Chapter 1 – Flat Tire

   I had waited no more than twenty minutes, but my patience gradually started to evaporate. The sun was setting. I shivered. It was getting cold. I looked again at my little dark-blue Mazda. It was stuck into the ditch. The right wing was crumpled and the tire was flat. The mere sight of it made me even angrier. I had bought this car just a month ago. I tried to calm myself down. Luckily, I wasn’t hurt. Just my left ankle was throbbing, though almost imperceptibly. I leant over and touched it. It wasn’t swollen. I looked at the road again. The only hope now. The battery of my mobile had died before the accident. As I was walking back and forth, I spotted lights in the distance. It looked like a house. Half a mile, no more. There was a dirt road leading to it. I looked down at my feet. Why did I put on these high heels? They are so useless in such occasion. I could not help noticing that my stockings were laddered. Just a little on my right knee, and unbearably on my left calf. I shook my head, sighed, and after taking my handbag, and locking the car, I set off. The darkness became impenetrable. There were no stars on the sky so I had to watch my steps closely. A couple of times I wandered out of the way. Tiredness overwhelmed me. Gradually I become aware that the strap of the left shoe was digging into my ankle. It felt swollen and sore. I unbuckled the strap. The soreness diminished but I couldn’t walk that way so I buckled it again. I limped along trying not to put much weight on my left foot. Just a sprain. Maybe when the car stopped abruptly into the ditch I had turned my ankle. This doesn’t matter now. The lights were getting closer. Two or three hundred meters. Sure. I quickened my pace. Possibly, the worst decision I had made recently. I tripped on a small twig. My left ankle turned and I fell on the ground. Sharp pain shot through my entire leg. My scream pierced the night.

Chapter 2 – Help

  No one heard me. Is it possible? The house is so close. I shouted again. What I am going to do now? Could I have broken my ankle? Such things do happen, but why to me? I unbuckled the strap and gently touched the swelling. It was bigger than before. I took off the shoe and cautiously moved my ankle. More pain. Should I attempt to walk? Of course not, but I can’t stay here as well. I stood up, carefully balancing on my right foot. It was very painful, but I somehow managed to put weight on the injured ankle. After a couple of tentative steps, I realized that I could do it. I toiled on, wincing at every step. The fact that I was wearing just one shoe impeded my movements and the limping became much worse. I wondered if I was a grotesque sight. How can I think about such things right now? Silly girl! The trampled earth felt cold under my stockinged foot. Small pebbles were scratching the soft skin of my sole. It was so unpleasant. I walked on tiptoes within ten meters but I wasn’t steady this way, moreover I was apprehensive about turning my ankle again so I stopped experimenting. Finally, I reached the house. In the poor light coming out of the two curtained windows, I saw that the house was old. The flowerbeds near the front porch looked overgrown. I had a hard time climbing the three steps and getting to the front door. I knocked and waited. Nothing! I knocked harder. The sound of muffled steps came from within. I breathed a deep sigh of relief. The door opened. A few seconds later my eyes adjusted to the bright light and I saw him clearly. The man was tall and slender, early-thirties, dark-haired. He looked at me from head to toe. I stirred self-consciously.

   “It seems that you need help,” he said.

   “Yes,” I answered.

   He stepped back and asked me in.

   “What happened?” he questioned as I hobbled in.

   I lay back in the armchair he offered me and started to recount my misadventures, starting from the moment when the tire exploded. He listened attentively, his eye fixed on mine. I finished my story and looked sadly at my injured limb.

   “Let me see your ankle!” The man said and fetched a stool.

   “I will be very grateful to you if you just drive to the nearest hospital. I do not want to bother you. ”

   “The nearest is 65 miles away,” he said smiling. ” It may look unbelievable to you but I am orthopedist. By the way my name is Steven.”

   “I am Tiffany and I am born with a silver spoon in my mouth.”    

    As I said that we both smiled and shook hands. After that, Steven kneeled down on the floor before me. He took my foot in his hands and scrutinized my poor ankle.                                                   

    “Please, remove the stocking,” he asked me.

