Good evening, all! I'm so glad you liked the last chapter!

I didn't know exactly how much trust she had in me, but her words were enough for the moment.

Isabella's body froze when I knelt back down and started to pull her sweatpants down. I kept my eyes locked on hers. This wasn't personal or for pleasure. I was doing this out of instinct. Nothing sexual about it. As beautiful as she was, she needed me to do this for her, and in no way did I gain any sexual satisfaction from it. She just needed me.

When she was naked, I walked over to the shower and turned it on so it would be warm for her.

"Come on, sweetheart, let's get you cleaned up," I said gently and took her hand.

The bloodied clothes lay to the side of us, and she couldn't walk past them. She stood frozen to the spot.

"Would you like me to remove them?" I asked, and she nodded frantically, her eyes screwed shut.

And then it hit me like a ton of bricks. It wasn't that she'd started her period and was scared. It was the blood. Blood. She couldn't handle the sight of it. My stomach churned as I let go of her hand and moved her clothes to the washing basket. Once they were out of sight, I took her hand again and led her over to the shower.

I didn't have to guess to know that she must have been there when Phillip was killed, maybe even her mother. That had to be the beginning of this. His torture must be the key to this, her reaction to the blood.

How were we going to get through this? Isabella would have to talk to someone. She couldn't go through this each month. Maybe Dad could help her out, put her on the pill or something. It might even be worth my mom talking to her.

I toed off my shoes and didn't care that I still had my clothes on, Isabella was more important than soggy fabric. I pulled her closer to me so that she was under the spray of the water. She relaxed a little under the heat of the water, which was a blessing to me.

"It'll be okay, Isabella. I'll make sure of it. I'll take care of you, I always will. I'll always be here for you," I whispered, and she let out a sob.

Her forehead rested on my chest as I tried to soothe her through whispered words. If I kept telling her it was going to be okay, then maybe I would start to believe it, too.

She just cried harder. I still had one arm wrapped around her as I reached for the soft sponge. Managing awkwardly to squirt some soap onto it, I gently started to wash her back. When she seemed okay with that, I washed the parts of her body that I could reach.

"Isabella, do you want to do the next bit?" I offered, trying to keep the worry out of my tone.

A violent shake of her head was my answer. I took in a deep breath and backed away from her a little so I could get to her other body parts. I kept a very clinical mind while I washed her, my eyes stayed locked on the top of her head. Not only did it help her, but it helped me in a way to deal with what had happened to her.

I wouldn't move them. I wouldn't invade her privacy any more than I had to. Instead, I focused on all the men I had killed. How cold and ruthless I could be. I couldn't think of anything else, not yet, not now.

When I was done, we both seemed to relax, and I shut off the water. I gently led her out of the shower and grabbed a robe for her to use.

Once it was wrapped tightly around her body, I grabbed one for myself and started to strip off. Isabella kept her eyes shut while I undressed, making me want to laugh. I had just stood there and washed her as she was bleeding, and she was giving me the decency of closed eyes while I undressed.

She amazed me. Does she know that? Even in this small room, she still had more strength than anyone else I knew.

We left the bathroom and Isabella went over to the bed to wait while I got a few things sorted out. Ducking back into the bathroom, I grabbed what she needed, and then I went through the drawers in the bedroom to find a pair of panties.

When that was done, I finally managed to figure out how to put a pad in the panties and then turned my attention back to her. I knelt by her feet as I pulled the panties up her legs. She shifted slightly so I could pull them up all the way, but we got it done. After that, I handed her some painkillers and a glass of water.

If I'd learned anything from living in a house with so many women, it was that they needed 'supplies' like painkillers.

"Those'll help with any cramps you're most likely getting," I said gently when she took them from my fingers.

"Thank you."

After she took the pills, she laid down on the bed and closed her eyes. I felt so broken for her. A thing as simple as a period had rocked her to the core, and I couldn't do a thing about it.

Or maybe I could.

"I'll be back in a minute," I said, and she nodded.

I left the room quickly and headed downstairs, where I was met by a barrage of comments and questions upon arriving in the kitchen. My family were all sitting around the table. The men looked just as stressed as the women, and it drove home how much Isabella was loved by them all. Not just because of Alice, but because of who she was. Her.

"She's fine," I said while holding up my hands in surrender. "Dad, I'll need to talk to you later, but she's fine. What I do need, though, are snacks. Chocolate, candy, ice cream, whatever you have," I rushed out and started to look through the cupboards. It was clear they understood why when everyone jumped up and started helping.

A few minutes later found me laden down with everything Isabella would need and a knowing look from Mom. At least this was something I knew a little about. When Alice got her period, all she ate was crap food. Maybe Isabella would be the same.

When I got back to the room, Isabella was still in the same position on the bed in which I'd left her. I managed to deposit everything on the bed without dropping any of it, and then gave her a soft smile.

"Okay, so we have provisions for the next few days. I have food, drinks, and some slushy girlie films." I tried to chuckle while turning on the TV. "Help yourself to anything you need or want." Holding up some films, in turn, I went on, "This one is about a girl who's never been kissed. Obviously, the title of the film gives the plot away, and this one is about a girl who wears a shit ton of dresses for reasons I have no idea about. Oh, and this one is a live comedy about some guy having his hand up a puppet's ass… the choice is yours." I smiled when she did.

"That one," Isabella replied weakly.

"Puppet's ass it is then," I said and shot her a playful wink.

So, what did you think? This one and the next couple were always difficult for me to write. It's such a personal thing, right?

I've got plans to start posting up the rest of my other stories. Any jump to mind? What would you prefer me to post next? Something funny? Period Drama? Let me know! For those who still love LCI, that will finish posting over on STARS (The Writer's Coffee Shop) in the New Year ;)