Sorry. This isn't very plot heavy, which is kind of typical for me. It's more just Troy and Gabriella interacting. I don't know if it's believable at all, but it's FF so yeah…
Also, it moves kind of fast. That's because I'm bad at full-length stories.
It's an original work that's purely for FF entertainment, but I got the idea from HSM characters and The Frozen Ground's general plot – neither of which I own/have any claims to.
"She's been in and out of the foster system since she was six years old. Fifteen different houses in twelve years. Three different years with her drug addicted mother." Troy listened to Sergeant Duncan's words as they stared in at a girl who hardly seemed old enough to be eighteen. Her long black hair hung in matted curls, and tears stained her cheeks. She was shaking.
"Has she said anything?" Troy asked.
"No, and it's getting late. We've gotta find somewhere for her to stay. I've called in all my favors. I don't know where to put her, but leaving her in a cell all night just seems cruel."
Later, Troy would think about how he spoke before discerning the consequences of his actions, but for now, he turned to his superior, "Let me take her home for the night. I'll call Laura. She can stay in our guest room."
"I don't know if that's a good idea, Troy. We have no idea what she's been through, but the medics said she's got some new and old scarring in her vaginal area. She might not be comfortable near you."
"I'll call Laura and have her bring Gabriella to our place. Let me at least talk to her. She's gonna have to have someone on watch anyway. It might as well be me."
"Why are you so dedicated?"
"Look at her," Troy's voice softened, "she's terrified. I don't want her staying the night in a cell either. She's got no family and nowhere to go. She's still a kid. She could use a bath and some clothes. Laura can help her with that."
Sergeant Duncan acquiesced, "Call Laura. If she's fine with it, go talk to the girl and see if she's okay with the plan. I'll go draw up the paperwork."
XxxX
"I'm Officer Bolton," Troy sat across from Gabriella in the interrogation room. His voice was gentle, and he pushed something across the table to her, "I brought you a sweater. You look cold."
She didn't look up at him, but she crossed her arms over her breasts – shielded only by a tank top and her bra. After a minute, she allowed one cautious hand to stroke the softness of the sweater.
"I'll turn around while you put it on." He faced away from Gabriella, and by the time he turned back around, she was wrapped in purple.
"You don't have any family, Gabriella," as soon as he said it, he saw her flinch, "I mean, we couldn't find anyone to call. We want to find somewhere safe for you to stay."
Gabriella looked up at him then. She watched Troy lick his lips nervously. It made her angry. He didn't know anything about her. What did safety even mean to a girl who was almost murdered?
"I'm going to be your guard, so you'll stay at my house."
Her sharp intake of break betrayed the terror she felt. She couldn't go with him. She couldn't be alone with him.
"It…it's not just me. Laura. Laura will be there. She'll come get you, and you'll be with her for a couple of hours before I get home. She's on her way to pick you up now."
XxxX
Laura was a strawberry blonde with green eyes and a wary smile. She looked to be in her early or mid-twenties. The same as Officer Bolton. She must be his wife, or maybe his girlfriend. She wasn't wearing a ring. Gabriella watched Laura and Officer Bolton speak, but she couldn't hear them. His office door was closed. She was glad for the window, though. She was good at reading body language. She was good at telling if people were good.
Gabriella had known that the man from before was bad. She could feel it even before he asked to buy her a drink. That's why she had declined. It was also why she had left the bar. It had not stopped him from following her, though.
Gabriella watched Officer Bolton press a quick kiss to Laura's small mouth before reaching around her to open the door.
"Gabriella, Laura's made up our guest room for you. You'll have your own bathroom, and she's picked up a few pairs of clothes for you. I'll be home in a couple of hours. Here's a cell phone for you. It has my office and cell. It has Laura's cell too." He handed her the small phone, allowing his fingers to brush lightly against hers, and Gabriella was surprised to find that his touch didn't scare her. She didn't like it. She didn't like that he was touching her, but she wasn't scared of him either.
"C'mon, Gabriella," Laura beckoned her.
XxxX
"This is the room you'll stay in," Laura explained. She was nice enough. She had let Gabriella choose the radio stations on the ride to their home, and she had stopped at McDonald's to get something for Gabriella to eat.
Their house was small and neat. It smelled like peaches. It was one level, and Gabriella's room was right down the hall from Laura and Officer Bolton's room. Her room was painted cream with pale blue accents that matched her comforter. It was very plain, but it looked comfortable enough – like a hotel room.
"The door to the bedroom locks. So does your bathroom door," Laura explained. "The windows are locked too, but you can open them in the day time if you want. They let in a nice breeze. I wasn't sure of your size, but I got some clothes for you. They're in the drawers. Mostly just jeans and t-shirts. I did get you some under things and pajamas too. If you need anything, just let me know. I'll be making some dinner for Troy."
Gabriella nodded. She'd yet to speak to anyone. It didn't feel right just yet, and something told her that Laura wasn't the first person she needed to speak with. She needed to speak with Officer Bolton – Troy.
XxxX
The warm water felt good. She'd been sitting under the stream from the shower for at least thirty minutes. She had already washed herself, remembering the little pleasures of being able to run her fingers through clean hair almost made her sob, but she'd cried silently instead, allowing the hot water to wash away her tears. She wanted to sit in the water until it began to run cold. Until then, she'd relish it. He'd had her for two weeks. She hadn't bathed the entire time. Hadn't been able to wash him off of her body. Her whole body smelled like vanilla now. Even her hair. She noticed that it was longer. Or maybe she was imagining that. Could it really grow longer in just two weeks? But it just seemed like it had. It would be shorter once it dried, but wet tendrils hung to her waist right now. Her hair hadn't been that long the last time she washed it.
The first spray of cold water signaled that she should get out of the shower. Her pale skin was pink and flushed as she dried herself and applied lotion. Then, she brushed her hair. It was definitely longer.