   I reached under my skirt, pulled it down my leg and below the knee. He helped me by gently dragging the tattered stocking over my ankle and foot. I thanked him. Then Steven lifted my ankle. He pressed the palm of his left hand under the instep. His movements were confident. It felt awkward that a stranger was touching my bare foot though. Moreover, my foot was smudged with dirt. When he slowly stirred my ankle, I winced from the pain, but forced myself to remain silent.

   “Do you think it is broken?” I asked.

   “No, it isn’t. Do not worry about that. Just a twist.”

   He propped my leg on the stool and went somewhere. I looked around me. The spacious living area was occupied with old-fashioned furniture. Large beams were supporting the high ceiling. To my left, two logs were smoldering in a big fireplace, to the right there was a wooden staircase leading to the upper floor. Everything appeared clean and well tended.

   Steven brought a washbasin and a towel. After washing my ankle and drying it carefully, I propped it back on the stool.

   “This will help you for the pain,” he announced and poured me some whisky.

   “I am not much of a drinker.”

   “Use it as a medicine! It will help you feel better.”

   He turned out to be right.

   “Are you hungry?” he asked.

   “No, I don’t think I can eat right now?”

   As I sipped my drink slowly, Steven bandaged my swelled ankle. He did it very deftly. The tightening noticeably eased the pain. Surprisingly, I felt strange excitement from the touch of his fingers. I almost giggled as his fingers accidentally brushed against my toes. Am I getting drunk? Steven thought that he had caused me pain and excused himself. He was so kind to me! After finishing the dressing, he went upstairs to prepare my bedroom.

   “If you have problems climbing the stairs I can…” Steven’s voice trailed off.   

   “No problem. The pain is almost gone,” I said using my most charming smile.

   He blushed a little. Maybe he likes me? Does he think I am pretty? 5’ 4’, 110 pounds, blond hair, green eyes? Possibly, I am a little short. It would have been great if I had allowed him to carry me up the stairs! Is it too late?

   Steven went upstairs again and returned carrying a pair of dark green pointed clogs with two-inch heels. They looked cute.  

   “Try these! My ex-wife forgot them here. Nearly your size I think.”

   I took off the high heel and slipped the clogs on. Just a little bit too big for my small sized feet. They were quite comfortable though.  

   Steven said that he would take care of the car first think in the morning. I gave him the keys. He also promised to bring my traveling bag. Then I decided to go to bed. If my ankle got better tomorrow, I intended to drive to Seattle, where I had an appointment with one of my colleagues. What if the car needs repairs? I willed myself not to think about that.

    As I was climbing the stairs one step at a time, supporting myself on the railing, I looked down at Steven. His eyes were fixed on me. I knew for sure that there was anxiety in them. Why?

Chapter 3 – Curiosity

   I was so tired that I slept as a baby. The smell of food waked me up. It was ham and eggs. Definitely. I stretched and sat up on the bed, thinking how hungry I was. Almost famished. My ankle was better. The swelling had subsided considerably. I noticed that Steven had brought my traveling bag. I dressed myself. The skirt I wore yesterday was not adequate to the morning cold. It didn’t cover my knees. Despite that, I put it on again. I put on a light green blouse and white cotton sock on my right foot. Walking nearly without a limp, I went to the adjacent bathroom. After that, I went downstairs. Steven wasn’t there. He had left a note on the kitchen table. It said that the front axle is broken but he knows someone who can repair my car. It said also that he had prepared breakfast for me and that he hoped I would like it. I did really like it.

   I decided to take a walk. The air was cool and pleasant. In the distance, I saw that the car wasn’t where I had left it. There were weeds everywhere. Obviously, my host didn’t enjoy field work. A harrow path took me behind the house. To my surprise a group of splendid pines were growing there. At least fifty of them. Huddled under the trees was a little bower. I rested a couple of minutes, then stood up and set off for the house. I had made no more then ten steps when I heard something. I turned toward the sound and strayed out of the path. The building was barely visible between the pines. It looked like a barn. The sound became louder. It definitely was a radio or TV. I walked very carefully, trying not to trip on the fallen branches. As I reached the building, I was surprised to see that it is in perfect condition. Painted recently. I get closer to the sole window. What I am doing? It’s not good to be so nosy. In spite of that, I took a deep breath and peered in. A man was watching TV. He was lying on a bed, his head propped on pillows. I gave a start when I saw that his chest was bandaged. The bandages were smeared with blood. My heart missed a beat. What is this man doing here? As I pondered over the subject, he looked toward the window. I stepped back. Did he see me? I could not be sure. Why am I so anxious about that? Possibly, because there is something wrong here.

