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“Oh. OK.”
We were a pair. Now she’d devolved to one-word sentences too. Nothing more needed to be said anyway. I held her and she let me. That was all either of us needed for the moment.
All too soon, there was a knock at the door signaling Stitches and possibly the women too. I growled in frustration. Though I knew she needed them, I wasn’t ready to give up this peace yet. Selfish, but she seemed content and I knew I fucking was. So, when she stiffened, I barked out, “Go away!”
There was a slight pause. “Morgue, it’s Iris. I’m coming in.”
“Go away!”
“It’s all right,” Dorothy whispered. “You can let them in.”
“Don’t want to.”
Dorothy didn’t say anything else and didn’t move to get out of my arms. When the door opened, I groaned in protest.
“Relax there, big guy,” Iris said, entering slowly with Blossom. Sparkle didn’t have the same hesitation. She trotted straight over to us and licked at Dorothy’s ankle, whining as she did so.
“What can we do, Dorothy?” Blossom ignored me altogether. “We can’t take the pain away, but we can give you something else to think about for a while.”
Sparkle whined and pawed at the seat next to me and Dorothy before slinking up and turning around in the corner, so her muzzle lay against Dorothy’s legs. She could stick her tongue out and lick Dorothy’s ankle.
Dorothy leaned forward to reach for the dog. Sparkle whined when Dorothy stroked her back a couple of times but didn’t move other than to lick Dorothy’s ankle again. Seemed that was how the dog was going to comfort Dorothy.
“I think Sparkle is gonna do much better than us.” Blossom gave Dorothy a gentle smile. “You let Sparkle stay with you until she wants to come back to me.”
“But won’t she want you?”
Blossom shrugged. “Sparkle knows when someone needs her, and that’s where she goes. If someone is hurting, she’s right there trying to give any comfort she can. If you need her to play, she’ll play. If you want to snuggle? She’s your dog. If you just need someone to watch over you, she’s that too. Trust me when I tell you that Sparkle will not leave until she’s sure you no longer need her.”
Dorothy nodded slowly before settling back against the crook of my neck. “OK.”
“Good. Now.” Iris brought out a phone and laid it on the coffee table in front of us. “That phone has all our numbers programmed in. You know me and Blossom, but there’s also Bellarose, Odette, Danica, Nyla, Piper, Winter, Serelda, and Scarlet. You can call or text any of us at any time and we’ll come to you. No questions asked. All we want is for you to feel safe.” She gave me a glance before continuing. “I’ll leave it up to Morgue to add his number and anyone else’s he thinks you need.”
“Thank you. I’m sorry to be such a bother.” She sniffled and I thought I might lose my mind if she started crying again. Never thought a woman’s tears would affect me like this, but they made me feel helpless and like I wasn’t caring for her like she needed.
“You’re not a bother, honey. We’ve all been through something. Maybe not as horrific as what you’ve gone through, though some of us have, and we know that the biggest part of healing is finding a place where you feel safe. Physically safe as well as safe to be yourself. The men here gave us that. As the female population grew and the men started finding women they wanted to keep, we took up the banner and let me tell you, it’s much easier for a woman to feel safe when surrounded by women who have their back. That’s us.”
“The men have our backs and that puts us all solidly in the center,” Blossom continued. “They make an impenetrable wall around us.”
Dorothy lifted her head and looked at the women, studying them before nodding her head slowly. “I like that.”
Iris let out a breath and smiled. “We’ve got you, honey. All of us.”
Stitches knocked on the doorframe even though the door was open. “Got some stuff,” he said. “Startin’ with the bug juice.”
Dorothy wrinkled her nose delicately. “Bug juice? Didn’t know alcohol was a cure for… uh, stuff.”
“It’s not.” Stitches gave her a grin. “Bug juice is also Doctor slang for antibiotics. Though, sometimes I recommend alcohol. One shot of Jack never hurt anyone.” Not strictly the truth, but I saw what Stitches was trying to do.
“I didn’t know there was such a thing as doctor slang.” Dorothy lay passively again, her hands curled into fists and still bunched in my T-shirt.
“Sure is. Ask any doctor.”
As if on cue, Eagle, our club’s medic, knocked on the doorframe just like Stitches had. “Someone order some bug juice?”
“Yep. Give it to Iris. She’ll help me.”
“Sure thing. Want me to shut the door?”