Her pajamas were too big, but they were soft. Just like the carpet and her bed. Everything was soft, but she couldn't sleep. There were too many small noises. She sat up and slid on a pair of socks before unlocking her bedroom door. All the lights were off, so she padded softly down the hallway, remembering where the kitchen was.
The microwave read 4:53AM. The last time she had looked at a clock was when she was escorted out of the hospital and into the interrogation room. That clock had read 10:16AM. Eighteen hours and thirty-seven minutes.
She poured herself a glass of milk, but as she closed the refrigerator and turned around, she dropped it. Shattering glass and liquid.
Troy turned on a small lamp, "What are you doing?" His voice wasn't accusatory, just curious.
Tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.
"Hey, hey," Troy reached out his hand for her, but withdrew it upon recognition that it wasn't a smart move, "I didn't mean to scare you. I heard a noise. I wanted to check it out."
"I…," she coughed for lack of vocal use, "I was hungry. I'm sorry." She moved to go back to her room, but lodged a shard of glass in her foot.
She cried out this time. It was the first time she had cried aloud since the first time the man had raped her.
"Easy there," Troy's voice was surprisingly soothing. He approached her slowly, careful of the glass, "I'm going to pick you up, Gabriella, but I promise I'll sit you down as soon as we're out of the kitchen. It looks like you've cut it pretty bad."
Gabriella nodded, "Okay."
Troy scooped her up bridal style. Gabriella felt the rise and fall of his muscular chest. His bare arms were warm and sturdy, but he held her gently. She felt like he was good. He felt good.
"I'm gonna go get the first aid kit and towel from my bathroom. If we can stop the bleeding, I don't think you'll need stitches." Troy sat her on the sofa and turned on another little lamp.
He came back in less than a minute, closing the door to his room. "Good thing Laura is a heavy sleeper," he smiled.
Gabriella brushed her loose curls out of her face, and tucked them shyly behind her ear. She stared at Troy as he removed the remnants of glass from her foot, cleaned the cut, and bandaged her wound.
"Wanna watch some TV? I'll make you something to eat." He handed her the remote control.
"Thank you." It was the second time Gabriella had spoken to him, and the look on his face reminded him of the way her six year old foster sister had looked when their foster mom said she wanted to adopt the little girl. That was silly, though. Why would he be that happy to talk to her? Gabriella knew that she wasn't anything special. Just some girl that was easy to take advantage of. An easy target.
"What kind of food do you like?" Troy was talking to her again.
"Anything," she shrugged. Three.
"Grilled cheese and soup?"
"Yeah." Four.
XxxX
"You should get some rest. Laura will bring you down to the station around noon tomorrow." Troy watched her eat. She wouldn't look at him as he spoke, but he could see dark circles beneath her eyes.
"You can't sleep can you?" Troy asked her.
Her eyes rose to meet his then. Despite whatever had happened, she had a wide-eyed innocence about her. Or maybe it wasn't innocence, because who could have any innocence left after being found the way she was? It was something though. Something in her brown, doe-y expression.
"No," Gabriella replied, but then she offered more, "you wouldn't be able to either if…" she trailed off, taking a sip of water to wash the lump down her throat.
"Do you want me to, uh," Gabriella watched him scratch the back of his neck, a blush creeping from his neck into his cheeks. He looked very young to her then. He sighed before laying his palm flat against the table so that his fingertips could brush Gabriella's, "I don't want to scare you, Gabriella. I don't know what happened, but I know it was bad, and I know that being anywhere near me might be a trigger. I'm a stranger, and even though I'm a cop, I can't make you feel safe. I don't know what to do, but if you think that you would feel at least a little safer with me sleeping on your floor to keep watch, or whatever, I'll do it."
Gabriella bit the corner of her lip, "You don't speak like a cop."
"Sorry," Troy apologized, but Gabriella shook her head, signaling that it wasn't necessary.
"You're right. I don't feel completely safe. Being near anyone feels dangerous right now because everything feels dangerous," her hand trembled as she pressed her fingertips more firmly to Troy's, "But I think you're good. Will you sleep on my floor? At least for a couple of hours before you have to leave for work?"
Troy looked at the clock. 6:02AM. Usually he got up at 7:00AM so that he could be on time for work at 8:00AM. "I can be late tomorrow."
XxxX
"I'll go grab some bedding and then come back," Troy left her sitting on her bed, arms clutching a spare pillow. She was bathed in the glow of the desk lamp that she requested to keep on while they slept. She wasn't looking at him, so Troy indulged in a longer observation of Gabriella. She was pretty. Her black hair was curlier than it was at the station. Longer too. Her pajamas were too big, but she was soft and curvy beneath. After a bath and meal, she was beginning to look more like a woman and less like a kicked puppy. The pink of her cheeks betrayed the innocence (or something) that he'd seen in her eyes as well.
Troy turned around to exit the room. It didn't take him long to grab enough bedding to make his place on her floor.
"I'll set an alarm for eleven. It's not long, but it's something."
Gabriella snuggled down into her blankets, "Officer Bolton? Will you hold my hand?" The question surprised her. She wasn't sure why she asked it. Being touched scared her, but not knowing if he was really there scared her even more. She was so tired. She wanted to close her eyes, but she wanted to know that he was still there.
"Yeah. Yeah, I can do that." He reached up his hand so that he could lace his fingers through Gabriella's. "I'm right here." He assured.
XxxX
Troy woke up to a tingling in his arm and the smell of vanilla in his face. He opened his eyes to see that Gabriella was still clutching his fingers in both of her hands. She was on the edge of the bed, and her hair was dangling in his face. His alarm hadn't sounded yet, but it would in two minutes. Until then, he'd just let Gabriella sleep.
"Good morning," he turned to the sound of Laura's voice. She was stood in the doorway, an apprehensive smile on her face. "I wondered where you were this morning, then I saw you on the floor."