   “Tiffany, what are you doing here?” Steven was glaring at me, his arms folded. ”Obviously your ankle is better.”

    He appeared completely changed. I was sure he was going to slap me. It was impossible to hide my confusion.

   “I just…” I stammered.

   “Did he saw you?”

   “No.” I answered.

   “Are you sure?”

   “Yes. Who is this man?”

   Steven remained silent. Then he rudely grabbed my left arm above the elbow and dragged me toward the house. His gentle manners were gone.

   “It hurts!” I cried.

   He mumbled something and let go of my arm.

   “Go upstairs!” Steven said as we entered the house.

   “Why?”

   “Just do it!”

   He followed me close behind as I climbed the stairs. Then he locked me into the bedroom, taking my mobile with him.

   “You don’t have the right to do this to me,” I shouted.

Steven didn’t reply. I threw a vase at the closed door. It burst loudly. This made me feel a bit better.

Chapter 4 – Landing

   I contemplated my situation for hours. Without any result. I had formed a wrong opinion about Steven. He was so kind at first. Everything that happened made me feel very stupid. Now, I was convinced that he was doing something illegal. What’s he going to do with me?

   Around noon, Steven unlocked the door and came in carrying a tray.

   “I brought you some food,” he said and put the tray on the table.

   Good. This is definitely a good sign.

   “I am not hungry,” I hissed.

   “I understand how you feel.”

   “Really?”

   “I beg your pardon but I do not intend to argue with you. For the time being, you must stay here! If you need something, let me know. When the man you just saw heals completely, you can go. No more than a week, I suppose. I will explain everything then.”

   “Are you crazy? I can’t stay here,” I said firmly.

   “Sorry.”

   I thought that I should be more patient.

   “Why don’t you explain me everything now?”

   “I don’t want to endanger you.”

   “I won’t tell anyone. I promise. Just let me go.”

   “Stop it!” he said and turned.

   “I need to go to the bathroom.”

   “Of course.”

   After I returned, I noticed that Steven had swept the shards. He didn’t even mention the vase. This made me feel guilty.

This feeling quickly evaporated when he locked me up again. I clenched my fists and cursed.

   In the afternoon Steven brought a small TV set and books.

   “I don’t know what kind of books you like,” he said.

   I didn’t answer.

   “Let me see your ankle! It may need a new dressing.”

   “Oh, it’s very considerate of you. Do not bother! I have never been better. By the way, why don’t you just leave me alone?”              

   I was glad to see that my sarcasm affected him. His face darkened. He turned to leave.

   “Don’t forget to lock the door!” I added.

   He didn’t.

   That is foolish. Why I am trying to irritate him? He can do what he wants. He can even kill me.

   For some time, I nervously walked back and forth. My ankle started aching again. I propped myself on the windowsill and looked through the window. Too high. I can’t do that. It is maybe five meters. Better play it safe. However, what is safe considering my situation?

   I was up all night. I tried to read a book but find it hard to concentrate. The television didn’t help me to relax too. So I just lay and stared at the ceiling. When my stomach started to protest persistently, I ate one of the sandwiches Steven had brought. Notwithstanding, I came to hate him, I doubted that he could poison me.

   Gradually it became lighter. The dawn surprised me. I hadn’t had a wink of sleep. My body felt numb. When I heard the sound of a car engine I hopped up and went to the window. I saw the taillights of an ancient Ford Mustang. Steven was behind the wheel. The car receded into the far distance. Now if ever. At first, I tried the door. Massive wooden door. Unbreakable. As I opened the window and looked down, a lump formed into my throat. Too dangerous!  No one has the right to humiliate me like that, to lock me up as if I am a criminal! I sat on the windowsill and stepped over it. I concentrated a couple of seconds, and then jumped with eyes closed instinctively. At the last second before the impact, I became aware that I am tilted to the right. My right foot contacted the ground. All the weight of my body was on it. My ankle twisted inwards. I cried and fell heavily on the packed ground. Before I hit it, I heard a strange sound. It resembled the sound of a twig being crushed under a booted foot. There weren’t any trees nearby though. Strange. The pain came suddenly. This can’t be true! I do not deserve such agony! I yelled with pain. Is it broken? Of course it is. I have never broken a bone before. I am not prepared for all this. Why did I jump?

