlfriend! You fought back and survived.'

'Bad things happened to good people because there are bad people in this world. Jerry was one of those bad people.'

'You will get through this. You will get over this and eventually, you will forget that this ever happened. But to do so, you have to pull yourself out of this despair first.'

Once her mental monologue was over, Tabby felt calmer and stronger, clinging to the words she had told herself. She got clumsily to her feet, her body stiff and aching from sitting hunched on the shower floor, turned off the water and stepped out. The towels were right where Petra had said they'd be and she grabbed the stack and brought them back into the bathroom with her. She wrapped herself in a soft, fluffy towel, closing her eyes in delight at the feeling of good quality cotton caressing her skin.

Those sure beat the thread bare, second hand ones she had at her place.

She still couldn't believe that Petra had wanted her to move in with her. 'How had she gotten so lucky? It seemed strange the way the universe strived to keep things balanced,' she mused to herself.

Something terrible followed by something almost too good to be true.

Petra's offer had brought the heavy scales back into equilibrium, negating the effect of Jerry's maniacal behaviour - in theory anyway. It was simplistic, but Tabby was grasping at anything that would help ground her and help her deal with the fact that she'd been attacked.

Though she had convinced herself that her pep talk had helped, in actuality, she was still sliding down the slippery slope of denial; digging her nails in anywhere she could to slow her descent. In her fragile mind, she saw the scales back in balance, thus, there was no balance owing so she could stop paying the emotional toll. It helped her push the attack into a back corner of her mind where, hopefully, time would help erase it completely from her memory.

After drying off and wrapping another thick towel around her wet hair, Tabby padded out into the bedroom on bare feet. On the bed lay a clean t-shirt and her pair of flannel sleep pants. Petra must have unpacked her overnight bag and laid the clothes out for her. She dressed quickly, wanting to cover up the bruises so that she wouldn't have to acknowledge what they represented and then ran her fingers through her tangled curls, getting them to straighten into a roughly neater mass of chestnut and auburn. Taking a brush through it right now, would only leave her with a head full of frizz by morning, so her fingers would have to do the trick.

She needed a drink before turning in and left her room. She walked down the hall and froze half way to the living room as soft voices drifted down the long hallway and halted her with a fresh burst of panic. There were male voices as well as Petra's speaking so quietly that she couldn't make out any of the words.

Who could be there? It had to be almost four in the morning and Tabby couldn't think of anyone who'd be visiting at that hour. She felt a tendril of suspicion wind its nasty way around her chest, suspecting what Petra had done and feeling bitter anger and betrayal replace the fragile calm she had achieved.

Petra appeared at the entrance to the hall and the smile on her face fell into a grimace of apology. "Tabby," she said carefully. "Please don't be mad. I had to call Diego. I couldn't hide this from him and baby...you need his help," she pleaded, holding out her hand to encourage Tabby to come forth.

"Why?" Tabby croaked, her voice thin and brittle. "I asked you not to, Petra. I can't go through this again. Please don't make me..." Tabby whimpered and a small, cowardly part of her wished that she could just turn around and run back to safety of the bedroom. She stood frozen in place for a moment, while an internal war raged inside her: the weak, fearful part of Tabby's personality shrunk away, wanting nothing more than to find a safe place to hide, while a more determined aspect surfaced and asserted its control. In her heart, Tabby did not want to be broken, giving a monster the satisfaction of destroying her, so it overrode the urges of her weaker counterpart and compelled her to take one shaky step toward Petra.

One small step turned into another and then another, her entire body shaking like a leaf in a breeze the entire time. She reached Petra then moved cautiously past her. As she did, she felt a warm hand slide into hers and she looked up at her friend, seeing hope and encouragement shining in her eyes.

Tabby gave Petra a nod, offering a small token of forgiveness to her friend. Petra squeezed her hand in acceptance. "Ready?"

Tabby took a deep breath, hoping to calm the nerves in her stomach. "No, but let's get it over with anyway."

They walked hand in hand until they reached the entrance to the living room and Tabby was able to peer out around the corner and see what awaited her. Milling around the room were three big men - Diego, whom she recognized and two others that she didn't, all were drinking coffee and looking in her direction with concern and curiosity lining their handsome faces.

Diego smiled, set his mug down on the coffee table and slowly approached. He had a kind face with a shadow of stubble darkening his Hispanic features. He stopped beside Petra and wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her to him, kissing the top of her head.