"Yeah," his voice was scratchy and quiet, "She couldn't sleep. She asked me to stay with her."
He couldn't say more before his alarm went off and Gabriella jolted awake.
"Hey, it's okay." He sat up, his free hand brushing a few curls from her face. "You're okay."
"Did you hold my hand all night?"
"Loss of circulation to prove it."
"Thank you. The nicest almost five hours of sleep I've had in two weeks."
"I'll leave you to get ready. We'll eat breakfast and then head down."
"Am I riding with you?"
"Only if you want."
"I think I want to ride with Laura."
XxxX
"Gabriella, I'm going to record our conversations. I know that you don't want to relive it, but we can't catch whoever did whatever they did to you if you don't tell us." Troy explained.
"I'll try."
"Thank you."
"I...I know his face. I'll never forget it. I can describe it." Her words were soft and shy.
"I'll get a sketch artist. Do you want to tell me anything else while we wait?"
"I don't really remember where he took me. Somewhere out in the woods. A cabin with lots of hunting things." She licked her lips. "He, uh, he drugged me. At first he didn't at all. I think he wanted to hear me cry, see me struggle, but then he got angry, because I stopped crying. He told me, 'If you aren't gonna play, then you can sleep.' I don't know how long it was, but eventually he drugged me less. He liked to watch me come to as he did it. He liked to see me scared to have him on top of me." She was crying now. Big tears dripping off of her face.
"Can I have some water, Officer Bolton?"
"Of course. I'll get you some. I'll call the sketch artist too."
He rose to leave, but she reached for his fingers, "Do I have to stay in here by myself?"
"I'll just be a minute. I'll leave the door open for you."
"Okay."
XxxX
"I'll call Laura to come pick you up. I'm sure you're hungry and tired."
"I'll ride back with you. You don't have to call her."
"Really?" Troy didn't try to hide his surprise.
XxxX
"How was it with her today?" Laura asked. She was changing into her pajamas.
"Pretty good," Troy wasn't at liberty to tell her much. "I want to get her a therapist to talk to while we're working on the case. We got some information about physical appearance and history. It was tough on her. Speaking of which, I kind of want to go check on her. I don't know if she'll want me to sleep on watch again."
"Yeah. You should go check on her." She was braiding her hair now, eyes downcast. Troy knew the look well.
"Have I told you how much I appreciate your help with all this?" Troy pulled her into his embrace, "For getting Gabriella all situated, and for dealing with all of the craziness. I know it's not easy."
Laura offered him a smile, "Thanks for saying that," she kissed him. "I needed to hear that. It's not so bad. Gabriella seems sweet. I'm just a little nervous because we really don't know anything about her."
Troy caressed her cheek, "We know she's an eighteen year old girl who was found barricaded in a motel room. We know that she was sexually abused. We know that she has to be incredibly brave to have made it this far," Laura watched his eyes soften with adoration for the young woman in the next room.
"We do," she agreed, "and I'm glad that you asked to bring her here. I'm glad we can help her. Go make sure she's all right. If you're not back, I'll assume she needs you."
This time Troy kissed Laura.
XxxX
"Tell me a story, please," Gabriella was clutching Troy's hand again. The same as she had done for the past eight nights. The difference, however, was that she'd asked to purchase a night light on the way to his home. She wanted to try sleeping without the desk lamp. When Troy had turned the lamp off, she began shaking. He could still feel the tremble in her hands as she held his.
"About what?"
"You. Your family. Tell me something real. Something nice."
"Hmm," he sighed contentedly at the memory, allowing himself the opportunity to run his thumb over her knuckles affectionately. "My favorite memory is kind of small, but I think about it all the time."
"What is it?"
"I have a younger sister. Six years younger. When my mom was pregnant with her, I remember having conversations with my parents about how I was getting a new little sister. I remember talking about that all the time. The funny thing is, though, I don't remember my mom being pregnant. I know she was. We've got some pictures. She's even told me that she got pretty big with that pregnancy, but I don't remember it. The day she went to the hospital, I had to stay with my grandmother. She just lived two houses up the street," he felt Gabriella turn her body so that she was closer to him, once again, her long hair falling to dangle near his face.
He continued his story, "She told me I could play in my yard, because she could see me from hers. I had a swing set and toys. She told me I couldn't go in the backyard, though. My favorite toy was a ball. I was playing with it, and it rolled into the backyard. I went to get it, and as soon as I was back in the front yard, my grandmother spanked me. She made me come to her house, and I had to go to the guest room for a nap, because I couldn't stop crying. I tried to explain to her what I was doing, but she wouldn't listen.
"This is supposed to be a happy story," Gabriella's voice lilted in reminder.
"It is. I'm not done. I woke up a few hours later, and my mom was back from the hospital. There were so many people at our house. At least thirty, and all there to see Cora. But as soon as I got there, my mom held out her arms for me to come over. She had this beautiful look on her face. So much love. She looked right at me and said, 'Come meet your new sister, Troy.' And everything else just kind of fell away. I crawled up onto the sofa with my mom. She kissed me, and she handed me Cora."
Gabriella let out a rich breath of contentment, settling into her blankets and pillows. "Thank you for telling me that story, Officer Bolton."
"Troy," he corrected her.
"Troy," she said before she drifted off into sleep.
XxxX
Troy woke up to the sound of Gabriella gasping for air. He sat up quickly to see her with tears on her face and a wet pillow. Her eyes were closed.
"Gabriella," he dislodged his hand from hers so that he could gently wake her, "Gabriella, can you hear me? You're dreaming. Wake up."
A deep, loud gasp for air woke her, and she began crying loudly, "He was here. Right here in your house, and he was holding me down. You couldn't hear me screaming. He was…he was…he…he," she lunged toward Troy, throwing her arms around his neck.