  When I mustered enough courage, I looked down at my right foot. The clog had slipped off. I could see the sock clad sole of my foot. My ankle was turned inwards. My toes responded as I willed myself to wiggle them. But the movement sent waves of pain up my leg. I arched my back and whimpered. After wiping the tears away, I focused on my shin. It was angled at the middle. Just looking at it made me feel dizzy. Where is Steven? He is the only one who can help me. The road is too far away. Steven will be mad at me. No doubt about that. I must not be afraid of him. I need him. What a humiliation!

   When I thought that I couldn’t bear the pain any longer Steven returned. He locked his car and made quickly for the front door. I moaned, trying to draw his attention. He blushed as he saw me. His expression showed total confusion. He neared me, his eyes fixed on my mutilated limb.

   “You jumped!” he looked at the open window above, then back at me.

   “I’m sorry.” I mumbled guiltily.

   Steven knelt beside me, scrutinizing my body. I become aware that my skirt was way up my thighs. I pulled it down.

   “It’s just my leg. I don’t feel pain elsewhere,” I said tearfully.

   “It can’t be true! I could not even imagine that you were capable of such stupidity!” he said and walked away from me.

   “Please, help me!” I cried.

   “Do not move! I will be back in a minute. And don’t look at it!”

   Steven gave me an injection. A few minutes later, the pain became bearable. I closed my eyes and sighed.

   “Is it better?” he asked.

   I nodded. At the same time, he lifted my fractured leg and slipped something beneath it. A splint. He adjusted it very carefully and buckled it. The fractured bones moved, digging into the flesh. Clenching teeth, I remained silent.

   “Are you ready?” Steven asked.

   “Ready! About what?”

   “I am going to carry you upstairs.”

   “Yep.”

   I tried to put my thoughts together. Steven won’t drive me to a hospital. This is for sure. However, I need medical care. It looks like he knows what he’s doing but… Maybe he will lock me again and leave me die there. I should not think about such terrible things. He is trying to help me. Nevertheless, if he hadn’t locked me, I would not have jumped off the window.

   Steven lifted me up with ease. I rested my cheek on his shoulder. Immobilized by the splint the pitiful semblance of a leg was jutting out. I was frightened of the possibility of catching it on something. Luckily, Steven was very attentive.

We reached the bedroom uneventfully. He laid me down in my bed and propped my broken leg on pillows. I relaxed a little.

   “Thank you,” I said.

   “I haven’t done anything yet,” he replied and left.

Chapter 5 – I Must Do It

   I don’t want to be alone! Why did he leave? The pain is getting worse again!

    Steven returned. He looked at me and smiled.

   “Did you miss me?’’ he asked.

   “How did you know?’’

   “I see it in your eyes, Tiffany. Don’t worry! Everything is going to be fine. With your permission, I will remove the splint,” he said merrily.

   “Why?”

   “You will see. Have you ever broken a bone?”

   “No.”

   Steven removed the splint. An ugly bluish swelling had formed at the place of the fracture. He gently pulled my sock off. Supporting my broken leg with both hands, he asked me to turn on my stomach. I complied. The movement brought tears into my eyes.

  “Are you really an orthopedist?”  

  “Yes. Don’t be so suspicious! I know what I am doing,” he said calmly, while his hands were supporting my leg.

   As I lay on my stomach, he unexpectedly sat on the back of my thighs, pinning me down. All his weight was on me. Then he bent my knee so that the sole of my foot was against his chest. I felt his grip tightening around my ankle and heel. He tugged. The pain was unbearable. I howled. Tears streamed down my cheeks mingling with a cold sweat. The feeling of bone fragments grating against each other was awesome. As if jagged knives were stuck in my leg, piercing the flesh.  

   “Stop! Please don’t do it! It hurts so much, so much…”

   Steven pulled and twisted once more. He continued tormenting me as though he hadn’t heard my pleas.

   “Please! I can bear it anymore.”

   “I know honey, but I must do it. Just one final tug…that’s it.”

