Stay

Grace had heard the tales of the woman in the forest. That you should go to her in times of trouble. That she was a “fixer” of sorts, for the worst humanity had to offer.

Grace knew her story would qualify. Her main hesitancy was the recounting that she feared she may have to endure, in order to enlist the good woman’s help. Through whispers at the clinic, she knew where she was to find the woman; on the edge of town, on a dead-end street, there sat a house that looked vacant from the outside.

That’s where you find her.

She never wanted money. She just wanted the name, a photo, whatever you had.

And so there she was, sitting in her car parked in front of the old Victorian home, trying to find her nerve. Her hands gripped the steering wheel too tight, to keep from trembling. She had the distinct feeling that the woman must already know she’s there - the sound of her car’s engine cut through the quiet ambiance of the woods, almost echoed in the silence.

She cut the engine and exited the vehicle, not bothering to lock the car as she made her way up the porch steps to stand before the double french doors. She took a steadying breath and lifted her hand to knock, but the door creaked open before her knuckles even made contact. Her heart skipped in her chest as the woman was revealed.

She had long, billowing black hair, wavy and down almost to her hip. She was tall, nearly a head taller than Grace herself, and her silhouette was strong-shouldered with curves that Grace wasn’t sure if she envied or simply found attractive. Her face was angular, and her brown eyes were sharp. She mentally shook herself. This was not someone to start having a thing for. This was business.

“How can I help you?” The woman asked, forgoing a greeting.

“Hi, um…” Grace straightened herself a bit. “I heard that you uh…f-fix...things? Um...”

The woman smiled a bit, and her strong jawline gave her an air of danger somehow. She looked like someone Grace would typically be intimidated by in any situation - the given circumstances didn’t help.

“What needs fixing, love?” The woman asked.

This was the hard part, Grace thought.

“I-I...it’s hard to talk about. Um.” She fidgeted with the string of her jacket and couldn’t meet the woman’s eyes. She knew what she looked like; bags under hers eyes dark enough to look like smeared makeup; bruises in places that were getting increasingly noticeable; the hand tremors that didn’t want to go away even when she was alone.

The taller woman seemed to notice the discomfort, looked her up and down, and she held the door open wider for Grace.

“Come in, I’ll make us tea,” she said with a soothing tone that Grace couldn’t help but go along with. She found herself stepping into the large house wordlessly, the heavy door shutting behind her with a click.

The inside of the home was lovely, if a bit empty. Dim lighting threw shadows throughout the grand front room, adorned with abstract artworks that matched the home’s dark atmosphere. To the right of the room was a doorway, which opened into a dining room. Grace stepped into the room at the woman’s prompting.

The woman motioned for her to have a seat at a long table in the middle of the room, and she didn’t protest. The chair seemed old, in an antique-one-spent-a-small-fortune-on kind of way. The upholstery was faded and intricate, and Grace fixated on a small knick in the armrest. Wondered how it got there, and when.

“I’ll be right back,” she heard the woman say before she stepped back out. Only then did Grace notice that the tall woman was sans footwear, instead simply wearing a pair of black socks visible from under the long robe she wore. The casual attire eased her nerves a bit and she sank further into her seat.

The woman’s footsteps were nearly silent, and were gone from Grace’s earshot within seconds. She sat alone for a few minutes before retrieving her cell phone from her pocket, scrolling mindlessly. Her body was beginning to feel the weight of being strung so tight for too long, not to mention the late hour, and her eyes began to droop as she tried to read the news on her phone screen.

“This should help calm your nerves,” a voice directly behind her said and Grace shot up straight in her chair with a gasp. The woman gave a small Oh then chuckled to herself. “Sorry, I didn’t intend to scare you, love.”

Grace gripped her phone in a tight fist while the other hand clutched at her chest. A pristinely kept China cup was placed to her right as the woman took up the chair next to her, giving a bit of space between the two of them.

“I-it’s okay,” Grace panted out. Her body was in flight mode, but she tried to steady her breathing and calm down. She looked into the cup of steaming liquid before her, pale murky green in color. “Thank you for the tea.”

She brought the cup to her lips and breathed in deep. Just the aroma alone made her sigh in relief. She took a cautious sip, and hummed at the herbaceous and slightly sweet notes.

She missed the taller woman’s smile.

“You don’t have to tell me much - I don’t need many details. I understand what may have happened. Just give me a name and a face.”

Grace’s heart rate picked up again. Right.

“Can I, um, have your name, first?” She asked.

“Val,” she said simply, and of course that was her name. Short and cool-sounding, and all too fitting for this whole...thing.