Without a thought, he embraced her, running his fingers through her hair. "Shh. Shh. I'm here. Right here. No one else. Just us. I won't hurt you."
He felt her nod, "I know. I know. It just felt so real."
He brought her face into his hands, thumbs rubbing tears away before they could slip to her chin. "We'll catch him, Gabriella. He isn't going to ever hurt you again."
She flung herself at him again, wanting only to be held by someone who was good. He wrapped his arms around her, feeling her breath against his neck. She felt fragile in his arms.
XxxX
"Why do you think of the memory of your sister all the time?" Gabriella asked as she rode back to Troy's house with him. They had gone over the details of her case for six of the nine hours they were at the station. Two more had been spent with a therapist, and one was used as a lunch break. She seemed so small now, after going over details of her attack and kidnap over and over and over. She'd repeated the horrific details so many times that she began to taste the duct tape against her lips again, she felt the sting of ropes around her wrists again. She had thrown up once during the recounting, spurring the lunch break.
Troy glanced over at her. She was leaning with her face pressed against the glass of the passenger's window. Her eyes were closed. He had the unnerving desire to touch her, to comfort her. He wanted to hold her and stroke her hair. He wanted to tell her that everything would be okay. Today he had spent thirty minutes in the bathroom crying. He had been an officer for five years, but their town was quiet. It wasn't riddled with violence or heinous crimes, but listening to what had happened to Gabriella destroyed him. She was the bravest, strongest person he knew. Everything in his body told him to hold her, and to promise her the world. He knew that nothing could ever erase two weeks of physical, mental, and emotional torture. Nothing could erase the fact that someone had preyed upon her for weeks with the intention of killing her. Nothing could erase that, but she so very much deserved nothing but happiness for the rest of her time on Earth.
"I think about it, because I want children one day. I think about it, because I remember how happy I was to meet my new sister, and I can't imagine how elated I'll be one day to meet a new son or daughter."
"I think I'd like children someday too. A daughter would be nice. I'd give her all my love." Gabriella said more to herself than to Troy.
Troy glanced again at the gentle girl in the car with him. He thought that she'd make a good mother. He told her that, "I think that you'd make a good mother."
"You've known me, like, a little over a week. Why do you say that?"
"You knew me one day and decided I was good. How did you know that?" he retorted, but with a kindness that Gabriella appreciated. "Can I hold your hand?" He asked.
Silently, she placed her hand on the console so that Troy could take it.
"That's how I know you'll be a good mother." He said as he laced his fingers through Gabriella's.
Gabriella didn't understand.
XxxX
"Hey," Laura greeted Troy at the door with a kiss, causing Gabriella to blush. "I made dinner." She turned her attention to Gabriella. "I hope you like salmon, Gabriella."
Gabriella nodded.
Gabriella was sitting in an arm chair adjacent to Troy. She had an open view of Laura as she continued with dinner preparations. Gabriella thought that Laura was very pretty. She floated around her kitchen and dining room, checking side dishes, preparing place settings. She was wearing a blue dress that, Gabriella notice, looked like Troy's eyes. Their relationship was traditional. Gabriella wondered if these were the roles they each wanted to play. She didn't know the pair. At all. But Troy seemed much more nurturing outside his relationship with Laura. Or maybe it just seemed that way to Gabriella because Troy felt sorry for her. He felt sorry for everything that had happened to her. She wasn't sure. She hoped he was just nurturing by nature. The world needed more people who cared about other people.
"Everything is ready," Laura's voice jarred Gabriella from her thoughts.
Troy stood, taking Gabriella's hand as he did so. It was starting to feel like second nature – holding his hand. She had a long way to go. Years probably, but she was learning to sleep and accept human affection. Eventually she would be able to pretend she was normal.
Troy led her to the table where Laura was already sitting. He pulled her chair out for her, and pushed it in once she was seated.
"Laura is an excellent cook, Gabriella," Troy told her.
Gabriella offered a smile of appreciation to Laura, "It smells nice."
It was the first time she'd spoken to Laura, "Oh! Thank you, Gabriella."
XxxX
Gabriella waited two weeks before she said it out loud, before she whispered it into the dark, hoping that Troy would understand through her tears.
"I think I'm pregnant."
"Oh god!" He heard her. Troy turned on the little lamp before scrambling to his feet. "Oh god. Gabriella. Oh god."
His concern for her and the terror etched in his brow made her heave with sobs, "I don't want it. I don't want it. Please, Troy. I don't want it."
Somehow he ended up sitting with her on the bed. She crawled into his lap and let him hold her. More afraid of the thing growing inside of her than of the man holding her.
"We'll go to the doctor first thing, and we'll do whatever you want to do. If you don't want it, then that's what we'll do. We'll have the doctor take it away."
Her sobs had quieted into sniffles. She closed her eyes and focused on the feeling of Troy's fingers running through her hair. She remembered the way her mother had comforted her in the same way during those times that her mother was clean. Gabriella focused on his fingers and on her own breathing.
The doctor would take it away.
XxxX
Peeing in a cup, and blood tests, and ultra sounds. She was pregnant. Nightmares when she slept and nightmares when she was awake.
"You'll stay with me the whole time?" She asked Troy.
"If you want me to stay with you the whole time, then I will."
Before she could answer, her doctor walked in, a gentle expression on her face. "Hello, Gabriella. I've reviewed all of your charts and your signatures." She sat down beside Gabriella before continuing, "I'm going to walk you through the whole process before we start, and I'll walk you through the whole process again as I go through it."
"Okay."
"We'll start whenever you are ready."
"I'm ready," Gabriella looked over at Troy." He slid his chair closer to her so that he could loop his arm above her head. It reminded Gabriella of the time she'd gone on a date when she was fourteen and the boy had tried to put his arm around her shoulder. He stroked her hair with that hand. His other caressed her cheek, turning her face to his.
