As he starts to really wonder what their relationship is like or what's going on, the guard sees the new man turn and speak to the guy that he had initially assumed was the woman's boyfriend.The guard starts to approach them and can just make out the stronger man meekly handing over what appears to be his ID and plane ticket. The guard quickens his pace, and as he does he sees the man say something to each of the other two. The stronger man promptly grabs his things and heads towards the exit, and the woman starts to walk towards another group of passengers waiting for their own plane.The guard pauses, thinking about who to approach, and then pushes through the crowd towards the man who still hasn't started leaving. When he gets there the man is sitting in what used to be the woman's chair, engrossed in his phone."Excuse me, sir," the guard begins, "could I see your ID?" The man sighs and looks up slowly, then hands the guard an ID. He looks at it and sees that it is in fact the ID. Then rough, fearful voices. Being carried down the stairs. I recalled a stranger's car and being dumped at a hospital, a small, dingy hospital in Brookline, not a nice place at all.Then nurses and doctors, bandages and broken bones. Then sleep.When I awoke, Jenny sat beside my bed and held my hand, my good hand, the hand not in splints."Hi sweetie," I said through a bandaged face and swollen lips. "I bet I look ugly."She didn't agree or disagree. Nor did she smile or frown."I was the emergency contact in your cell phone," she said in a flat voice. "When they called and said that my friend 'Amber Darling' had been in an accident, I guessed it was you." I'm very sorry." Were you raped?"That was a complicated question. I certainly felt raped. The Painter, the Engineer, they got their rape – by any other name. "Not exactly," I said. "I got beat pretty bad, though."She released my hand and stood."I didn't tell them you were a cop. They called the cops though, the hospital, when they saw.
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