“Val,” the other woman repeated quietly. She met Val’s eyes, finally. “I’m Grace.”

Val’s smile pulled up into a sharp grin, but not sharp in an off-putting way. She just had that kind of smile, Grace supposed.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Grace,” she murmured.

She didn’t reach a hand out to shake, so Grace didn’t either.

“You too,” she said, then after a beat, continued, “His name is Joshua.”

Grace swiped through her phone, then set it on the table and pushed it towards Val. On the screen was a picture of a nondescript man taken with a front-facing phone camera. Val stared at it for a few moments, then turned off the phone herself and looked at Grace.

“He won’t be able to do anything ever again,” she swore. “You have my word.”

Grace dropped her head into her hands and released a shuddering breath, which turned to a sob as the weight of it all hit her at onc. She dug her palms into her eyes to hide her expression, though there was no hiding the sounds of her crying. Val scooted closer, but didn’t initiate any kind of contact.

“Grace, it’s alright. You’re going to be okay.” The tall woman’s hand lay palm up on the table, a silent invitation should Grace decide the physical assurance would be welcome. As it turned out, that was exactly what Grace seemed to be needing, as she was quick to peel one of her hands from her face and place it atop Val’s. The older woman’s demeanor softened at the contact.

“Have you sought medical attention?” She asked, delicately as one could, given the situation.

Grace pillowed her arm under her head, facing the other woman but not meeting her eyes.

“Yes,” she said curtly. “I’m fine.”

Val gently closed her fingers around Grace’s hand.

“I’m very glad to hear that.”

Grace’s hands shook and her sniffles were audible. Val felt bshe had perhaps said something she shouldn’t have.

“Can I do anything to help you right now?” She asked.

Grace didn’t speak at first.

“You’re already gonna kill for me - what else could I ask you to do?”

Her tone was bitter, but notably not towards Val. Towards herself, or her abuser, or the world. Either way, Val took none of it personally.

“Whatever you need,” she replied easily, sincerely. “Do you have a place to go? Would you like an escort home?”

Grace’s stomach dropped at the thought of going home.

“No, I-I can’t- I can’t go home,” she said emphatically, lifting her head from the table to give Val a look that betrayed her every fear . “He lives with me.”

Val fought with herself to keep from showing too much anger, and she held tighter to the other woman’s hand.

“I see.”

Val took a deep breath as Grace worried her lip.

“Forgive me if this is overstepping, but I’d like to extend the invitation for you to stay the night here.”

Grace nearly shot out of her chair, and her face went red at the request, hand ripped from Val’s on instinct.

“Wha-what?” She stammered, wide-eyed.

Val opened her mouth to respond, but found herself suddenly without words. She’d had women seek shelter at her home many times across countless years without incident; she’d never had a reaction like this before, and wasn’t sure how to proceed. Grace took note of the other woman’s expression and her blush deepened with embarrassment, but she didn’t sit back down. Instead, she maneuvered around the chair she had been seated in to put a bit more distance between the two.

“I’m sorry, Grace,” Val said with her hand held up placatingly. She made no move to get up. “It wasn’t at all my intention to make you uncomfortable. I have a spare bedroom - I only meant to offer a safe place for you to stay until you could return home without fear. Nothing more.”

Grace’s grip on the back of the chair eased a bit. She took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” she said. Her gaze fell.

“No, it’s alright if you don’t want-”

“No, I...It’s not that I don’t want to, I just-” Grace met Val’s eyes again bbefore she shimmied back into her chair. “I’ve just been really...I don’t know…Jumpy. Scared. If it’s okay, I’d like- I want to stay. If you don’t mind.” Grace sighed heavily. “I’m sorry for being so…”

“That’s alright - please be patient with yourself,” Val soothed. “Grace, you’ve...been through trauma, okay? That much I can discern. Be patient with yourself, even just for a moment.”

Just for a moment, Grace thought. I think I can do that.

She folded her hands in her lap. Val gave her a once-over.

“I will bring you closure for what you’ve been put through. And you may stay here for as long as you’d like, until you feel comfortable in your own home again.”

Grace let out a whoosh of air, and her eyes went heaven-ward before slipping shut.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. No other words fit how she felt right now. Her hand reached out for Val’s once more. “Thank you.”

Val gave a single nod in acknowledgement, though Grace didn’t see it; she then stood from her chair and, still holding the other woman’s hand, guided her to follow.

“Come - I’ll give you a tour and show you to your room.”