"Look at me," his words were sweet with the promise that everything would be okay.
As she focused on his face, she felt her doctor's gloved hands push her knees apart and situate her feet in the stirrups.
"Wait!" Gabriella screamed. Immediately her doctor removed her hands. Gabriella was looking at Troy though, "What if this is my only chance to be a mother? What if it's a girl?"
Troy's own eyes began to swim in tears. He sniffed them back in favor of kissing Gabriella's forehead, "Whatever you choose is the right choice, Gabriella." His hand slipped to her tummy. "I don't know what the future holds. I don't know if it will be a boy or a girl. I know that you will be an excellent mother when you have children, because you want to give all of your love to your children. Can you give this one all your love, Gabriella?" The question was sincere, and it was what she needed.
XxxX
"Easy there," Troy knelt so that he could scoop Gabriella into his arms. "The doctor said you would be sore for a few days." The ride home was only twenty minutes. Hardly long enough for Gabriella to think about the physical pain she'd be feeling. She'd thought of one hundred other things, though.
The front door was propped open so that Troy could carry her inside. He sat Gabriella in the recliner and pulled the lever. He then wrapped her in a blanket and handed her the television remote. She smiled up at him until he knelt beside her.
He took her hands in his, "How about some ice cream?"
Gabriella nodded.
Troy returned with two bowls and a tray of toppings.
"All for you, my lovely Gabriella," his grin was cheeky, and it made her feel a little bit better.
"When will Laura be home?"
"She works late on Tuesdays, but she should be home within the hour."
"Should we make dinner for her?"
"You should rest," Troy was close enough to ghost his fingers across the back of her hand. "And I should stay with you. How about we order pizza?"
XxxX
"I'm…I'm sorry," she tried to scramble to her feet while clutching a towel around her wet body. "I thought I heard. I thought someone was in my room." Wet hair stuck to her face. She was still trying to get off the floor, but she was shaking too violently to stand on her own.
Troy knelt beside her as Laura looked on. He didn't say anything as he brought Gabriella into his arms. He kissed her temple, "Don't be sorry. There's nothing to be sorry about." She clung to Troy. Her breathing was erratic, but her heart rate was steadily slowing.
She had been with Troy and Laura for six weeks. She had given all the information she could to the police department. Now she was under Troy's surveillance and care. In six weeks she had given up a child. In six weeks she had been meeting with a psychiatrist every Tuesday and Thursday. She was taking a mild medication for panic attacks, but ultimately she was progressing. Troy still slept on her floor. He'd even moved in a spare twin mattress to sleep on. But she didn't use the night light, and some mornings she would wake up not clutching his hand. She was getting better, but there were still occasions where overwhelming terror encompassed her.
"Let's get you dressed." Troy's voice soothed. "Laura will you help Gabriella dress while I get her medicine?" Troy aided Gabriella as she scrambled from the ground. He walked into her room to help her sit on the bed. "I'll be right back. Laura is here to help you."
Laura rummaged through Gabriella's drawers for a couple of seconds before producing the required clothing. "Lift your arms up," she instructed softly before helping Gabriella pull a shirt over her head. By the time she had also helped her into underwear and pajama bottoms, Troy was back with a glass of water and her bottle of medicine.
Tears rolled down Gabriella's face. Not only was she terrified, she was incredibly embarrassed. What kind of person needed help stepping into their own underwear? She took the bottle and glass from Troy, but she couldn't open the top.
"I'll help," Troy reached for the bottle, but Gabriella snatched it away.
"I'll do it! I can do it!" She snapped, wiping fiercely at her cheeks.
Troy seemed to understand her need to exert some independence in her life. He touched her cheek so that she would look up at him. "I know you can. You're the bravest and strongest person I know. I know you can."
Gabriella sniffed pitifully before handing Troy the bottle. She needed only the acknowledgement that she wasn't helpless. He poured two tiny pills into her hand, and she swallowed them easily down with water.
Gabriella watched Troy stand and walk to the door. He placed a small kiss on Laura's cheek, "Get some sleep. I think everything's fine now."
"Fine?!" Laura's voice was a harsh whisper that Gabriella tried to ignore. "Everything is not fine, Troy."
"Laura, we'll talk about it in the morning. We all need to get ready for bed."
"Fine."
XxxX
Gabriella wasn't asleep. Troy could tell from the way she held his hand. Her fingers flexed and unflexed against his palm.
"Troy?" She asked tentatively.
He sat up, "You okay?"
"No. Will you sleep up here? Beside me? I feel like someone's at my back, and I'm terrified."
Troy was breaking every rule ever by agreeing to sleep in her bed, but she was so fragile right now. He wanted to protect her. He crawled over her so that she didn't have to move from her warm spot. He wrapped his arms around her, and she immediately clutched at his hand, bringing it back into her own small grasp. Her body fit snuggly into the curve of his own, her back against his broad chest.
"I won't leave you," he promised. Troy felt her kiss his fingers.
"I know."
Troy woke up with Gabriella's face buried against his chest. Her arms were pinned between their bodies and she was clinging to the soft fabric of his shirt. His arms were wrapped around her, and their positioning was too perfect for him to not press a small kiss to her forehead. He didn't want to move to check the time, but it was Saturday, and the sun wasn't up yet, so he closed his eyes.
"You smell like a boy from one of my foster homes. He was nice too. We were both eight and he used to hug me when I'd cry for my mom." Gabriella's voice was sleep soft and warm. Troy clung to her words, wanting to know of her life before. He rubbed her back, acknowledging that he was listening. It was the second time he'd woken up before the sun. He didn't know how much time had elapsed since he'd first awoken to her clinging to him and now. Probably no more than twenty minutes.
"Try to sleep some more, Gabriella. It's early." She stretched against him, all of her curvy body pressing into his muscular form, before snuggling into his arms.
