Tell Me (One Night with Sole Regret 6)

When a familiar ringtone began to blare from her purse in the living room, Melanie paused mid-bite.

“That’s Nikki,” she said and scrambled from her chair, her heart racing.

She pulled out the phone and answered just before it went to voicemail.

“Nikki?” she said. “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been worried sick.”

The only sound Melanie heard was a sniffle on the other end of the line.

“Nikki?”

“Can you come get me?” Nikki said, her voice strained.

“Where are you? Are you still in New Orleans?”

“Y-yeah.”

“I’m in Austin, hon. I can’t come get you until tomorrow.”

“He hurt me, Mel.”

“Who hurt you? What happened? Are you safe?”

“Please. Please, just… just… come get me.” Nikki’s broken gasps tore Melanie’s heart in two.

“Do you need me to call an ambulance? The cops? Nikki, what happened? Tell me.”

“I need you,” she said brokenly. “Please, Mel.”

“I’m on my way.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Gabe’s rock star card came in handy for getting them to New Orleans quickly. Melanie had tried to get Nikki to tell her what had happened, to get her help from someone who wasn’t 500 miles away, but she was adamant that she just needed Melanie.

Gabe held Melanie’s hand in support and got her on the chartered flight, but she was too consumed with anxiety to even thank him properly.

“I knew I shouldn’t have left her in New Orleans by herself,” she muttered under her breath. “It was only a matter of time before something bad happened to her.”

“It can’t be that bad,” Gabe said. “She won’t even tell you what’s wrong.”

But she could still hear those three words echoing through her head. He hurt me. No amount of cajoling had gotten Nikki to give her any details and when Melanie had threatened to call for emergency services, Nikki had gone completely hysterical and refused to even tell Melanie where she was.

“I’ll tell you where I am when you get to New Orleans,” she’d said.

Melanie knew that Nikki depended on her, but it was more than a little scary to realize how much. If she’d been on a larger plane, Melanie would have started pacing the aisle. As it was, she was feeling incredibly claustrophobic in the tiny, incredibly noisy aircraft, and she’d snapped at Gabe more than once.

“Maybe she’s exaggerating,” Gabe said. “Or making stuff up just to get you to come back a night early.”

Melanie glared at him. “How can you say that?” she spat.” How can you even think that?”

She was glad he was smart enough not to press his theory further. Melanie was still too distraught to want to consider that he might be right.

“She’ll be okay,” he said, running a hand over her hair and pressing a kiss to her temple. “We’ll get her taken care of. I promise.”

Melanie buried her face in her hands and took several deep breaths. Her stomach was seizing with nerves. “I feel like I’m going to throw up,” she said miserably.

“That’s probably my cooking.”

She chuckled half-heartedly, knowing he was trying to cheer her up, but until she could see Nikki and know that her friend was truly all right, cheerfulness just wasn’t a possibility.

As soon as the plane landed, Melanie called Nikki. When she didn’t answer, she really started to panic.

“Isn’t there a way to track the location of cellphones?” Melanie asked Gabe. She was ready to go full-out detective if she didn’t get Nikki on the line soon.

On her second attempt, Nikki answered. Melanie breathed a sigh of relief. “Why didn’t you answer?”

“I was in the shower.”

“So where are you? I’m in New Orleans now.”

“At the hotel.”

“In Gabe’s suite?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you been there the entire time?”

“No.” Her voice sounded hollow. The single word, the distance in her voice, was worse than listening to her cry. Melanie swayed and Gabe was right there to grab her before she collapsed on the sidewalk where they stood waiting for a cab.

“We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

“We?”

“Gabe is with me.”

“Of course.”

Nikki was quiet for a moment and Melanie didn’t know what to say to break the silence. “Will you tell me what happened?”

“I’m going to take another shower,” Nikki said.

She disconnected, and Melanie told Gabe what she’d said and where she was. He didn’t press her for more information, just helped her into the nearest cab and told the driver to hurry.

When their knock on the door of the hotel suite went unanswered, Gabe used his spare key card and unlocked it. Melanie heard the water running in the bathroom. Was Nikki still in the shower?

“I should probably talk to her alone,” Melanie said to Gabe.

He nodded and stood back while Melanie let herself into the steamy bathroom and closed the door behind her. There were wrappers and empty containers all over the floor—soaps and shampoos, disposable douches, toothbrushes and mouthwash. She recognized Nikki’s need to get clean inside and out. She didn’t need a degree in psychology to know what it meant.

“Nikki, honey,” she said, her heart in her throat. “I’m here.”

“Can you wash my back for me?” she said in a small voice. “I can’t reach. I tried. I tried, but I can’t reach.”

Melanie was almost afraid to open the shower curtain. She had no idea what to expect. Would Nikki be beaten black and blue? Was Melanie strong enough to see someone she cared about like that? Eyes closed, Melanie drew back the curtain slowly. She steeled herself for the worst and opened her eyes. She let out a sigh of relief. Nikki wasn’t completely unscathed. Her lip was scabbed over where it had been split and she had several bruises, mostly on her wrists, hips, and thighs, but she mostly looked like herself. A very subdued, dead-eyed facsimile of Nikki Swanson, but at least she was recognizable. Her skin was red from being scrubbed in unbearably hot water and her eyes were swollen from the fall of countless tears, but were now dry. Maybe Nikki didn’t have another tear to shed, but Melanie did. Knowing she’d completely breakdown if she spoke, Melanie took the soapy wash cloth out of Nikki’s trembling hands and scrubbed her back over and over again while hot tears dripped down her own cheeks.