Val’s home was sprawling, even larger than it looked from the outside. The large kitchen opened into a sitting room with a few big, soft chairs and a coffee table in the center. Against the wall was a bookshelf nearly as tall as Grace. She imagined having her morning coffee there, tucked under a blanket with a book. She felt her chest heat up, picturing Val there with her as well. Across from the kitchen was a living room with a flat screen television hung on a wall, above an entertainment center with cabinets, a U-shaped black couch with side tables on each end, and a tall, silver lamp that loomed over a cluttered desk.

The rooms were lovely but looked much the same; Grace knew that was likely intentional. Something about design and flow and style - things she couldn’t bring herself to care for much. Perhaps she would appreciate it when she was older, though Val didn’t look much older than herself. A few years, maybe, unless she had vampire genes. She giggled inwardly; that fit, didn’t it? A beautiful vampire who lives in a Victorian mansion and feasts on the blood of terrible men.

Grace’s smile was involuntary, but thankfully Val hadn’t been looking at her.

A dimly lit staircase led up to the second floor, directly into a loft room that overlooked the entry. There were hallways with closed doors that Val said were mostly used for storage - Grace doubted that claim, for reasons she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Perhaps Val’s reputation had something to do with it.

Eventually Val opened the door to a guest room, and when the lights were turned on, Grace felt a twinge of envy at the lavish furnishings.

“Is this room alright?” Val asked as she held the door for Grace to enter.

Grace barked a laugh, unbidden.

“It’s better than my whole apartment,” she said with just a hint of bitterness.

Val hummed, her tone indecipherable to Grace.

“Well,” she began casually, turning down the white duvet on the queen-sized bed. “Your hit will be fulfilled within the next day, but like I said - stay as long as you’d like.”

Grace winced internally at that. Hit. That’s what this was, afterall. Before, when it was an unspoken agreement, she’d had an easier time compartmentalizing the situation. Hearing the term out loud made everything all the more real. She didn’t regret her decision, not quite, but there was a pang of unease in her stomach.

Val seemed to have noticed the silence and turned to look at Grace.

“That is, if you still would like to go through with it.”

She didn’t sound upset, or even annoyed. She was genuinely checking that Grace still wanted this, and that made the younger woman feel safe to be honest.

“I do, I just…” She bit her lip and sat down on the bed, conflicted. “I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t need to. Right? I mean, I tried to get away, I tried to do it the right way, I tried talking to the police and they didn't-!”

She cut herself off as her voice rose and trembled with emotion. Val gave her a soft look and sat down next to her, keeping that bit of distance still.

“It can wait. Stay here with me, somewhere you’ll be safe, and able to process how you’ve been feeling. I don’t want you to make a decision you’ll come to regret.”

Grace slumped her shoulders, her eyebrows furrowing as her thoughts raced.

“I know you say I can stay, but-” She huffed to herself, frustrated at how she struggled to articulate how she was feeling. “I don’t want to impose; I don’t want to cause any trouble for you. I’m sure you have women over all the time-”

Grace blushed at the implication of her words.

“F-for, you know, things like this. LIke me,” she finished lamely, turning her head fully away from Val to hide her pink cheeks.

Blessedly, Val gave her the mercy of not reacting, or maybe she hadn’t noticed at all.

“Not as often as you might think,” she said. “Not anymore, at least. It’s certainly not typical that I have an overnight guest. Mostly, the women who need help are here just as quickly as they’re gone. They have family, children to care for - lives outside of what they need from me.”

Grace couldn’t help but wonder if they were talking about murder still, or something else entirely. She looked towards the older woman to see her looking sad and lost, and oh, no, that’s not an expression Val should ever be wearing.

She wanted to speak, but Val beat her to it, shaking her head slightly.

“But it’s good, really, isn’t it? Their ability to move on from their hurt, to continue on in some semblance of normal? It’s good, I think.”

Those sounded like the words of someone who had justified her own loneliness to herself one too many times.

“It’s good, but it’s…” she paused as she carefully planned her words. “It’s okay to, like, want someone to stay. Ya know? It’s okay to want someone.”

Val swallowed as she fiddled with her hands in her lap, a nervous movement that Grace wouldn’t have expected from the composed woman. After a beat of silence, Val laughed quietly.

“Oh, Grace,” she breathed. “I don’t put up a good front, do I?”

She smiled, still looking down. Her long black hair tumbled over her shoulder and she combed it back with her fingers. Grace stared, wordless. Hardly aware of herself, she scooted closer and reached for Val’s hand. The other woman snapped her head up to give her a look of surprise. Grace met her with a small smile.