"Okay."
The next time Troy opened his eyes, Laura's green ones were staring at him – full of hurt. He peeled himself from Gabriella, effectively waking her.
"It's okay," he assured, "I'm going to go talk to Laura. Why don't you go ahead and get ready?"
"Okay," Gabriella mumbled, but Troy was glad to see her eyes fluttering closed again. Maybe she would get a few minutes of sleep alone.
Troy walked into his room to find Laura sitting on the bed, her arms crossed. He closed their door, "Why were you sleeping with her?"
"She asked me to," Troy answered simply, taking a seat on the bed beside Laura.
"She's been with us for over a month, and she isn't getting any better."
"You don't think so?" Troy was surprised. He saw Gabriella's progression daily.
"No," she sounded exasperated. "Troy, I miss you. We haven't slept in the same bed since she's been here. She fell out of her room naked last night because she thought someone was in there. She needs more help than we can give her."
Troy caressed Laura's cheek, pressing his lips lightly to her mouth, "I miss you too, and I know that this has been hard. You might not see the progress, but I see it every day, Laura. Can we give it a little longer? Are you okay with that?"
"I don't know," she hedged as she leaned into his embrace.
"Laura," he held her hands earnestly, "I can't send her somewhere else. She doesn't feel one hundred percent safe here with us, but can you imagine how scared she would be somewhere else?" Troy stood up to open the bedroom door. From it, he could see Gabriella still dozing on the bed. "Come look. She's sleeping. It's been six weeks and she's sleeping by herself." He sighed, "Laura, honey, I can't tell you what she's been through, but I wasn't lying when I told her that she was the strongest person I've ever met." His own eyes were filling with tears at the prospect of abandoning Gabriella.
XxxX
3 months later
"How are things going, Gabriella?" Dr. Lewinsky, her psychiatrist, asked as she flipped to a blank page in her notebook.
"Things are pretty good. I'm really glad that I'm still with Troy and Laura. I like being with them, but I don't think Laura likes me," Gabriella was laying on her psychiatrist's couch. It wasn't the kind of couch she'd seen in movies. This one was beige and plush and perfect for snuggling into. She was laying on her side, legs curled up in the fetal position as she stared at Dr. Lewinsky.
"Why do you say that?"
"I don't know. She isn't unkind, but she isn't like Troy either."
"How so?"
"Like, well, I know Troy loves me, because he talks to me, and laughs with me. He holds my hand while I sleep, and he even installed a security system so that I would feel better. And he helped me enroll in my online classes. Just…everything he does seems to be for me." She was quiet for a moment before continuing in a small voice. "I really love that about him."
Dr. Lewinsky smiled at her. She took a few notes.
"Today is Laura's birthday," Gabriella told her doctor. "I'm making her a cake."
Dr. Lewinsky saw the excitement and nervousness in Gabriella's eyes. She quite liked having Gabriella as a patient. Despite her shy personality, she was honest and open. Her quiet moments, her dark memories didn't unfold easily, but they unfolded nonetheless; and Dr. Lewinsky was pleased to see Gabriella's progress.
"I hope that helps her to like me more. I hope it shows her that I'm getting better and that her help has been important to me. That she's important to me."
XxxX
"Happy birthday!" Gabriella called as Laura and Troy entered the house. She'd been left alone for two hours while they went to have dinner. It was the longest she'd been left alone. The lights were dimmed so that the light from the candle shone brightly.
Troy laughed heartily, before taking the cake from Gabriella's hands, seeing that she wanted so badly to grab the gift bag sitting on the kitchen counter. "Well, this is a great surprise! Gabriella, how did you keep your plan a secret?"
Gabriella beamed before motioning for them to follow her to the dining room table. She'd also arranged flowers in a vase and a handmade birthday card.
"I asked Dr. Lewinsky if she would bring by a bouquet of flowers once you left. I made the cake with ingredients we already had. I like to bake," she handed the gift bag to Laura, "I hope you like it. It's small. I made it."
Laura had yet to speak. She looked at Gabriella's doe-y brown eyes, her flushed cheeks, her curly hair. She looked at all of Gabriella. She saw the sincerity written on her face and in her stance. Still, she could not force herself to be truly grateful to the young woman.
"Thank you, Gabriella. Everything is beautiful. I'm sure I'll love it."
Troy watched Gabriella's brilliance deflate. No doubt she wasn't fooled by Laura's words of appreciation.
"Gabriella, how did you learn to bake? Is it a hidden talent?"
She shook her head and eyed him softly, "I just like to make things. I've made cakes before. I had little siblings in my foster homes. They liked sweets."
"It looks delicious. Should we sing happy birthday before the candles drip onto the icing?"
They ate cake with much less zeal than Gabriella had hoped. Laura was polite and nice, but Gabriella could tell that she didn't like her surprise.
"Do you want to open your gift?" Gabriella asked, but couldn't bring herself to look at Laura. She already knew that Laura's reaction wouldn't be what she had hoped."
"Wow!" Troy gasped, "Is that from the bag of fabric you begged for when we went to the thrift store? It's beautiful."
Gabriella smiled and nodded. She looked at the gift Laura was holding. She'd made her a banner that read "Welcome." Each letter was made from soft blue fabrics of various patterns and designs. She had decorated some with miscellaneous pieces of lace.
"Gabriella, this must have taken you a long time. Troy's right. It's lovely. I'll hang it above the front door."
XxxX
Troy was awoken by the sound of Gabriella's sniffing. It was the kind that told him she was crying. He no longer slept in her room, but his bedroom door was open and so was hers so that she could call out to him if she needed. She wasn't calling out to him, but he ventured into her room regardless.
"Gabriella," he whispered into the dark.
"I'm okay," it took her several seconds to quiet her sniffles enough to respond.
