Cross My Tigress Face the Wrath (Stella)

"Who's there?"

"It's me."

Ronald's voice came from outside the door.

Stella, who had just relaxed, felt her heart skip a beat again. "What's up?"

Ronald said, "The shower's busted. Mind if I use yours for a quick rinse."

Stella froze. Glancing at the scarf in her hand, panic set in.

"Just, just a sec," she stammered.

Ignoring the pain in her legs, she hurried back to the bathroom to hide the scarf.

Once everything was in place, she opened the door.

Ronald's gaze flicked to the scarf still draped around her neck, curiosity sparking in his eyes.

"Thought you were hitting the hay. What's with the scarf?"

Stella was at a loss for words.

The scarf, it seemed, was determined to be the centerpiece of the night. Whoever had left those glaring marks on her neck had ensured she wouldn't dare go bare-necked for at least a week. Seeing Stella silent, Ronald reached out to unwrap the scarf.

But Stella, nimble as a squirrel, leaped away.

Ronald raised an eyebrow. "Hmm?"

"I'm cold."

No matter how many times he'd ask, her answer would always be the same: "I'm cold."

She couldn't think of any other excuse.

"Really cold, huh?" His voice softened, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Not... hurt?"

Stella's breath hitched. Her mind, already in a fog, completely froze at his words.

"What? No, not at all."

For a fleeting moment, she wondered if Ronald actually remembered.

But that thought quickly dissolved.

Every time he drank, he forgot everything that happened while he was wasted.

And with last night's reckless mix of booze and drug, how could he possibly remember? "Are you sure?"

Stella nodded vigorously. "Yes. Look, I'm tired. You should go shower."

She couldn't keep talking to Ronald. Her heart couldn't take it.

Watching her flee like a rabbit and dive under the covers, Ronald's smile deepened.

"Don't suffocate under there. It's not good for you."

With that, Ronald disappeared into the bathroom.

Only when the sound of running

water

I the room did Stella dart

peeked

from under the covers.

Oh, heavens. Was she really doomed to hide behind a scarf all week?

And Ronald, with his relentless inquiries about the scarf, how long could she hold out? Once was nerve-wracking enough.

Then there was Finley. Stella respected his medical skills, but his EQ was another story. The more you wanted to avoid a topic, the more he would poke and prod.

She groaned inwardly, recalling the bruises she'd glimpsed in the mirror. What was she supposed to do?

Maybe she could tell Ronald she

ft

head back to Ferrowland

ear homesickness for her

mom

and sister.

But no, that wouldn't fly. If her mom asked why, what could she say?

"Oh, by the way, I slept with your son."

The thought alone made her stomach churn. Would her mom disown her?

Stella's head was spinning.

The bathroom door swung open, and Ronald's voice broke through, "Star, what's this?" "Huh?"

Confused, Stella tossed aside the covers and looked at Ronald.

Seeing the scarf she'd hidden now in his hands, Stella's mind went blank.