   At last he stopped. I was sobbing quietly, almost happily.           

   “It’s over. The fracture is reduced,” Steven said and stood up.     

    I was physically and emotionally drained from this horrible ordeal. The pain had subsided considerably so I just lay, eyes closed.

    Steven drew closer and placed his hand on my brow.

    “Are you OK?”

    I nodded.

    “I will be back in an hour. Take a rest and don’t move your leg, Tiffany,” Steven said and left.

    Why didn’t he immobilize my leg with the splint? I wanted know what he is up to, but I refrained myself from asking him. Deadly tired, I dozed off. Before long, I waked up with a start, realizing that the effect of the medicine Steven had given me was wearing off. The pain returned. Still tolerable though.

    Steven came back carrying a bag and a bucket with water.      

    “You will put me in plaster!” I exclaimed.

    “Are you surprised?”

    “No… I just thought that the splint is enough…”

    “It isn’t. Don’t be afraid! The procedure is not painful.”

    “I am not afraid.”

    “Let’s do it then, daring girl.”

    He sat on the bed beside me.

    “Nice, pinkish heel,” he commented.

    “It has been like that for as long as I can remember.”

    He laughed.

    I felt something soft touching my toes. The sensation was like slipping a stocking on. The material was white colored. Sitting on the rim of the bed, Steven pulled it up my ankle, then drew it above my knee. His fingers smoothed the wrinkles. Then it dawned on me that the cast will be longer than I expected. Was it necessary to immobilize the knee? Possibly. Two or three years ago, I saw a young woman in a long leg cast. A rubber heel was fixed into the bottom of the cast so she was able to walk quite easily. Her exposed toes were curling up and down funnily at every step. The sound of dripping water got me out of the reverie. Steven was squeezing a plaster bandage. Then he lifted my foot up so that my knee bent at a 90-degree angle and wrapped the plaster around my instep. I was seeing only a part of what he was doing. His movements felt calm and confident. Molding the cast with care, Steven was smoothing it from time to time. Soon the plaster covered my ankle and reached my knee.

   “Could you please turn on your back, Tiffany?”

   Steven helped me to do this, supporting me, then propped the unfinished cast on pillows. After that, he continued his job applying plaster on my knee and thigh. I saw that the cast had a slight bent at the knee.

  “Some time ago I saw a woman with a rubber heel molded into her cast…” I tried to explain.

  “Do not even think about this! Your leg is badly broken.”

  “Is it so bad? Would I be able to walk without a limp?”

  “You will be fully recovered in two months. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “Two months! No!”

  “What you are talking about! You could have killed yourself,” Steven said irritably.

  “You locked me up! Don’t assume an air of innocence!”

  I hit the mark. He was perplexed.

  “I promised to explain everything to you.”

  “Do it!”

  “I will take care of your fractured leg first.”

  I didn’t reply, merely took a deep breath and closed my eyes.   

  Steven finished the cast and propped it on pillows.

  “Don’t be mad at me! I am just a little nervous.”

  “I am not. I am to be blamed,” he said and went out of the room.

   Thinking about the conversation with Steven, I stared at the drying cast. It wasn’t ugly as I expected. It was shaped perfectly, following the outlines of my leg. My toes were sticking out. Wiggling them timidly, I mused why they looked so small. The cast had made them appear childish. Sure.

I could have polished my toenails. This is not important now. Why I am thinking about such trifles? I touched the cast. Hard as stone already. Two months! This can’t be true!

   Steven brought a pair of aluminum crutches. They looked new.

   “I bought these for you.”

   “What a nice present!” I mumbled.

   “You need them.”

   “I know. Thank you.”

He knocked on the cast and looked at me.

   “There is one more thing that I must do.” 

   Steven tied a couple of sheets together, adjusted the length and then hooked this strange contraption on the ceiling using big nails. He gently lifted my casted leg up and placed it in the makeshift sling high above the bed. This position immediately lessened the pain.         

   “You definitely know what you are doing.” I said.

   “Take these pills. You need rest now.”

   A few minutes later, I dropped asleep.

Chapter 6 – The Truth

   It was almost dark when I woke up. The shadows in the room convinced me that the sun was setting, not rising. I became aware that I had to go to the bathroom. I reached out to switch on the light. Too far away. Holding the cast around the knee portion, I lifted it up, then pulled it out of the sling. The cast was heavier than I expected. Swinging sideways, I lowered it down on the floor. Sharp pain stabbed me. I let out a cry. Steven came immediately.      