Troy approached her bed and knelt beside it, "You're crying. Another bad dream?" He couldn't see her face well enough to read her facial expressions, but he could see it enough that he could stroke her cheek affectionately.
She moved away from his touch, and he watched her pull her blankets back – inviting him to lay with her. He did as she wished, pulling her into his arms.
"It wasn't a bad dream," she admitted. "It was real. It was today."
"What do you mean?"
"Why doesn't Laura like me?" the hitch in her breath told Troy that she was crying again.
"She does."
"Don't lie to me," her words weren't angry. "I've lived in over a dozen homes. I know what women act like when they don't like me."
Troy found it hard to believe that anyone could dislike Gabriella. He'd read her file. It was thick with home evaluations, report cards, therapy appointments, and personal data. She'd had excellent marks in everything. Even her foster parents' reasons for finding her incompatible or unfit to be in their homes were weak and unconnected to Gabriella's character.
Troy's lips found her cheek, "I like you." His only words of consolation for her broken heart. "Your surprise for Laura was spectacular, Gabriella. You worked so hard."
"Will you stay with me tonight?" Her breath was hot against his neck.
XxxX
"Why don't you like Gabriella?" His tone was conversational as he and Laura drank coffee. Gabriella was still sleeping.
"Who says I don't like her?"
"It's pretty obvious to Gabriella that you dislike her. She worked really hard on your surprise yesterday, and your opinion of her is really important to her. You know that, right?"
Laura huffed, and Troy watched her blow a piece of hair out of her face before responding, "I can't dislike her. She's too damn sweet," it was one of the rare times Troy had ever heard Laura curse.
"You sound angry about that. You sound angry that she's likeable." He didn't understand what was happening.
"Troy, I can't stay here any longer." She looked up at him, the light color of her eyes reflecting on her shirt and making them look blue and green all at once. "I can't wake up to find you in her bed anymore."
"I just…she can't sleep by herself sometimes." Troy didn't really know what to say.
"It's not just that," Laura took a moment to stir more cream into her coffee before continuing, "it's the way you look at her, and the way you touch her."
"What do you mean?"
"I can't explain it, but I know that you've never looked at me the way you look at her. And you're so tender when you touch her. Like she's the most precious thing in the world."
Troy watched as tears slid down Laura's pale cheeks. He took her hand into his, "Laura, it's not like that. I have to be tender with her. She's so strong and so brave, but that's come from almost losing her life. The fact that she's here at all – when so many other girls aren't – amazes me, and maybe that's what you see when I look at her, or when I touch her. I don't know."
Laura shook her head, "That's not all. I know it's not, and I can't watch you continue to fall in love with her." She left the table. She left Troy.
XxxX
6 months later
"What is it?" Gabriella could see the worry on Troy's face as he entered the door.
He brought her into his arms and kissed her hair. For almost two months, they had tiptoed around the subject of Laura, neither sure of how to broach the subject. She'd left only a week after her birthday. Gabriella had been sure that it was completely her fault. In the beginning, Gabriella cried and apologized to Troy for ruining his life, for pushing Laura away. Troy had assured her that it wasn't her fault, and then all conversation had ended.
Troy recognized the truth in Laura's words – maybe he was falling in love with Gabriella. As he began to answer Gabriella's questions about Laura's departure, he left out the part about falling in love.
However, he thought that it must be obvious to Gabriella now. They shared small smiles and timid touches. They laughed with one another and shared quiet moments. They slept in separate beds, but Troy realized that that might change sooner than it would have naturally.
"Tell me," she pressed, pulling him away from his own thoughts. "I know when something's wrong." He smiled at this. They were growing to know one another pretty well.
He brought her to the sofa and wrapped his arms around her, "You know we've been following a lot of leads lately," he referenced her case. In the past six months, he felt like they were making ample progress. Their town was small, and it didn't take long for cold cases of missing girls to offer pertinent information for both Gabriella and those girls' families.
"Troy?" He'd gone quiet.
"We found a new body today."
She nodded.
"Not like the other ones. This one was only a few days old," he felt strange referring to the dead girl that way. It felt callous and wrong. She could have easily been Gabriella. "We think that he knows we're on to him, and it's making him…," Troy paused for the word, not sure of how to relay it to Gabriella, "sloppy."
Her face blanched and she made a small strangling sound, "That means he's still out there, and he's still killing. That means he could find me."
"That's not going to happen," his voice was hard and sure. "I won't let that happen."
"How can you be sure? You don't know him," her voice was hysterical, "he hates me. He wants to kill me. He'll find me. He won't stop."
"No," Troy assured again, "he won't kill you. I know this because he isn't stronger than you. He won't win. We won't let him. I love you too much to lose you."
His words didn't really help to calm the turbulence in her stomach and the hammering of her heart "I love you too," she admitted timidly.
For the first time, his lips met Gabriella's in a tiny kiss.
XxxX
"Hi," Gabriella was stood shyly in the kitchen. She wore only a t-shirt and underwear.
"Hey," Troy smiled at the dusting of flour on her cheeks. She was holding a spatula up guiltily.
"I'm not a very good cook. Not like Laura." Their romantic relationship was still new. Everything was slow and lovely. Gabriella liked the pace, and she knew that Troy's feelings for her were true and deep. However, it was hard not to compare herself to Laura.
Troy approached her lazily. His hands landed in her hips and his lips against her forehead, "The cakes you bake would disagree. In any case, I want you more than I want breakfast. I want only you," he told her seriously.
She looked up at him with her bright brown eyes, and Troy couldn't resist but laugh at her.
"I love that you have flour on your cheeks," he told her before swooping down to catch her in a kiss.
Gabriella smiled up at Troy once their lips parted, "I made breakfast early because I have an exam in," she turned to look at the microwave, "fifty-six minutes, and we need to get to the station on time for me to log in and set up all my stuff." She was still too afraid to be left alone at home. There was no definitive lead in regard to who had killed the most recent girl, and that scared her more than anything else.
