Christine laughed long and hard. "Guess my computer ignorance is a plus this time."
"You aren't ignorant, just not a master with tech stuff. It may take a while, but I can get you the print out." He paused as someone shouted his name. "I'll go to the office supply place near the coffee shop across from the office. Fax from a corporate non-network is the best way and nearly untraceable. Or it will be, since I'll pay in cash and have my girlfriend who works there erase the log after I send it. What's your fax number?"
Christine rattled it off. "Thank you so much. This means a lot to me."
"No problem." He paused to laugh and give morning greetings to someone who called him. "It should be there in like a couple of hours or so."
"I thought you said it would take a while?"
"Well, hours are a while to us techies." Tom laughed. "It shouldn't take longer than that since I don't have anything pressing. Talk to you soon."
Maybe she could figure this whole mess out after all. If she cleared herself, it would help Charlie. He'd wanted this promotion for so long and he deserved it, but even with his record and contacts, any claims of embezzlement could hurt his career. She opened the front door and stepped onto the porch. As for hers, well, maybe she needed to take a long hard look at whether she wanted to stay with this corporation. She strolled out to the back yard in the crisp air scented with a bouquet of dew, soil, and the coming spring. The distant engines of cars told of people going about their daily routines, the sun peeked through the clouds to shine on the trees, and bushes stood about to burst with leaves and cover the wooden fence surrounding the yard. Isolated enough she could walk around in her robe and no one would see her, peaceful, and safe.
A violent shove slammed her face into the side of the house. Dazed, she cried out as everything started to go black. "Whore!" A voice rang in her ear, rough, angry. "Fucking him, thinking no one sees."
She screamed thin and weak as hands tore at her robe. Everything spun. Pain burst in her head, face, and arms. Fear, vicious and sharp, gripped her as she raised a hand to retaliate like she'd once learned. Her arm was wrenched behind her shoulder and another fist slammed into her side. She screeched as something inside her broke. Every bone in her body jarred as she collapsed to the ground. Dirt and blood filled her mouth as the assailant delivered several kicks to her ribs. Something sliced against her, ripping her robe and flesh. The pain tore at her. Why? Why? Hands groped her breasts, pinching, bruising. Can't stop it. Hands gripped her thighs. No. Stop. No.
"Nooo." Christine cried, begging as laughter filled the air. Struggling to get away, a fist slammed into her face, exploding colors and pain overwhelming her. This couldn't be happening. Charlie! Help me! Please, Charlie.
***
Charlie halted, off stride in the easy jogging pace he'd set. Did he just hear Christine? Her voice screamed again in his head. He turned and increased his pace to a flat out run. She'd probably laugh when he told her he'd returned much sooner because he heard her calling to him. Or maybe suggest a better workout for them. He entered her yard, some odd instinct making him head around the house to the back. "Christine!"
She lay crumpled on her side. Blood covered her, matting her hair and soaking the ground. Oh sweet God. Her lovely face was battered, her robe in rags. Cuts on her skin so numerous he couldn't begin to count them all. Even worse, she didn't move. Charlie felt for her pulse, becoming terrified when he couldn't find it. There it was, faint but strong. Oh thank God.
He yanked out his cell and ripped off his jacket to cover her. She never moved or made a sound. He wanted to hold her, but he knew better than to move her in any way. Her arm twisted at a funny angle; her legs oozed blood. It broke him to see one foot clad in a blue slipper and the other bare and muddy. He paused to wipe away the moisture on his cheeks. What the hell happened? Who could have done this?
"Christine." He lay beside her and held her hand. "I'm here. I'm here. Come back to me, my Gem. Don't leave me." He heard sirens and flashed back to that rainy night. Christine would not end like Anela. No. He'd kill whoever had hurt her.
The emergency workers arrived and rushed to them. Charlie answered their questions, tried to stay out of their way and still remain close to her. They were so gentle with Christine, handling her carefully. He ignored the suspicious glances they threw at him. He'd bear anything if they'd help her. She didn't wake or respond, even as they tapped her cheek and prodded her body. The ride to the hospital seemed endless.
"Who are you, sir?"
Charlie turned from the swinging doors where they'd entered with Christine strapped to a gurney. "I'm Charlie Jergens. Please, can you find out how she is?"
"I mean who are you to her?" The nurse raised a brow. "What is your relationship?"