   “What are you doing?” he asked as he turned on the light.

   “I … I need to go to the bathroom.”

   Without hesitation, he carried me there and placed me on the seat. To my surprise, he had fetched a footstool to rest my casted leg on. So kind.

   “Do you need more help?” Steven asked.

   “I can pull the panties down myself, thank you.”

   “Sorry.”

   “Steven, I am somewhat edgy lately. But I didn’t mean to offend you.”

   “I understand,” he squeezed my left palm delicately. ”Call me when you are ready!” he said and left.

   As I finished, Steven carried me back.

   “The next time I will use the crutches. I promise.”  

   “As you please. It’s up to you. I don’t mind helping you. Your broken leg has to be elevated most of the time. By the way, how is the sprained ankle?”

   “Fine.”

   Steven removed the dressing. The swelling was almost gone. After examining it, he tightly bandaged it anew.  

   “Let’s adjust the crutches,” he said.

    I noticed the green clogs near the bed.

   “The right one is useless,” I said.

   “Just temporarily,” Steven answered.

   Then he slipped the left shoe on my foot and helped me stand up, putting his arm round my waist. I winced as the blood rushed down my shattered leg. Balancing on my almost good leg precariously, I writhed with pain. The room swam before my eyes. In this moment, I realized how helpless I was. Steven’s grip got stronger.

   “I’m holding you,” he assured me.” It’s normal. The pain will abate in a minute.”

   He turned out to be right. After I felt better, he handed me the crutches. I propped myself on them. They were just a bit long for me. Or maybe I am rather short for them. At this thought, I could not help laughing.

   “What?”

   “Nothing. You have to adjust the length!” I announced.

   “At your service.”

   When Steven did it, I took few tentative steps. He gave me some crutching tips and in the meantime changed the sheets. They were spattered with plaster. As I was crutching cautiously, my casted toes were just an inch off the floor, swaying gently back and forth. The clog on my left foot was raising me just enough to make the crutching possible. I was upright, supported on crutches for no more than five minutes. In spite of that, the pain intensified unbearably. It gnawed at my leg. Oh gosh!

   “It’s bedtime, Tiffany.”

   I complied willingly. Ensconced in bed, the cast hanging in the sling, I felt much better. Steven brought a bowl of steaming soup. At first, I was reluctant to eat but the smell was delicious so I tasted it. It turned out that I was very hungry.

Steven sat on a chair near the bed and told me his story.   

   “I am orthopedist. I worked nearly seven years in the clinic. My colleagues thought highly of me. Four months ago, someone slandered me. I was fired. No one helped me. I moved to live here. A stranger came one day. He said that his friend was wounded and that I must do my best to save his life. He knew where Pam lives. My ex-wife. We divorced two years ago. He threatened that she would have an accident if I didn’t obey. I won’t let him hurt Pam. That’s it.”

   “So you agreed!” I said indignantly.

   “I do not want to risk her life.”

   “These men are criminals, Steve! You are helping them!”

   “I know.”              

   “You could just warn her and then call the police.”

   “Maybe you are right but it’s too late now. I will cure the wounded man, and then I’m going to hide somewhere so that no one can find me.”

   “Then there will be no point in hurting her,” I mused.

   “I hope so.”

   “They can do it anyway.”

   Steven nodded and looked down at his shoes.

   “I didn’t mean to be rude.”

   “Don’t apologize, Tiffany! You are right.”

   “I would like to help you somehow.”

   He glanced at my casted leg. I shifted self-consciously.

   “Tiffany, I do not want you to be here when he comes. I don’t like to expose you to danger. Next week, he will check if the wounded man is better. If so, they promised to go away.”

   “My car repaired yet?”

   “Yes. It is parked outside.”

   “I don’t think I can drive. This cast…”

   “Of course not, sweet! I will drive.”

   “My place is 200 miles away.”

   “No problem.”

   “What if I inform the police?”

   “They will kill Pam.”

   “So you are telling me that nothing can be done?”

   “I am doing what I consider to be right.”

   “So be it,” I said reluctantly.