"Oh yes," he buried his nose into the sweet scent of her neck, "future Miss Montez. The children will all be vying to have you as their teacher."
"You think so?" She smirked.
"I know so."
XxxX
It was a bad idea. Troy knew it was a bad idea the minute his Sergeant had agreed, and now it was coming to fruition.
"You stupid bitch!" His face was maniacal and his words slung spit in Gabriella's direction, "I should have killed you when I had the chance!"
Gabriella had asked – begged – to watch the interrogation. She wanted to confirm his identity. She wanted to see him slip up. She wanted to see him imprisoned. She was supposed to observe only, but as the interrogation had intensified, she'd become more invested in watching her kidnapper, rapist, and almost murderer meet his end. He was losing it. Gabriella could tell. She remembered the way he breathed, the way his veins bulged when she wouldn't respond the way he wanted; and it made her angry. She hated him. She hated him so much that she began crying because the word hate wasn't strong enough to describe what she felt toward him, and that's what had done it.
Before Gabriella realized what she was doing, she threw the interrogation room door open.
He had looked first to Troy, his voice rising, "You think that you can threaten me with her?!"
Then he had turned to Gabriella, "You stupid bitch!" His words still rang in her ears. His face still clung to her every thought. In her periphery, she could remember his lawyer telling him to take it easy, but in the forefront of her thoughts, she could hear him, "I should have killed you when I had the chance!"
And then she remembered feeling both a silence and a calm wash over her, because he had killed himself. Her simple presence had been enough for him to finally admit that he was the monster who preyed on young women.
XxxX
"Troy?" Gabriella rolled over in bed to face him.
"Yeah," his voice was muffled with sleep, but he squeezed her closer to his body as he responded.
"I was thinking about the first time you met me."
His lips found her forehead, "You mean when I gave you that sweater?"
"No. Before when you found me."
"I remember."
"Everything in me told me to stay away from everyone. All people were bad. No one could help me. But when you unlocked my handcuffs, the only thing I wanted was to be in someone's arms. To know that someone could help me."
When Troy arrived on the scene he could hear another officer pounding on the motel room door, "Ma'am, can you hear me? Ma'am open this door!"
"She's been in there for half an hour. She ran in there screaming," Troy was listening to the manager of the motel tell him what the situation was. "She's woken the whole damn place up."
It was about eight in the morning, so Troy didn't feel particularly sorry for anyone. He was more concerned about following protocol and figuring out what the hell was going on.
"Get back!" He shouted. "I need you to clear these people out," his words were firm as he stepped up next to the officer who was still banging on the door.
"He's trying to kill me! He wants to kill me!" She was loud and hysterical, and she kept repeating those two sentences over and over before she finally added, "Please! Help me! Don't let him kill me!"
Troy kicked the door several times before it wedged open far enough for him to see that she'd barricaded herself inside. He threw the table and chairs out of the way as he followed her voice.
"Please! He's trying to kill me!" She was sitting on the bathroom floor. Her wrists and face were bloody. Her clothes were dirty and torn. She wasn't looking at him, but she kept crying and screaming at him.
"Please don't hurt me. I can't get them off!" She held out her arms to him. "I can't get them off! Get these fucking things off of me! Please! Please get them off! Hurry!"
Troy knelt in front of her and began to unlock the handcuffs that were digging into her wrists. As soon as he unlocked one, she flung her body at him. She was crying and shaking. She wrapped her arms around him and clung for dear life. Troy could do nothing but hold her just as firmly.
He stroked her hair and cooed to her, trying to soothe her even a little bit, "Shh. Shh. I've got you.
XxxX
Four years later
Gabriella was dressed all in white as Troy carried her over the threshold. Their faces were flushed with happiness.
Troy sat her down inside the door before kissing her slowly and languidly, "I love you so much."
"I love you," her breathy admission was accompanied by the soft fluttering of her eyelashes as she peeked up at her new husband.
Troy locked their front door and steered Gabriella toward their bedroom. He kissed her neck, "I'm sorry that this isn't our actual honeymoon."
"That's okay. I just want to be with you. We'll be in Italian vineyards soon enough."
His strong hands began to unbutton and unlace her wedding gown. It still surprised her that she could make love to him, that his touch never repulsed her, that after two weeks of pain and abuse, her body still responded willingly and positively to Troy's gentle ministrations.
Granted, it had taken both time and therapy. The first time his hand had slipped between her thighs, she'd had a panic attack, but now she adored the way he cared for her body. She loved the way he worshipped her in their bedroom – and occasionally other rooms!
Maybe he could hear her thoughts, because he pulled her into his arms so that her back was pressed firmly against his chest, "I love you." He told her again and again.
"I love you too," Gabriella turned her head so that she could look into his blue eyes. Her voice was soft as she admitted, "I didn't think I would fall in love with you."
He kissed her slowly, his tongue filling her and exploring her, "I'm glad you did. It's awfully lonely to find out your love is one-sided."
"Oh. So you knew you would fall in love with me?" Troy liked when she joked.
"Of course I did. I never could resist a damsel."
She wrinkled her nose. "Shut up." He didn't have to protest, because she helped him by kissing him quiet.
"Mrs. Bolton," Troy cooed fondly as he laid her down on the bed, "my Mrs. Bolton. Teacher, wife, survivor." His tongue trailed a delicious line from her collarbone to her breast, and he breathed hot against her sensitive flesh, "soon-to-be made a mama."
"You talk a lot of talk," Gabriella pulled him back up to her lips, "but can you deliver, Mr. Bolton?"
Her cheeky challenge of whether or not he would make her a mother tonight was met by twinkling blue eyes and a set of ever-talented fingers that made her moan before he responded, "You bet."