“I put myself through a lot, because I just wanted to be with someone. Wanting to be with someone isn’t...it’s not always a good reason to be with them. Even though to me the relationship’s been over for so long, I still couldn’t escape, and I...I haven’t wanted in a long time because of...because of him, but…”

Grace sighed at her own difficulty speaking.

“I-I’m sorry - I don’t even know where I’m going with this.” She looked back to Val to find herself being stared at this time, and she gulped at the attention. The pressure of Val holding her hand tighter made her stomach flip.

“That’s alright, Grace, I think I know what you mean,” she said softly, standing. “I should let you have some space for a bit - I’m sure your day has been emotionally taxing.”

“O-okay,” Grace whispered. She wasn’t quite ready for the closeness to end, but Val was already making her way to the door.

“I planned on having dinner delivered tonight - would you like something too? I was thinking Thai.”

Again, Grace blushed.

“Oh, um, no, you don’t have to do that-”

“I don’t do anything that I don’t want to,” Val interrupted with a smile.

Grace felt any arguments die in her throat.

“Okay,” she acquiesced with a nervous smile, folding her hands in her lap.

“Anything you’d like, or may I order for you? Any allergies?”

Grace shook her head.

“No, no allergies. You can get whatever you think sounds good.”

Val grinned in full, the first time Grace had seen her look so open and happy.

“Lovely - I’ll call for you when it’s here,” she said, making to leave the room, but she paused. “And if you’d like sleep clothes, let me know. And feel free to use the bathtub and anything else you find in here.”

The door was closed before Grace could protest. The idea of wearing Val’s pajamas made her chest warm and pink, and being left with that thought had her ansty. She looked around the room again, trying to distract herself, and also get a better view now that she wasn’t distracted by the awfully attractive woman she’d found herself in the company of.

She knew in the sober parts of her mind that she still had a decision to make, and that was the choice of whether or not to go through with commissioning the murder of her boyfriend.

Ex-Boyfriend, hostage-taker, she corrected in her head. Future dead man?

She flopped back on the soft mattress and wondered just how she’d gotten there. How did she go from a happy, year-long relationship to fearing for her life every moment of every day. Unemployed because he doesn’t want her working. Without friends because he doesn’t want her distracted - but that’s not really the reason. Grace isn’t that naive. He didn’t want her to have a support system. God, she didn’t even have her own cell phone until a week ago, because he felt he could only “trust” her now.

He had smashed her old phone. Threw it in the trash.

Grace felt tears prick the corners of her eyes.

Her apartment used to be just that - hers. He had convinced her to put him on the lease too, let it be his as well. She thought they would be happy, start a good life together.

She flipped onto her side and sobbed.

Less than an hour had passed before Val had returned.

“Grace,” Val called as she knocked on the guest room door. “Dinner’s here.”

“Okay,” Grace croaked, voice raw from crying.

Val opened the door and rushed to Grace’s side at the sound of sniffling, hands hovering over her, not daring to touch uninvited. Her worried expression had Grace aching.

“Grace, love, are you alright?” She asked in a hushed tone.

Grace wiped away tears with the heel of her palm, turning to face Val and take her hand. She swore she saw the woman’s cheeks darken, but she must have imagined that, surely.

“I want you to do it,” the young woman mumbled. “I want you to kill him.”

Val stared for a moment, then nodded. She squeezed Grace’s hand as a promise.

They enjoyed pad thai and curry in the room with the looming lamp, a glass of blood-red wine in front of each woman. Grace held her hand while Val explained the want, the ache, the loneliness.

Grace retired to the guest room sometime after 3AM. Val slinked out in the dark hours of the morning to deliver justice and right someone else’s wrongs. When she returned home, just as the sun was gliding up the treeline, she found one side of her bed occupied and her bedding in disarray.

Her eyebrows rose in surprise, but her smile was tender once the reality before her had processed.

A set of sleep clothes was missing from her closet when she went to change. The bathroom was warm with steam from a recent shower. Sunlight had just begun filtering in through the window when she settled under her plush black comforter. Grace stirred, groaning sleepily and turning to Val.

“I don’ really wan’go back home,” she murmured, half-conscious . Val sidled closer and smoothed Grace’s hair away from her face.

“Then don’t,” she whispered. “Stay.”

Grace hummed her agreement and dozed back off.

Val watched her for several moments. Soft orange light reflected off of Grace’s red hair, and she looked ethereal, haloed in a warm glow. Finally, she laid down fully, closer to the other woman than she could have ever hoped to be. Sleep found her easily that night.

She woke up the next morning warm, Grace’s head resting on her chest, her arm splayed across the woman’s abdomen.

Val smiled, closed her eyes, and let herself drift to sleep once more.