         

Chapter 7 – Crutching Abilities

   The next day was boring as hell. I was watching TV all the time. Reading a book was a good way to beguile the time, but I could not concentrate enough. The pain was persistent. Nevertheless, I have no ground of complaint. It could have been worse. At the recollection of the sound that I heard when my leg broke, I shivered all over. The sight of it, bent grotesquely… The moment when Steven reduced the fracture… I must stop thinking about that!

   I managed to go to the bathroom without breaking another bone. The only problem was when I lowered the cast on the floor. The pain ruthlessly shot up my leg. As it became tolerable, I had no difficulties. When I returned, I hobbled around the room, practicing my crutching. By the minute, I got more familiar with the crutches.             

   Steven had brought my mobile so I gave my boss a ring. I explained that I had had an accident and my leg was broken. After that, I called my colleague in Seattle apologizing about breaking the appointment.

   I could have called 911. This was probably the only sensible decision. Am I making a big mistake? Time will show.

   My thoughts drifted into another direction. Perhaps I was unconsciously trying to calm myself down. The cast is so cute! It is protecting the broken bones; moreover it is healing me through immobility. I can move only my toes. They are the only sign that my leg still exists. I am glad to be able to wiggle them. There is something strange about the immobility. Of course, it causes a lot of discomfort but at the same time, there is something erotic in it. It makes me feel vulnerable. As though, I am screaming without words that I need attention. There is something more. It is not only the immobility. The cast Steven molded is not just covering my leg. It is showing it off somehow. Not only my bare toes. The sling is adding another aspect. Elevated high above the bed, my casted leg is an unspoken invitation. Maybe I am pervert… I felt my vagina becoming wet.    

   Steven entered the room, startling me. I shifted nervously. His eyes fell on me. I looked aside. 

   “Are you in pain?” he asked and placed my lunch on the table near the bed.

   “A little.”

   “Did you take your pills?”

   “Yes.”

   “Do you need something?”

   “New leg. Can you solve this problem?”

   “I admit my mistake. I am so guilty. You broke…”

   “I am merely grumbling.”

   “Everything is going to be fine. You will see,” he smiled, tickled playfully my casted toes and left.

   The first thing I did the next morning was to take a bath. I undressed in the bathroom. Taking off my panties was a matter of some difficulty. Finally, I managed to pull them down the cast. Sitting on the rim of the tub, I gave myself a sponge bath. I removed the bandage so that to be able to clean my left foot. The swelling was gone completely. I washed myself, diligently taking care not to wet the cast. When I made sure that my casted toes are clean too, I toweled myself dry. At the end, I washed my hair in the sink. This simple procedure took a long time because I had to support myself with the right hand. The pain began tormenting me again.

   Leaning on the crutches, I made for the bedroom. What a pathetic sight! I am stark naked, except for the cast and the clog on my left foot. Why did I forget to take the clean clothes with me? I don’t want to be seen like that. Let’s hope he is not into the bedroom. He wasn’t. I felt some relief. Then, I got dressed as quick as I could. The tight skirt was barely covering the top of the cast. The black stocking I had pulled on my good leg was contrasting with the whiteness of the plaster. It made the cast look bigger. I enjoyed the effect for a minute, and then lay to rest.                         

  Subsequently, I decided to go downstairs. When I reached the landing, I wasn’t so sure of myself. At least twenty stairs. What if I trip? Steven had given me some crutching tips but…What’s going on with me? I have never been so chicken hearted.  I must do it! Taking one step at a time, I climbed cautiously down the stairs.

   “Are you confident enough, young lady?” Steven was looking anxiously at me.          

   I nodded.                       

   “Do not hesitate to…”

   “Thank you, I am fine.”

   What a miracle! I did it!

   I helped him to prepare the meal. We ate silently. Steven was in no mood for talking. When he finished, he said that he had to go. I was alone again. There was a book on the mantelpiece. “Body of truth” by David Lindsey. I didn’t want to go upstairs so I settled comfortably in the couch, propped my broken leg on pillows and started reading. The book turned out to be quite interesting. I read more then three hours. Steven was still outdoors. My back got numb so I sat up and stretched. Then I took the crutches and got up, placing them under my arms. The pain rudely reminded me that my leg was broken.       

   I climbed the stairs quite expertly. Walking on crutches is not so difficult after all. Only the pain is an obstacle. I stopped before the bedroom door. Then, I reached with my left hand to open it. The crutch slipped out from under my armpit and fell on the floor. I tried to keep my balance. Unsuccessfully. The other crutch flew away too. As there was nothing to support me anymore, I sprawled in the corridor. The cast thudded on the tiles. I cried out with pain. A minute later I stopped writhing, and took a deep breath. If the fractured bones are displaced…. Anything but that! I wiggled my casted toes. The pain was tolerable. After I wiped the tears from my eyes, I collected the crutches and leant them on the wall. Then I stood up using the wall for support. Propped on the crutches, I hobbled very slowly to the bed. It was not until I adjusted my poor leg into the sling that I felt better.                    

    An hour later, Steven came in.     

    “I bought Chinese food. Do you want me to bring it over?” he said.

    “No, I will come.”

    I was climbing down the stairs for the second time today, but I wasn’t so self-confident. A couple of times, I stopped to rest. When I reached the kitchen, I saw that Steven had set the table. The food was delicious. Afterwards, he kindled the fire. We settle on the couch, drinking scotch and chatting. I elevated my casted leg on a chair. Steven helped me to place a pillow under it. Though he was doing it with discretion, I noticed that he was glancing at my legs from time to time.            

   “My toes itch. Do you mind rubbing them?”

   Without uttering a word, he lifted the cast off the pillow and put it in his lap. I turned sideways. The top of the cast was resting on the thigh of my stockinged leg. He rubbed my toes tenderly. The sensation was pleasant. Much more pleasant than I expected. He is very experienced! He has done this many times before. I am sure. When his fingers probed under the cast, I moaned softly.

   “Am I hurting you?” Steven asked.

   “No, I just…’’

   Unexpectedly, I am at a loss for words. I don’t like this predicament at all.         

   “That’s enough. Thank you.” I said.

   Steven stopped massaging my toes and looked guiltily at me. I took the cast below the knee portion and lifted it up a few inches. Drawing myself nearer, I straddled Steven’s lap. My bottom pressed on his groin. Steven looked surprised, but not confused.

   “Tiffany, this is the wrong time to…”

   “Why?” I said and kissed his neck.

   “I have a lot of problems. I told you,” he said irritably.

   “I thought that you like me.”

   “I like you very much.”  

   “Then what’s the problem? It is definitely not your erection. I feel something stirring beneath me.” I slipped my hands under his T- shirt and placed them on his chest.

   “I said, no!” his voice didn’t seem very confident.

   “Do you still love her?” I asked.

   “You mean Pamela?”

   “Exactly.”

   “We are just friends.”

   “Steve, you are thinking too much.” I said gravely.

   “You are right. Sorry.”

   “I had to try, Steve. I like you. You are very kind and the way you were looking at me…Moreover, you took good care of me when I broke my leg. I am just trouble for you,” I said and took my hands away from him.

   “Tiffany, you are talking too much.”

   He hugged me. My breasts pressed on his chest. His lips pecked my cheek, moved up touching gently the sensitive spot behind my ear. I caressed his neck. Our lips met. The kiss was long and passionate. It took my breath away. Literally. I can’t breathe. What’s going on? I turned my head aside and inhaled deeply. When I realized what the problem was, I couldn’t help laughing.             

   “What?”

   “My nose is stuffed up. I caught a cold when I took a bath. It may sound stupid but I almost got choked when…”

   Shaking with laughter, Steven kissed the tip of my nose.

   “Do not become distracted!” I said and rubbed the swelling in his pants.

   He helped me to take off my blouse. Then he unbuckled my bra and cupped my breasts. His tongue tickled my erect nipples. I fumbled with his belt. After placing his hands on my thighs, Steven slipped them under my skirt. I hadn’t put panties on. That made the things a lot easier. At last, I overcame the tenacious belt and freed his penis. He lifted my hips up and I guided it in me. Due to the cast, I was unable to move about freely. Steven took the initiative. He coped with the problem quite expertly. When the time came, I arched my back and tried to choke down the cry in my throat. I failed.

   We did it one more time. My legs were at the center of his attention this time. Steven caressed my stockinged leg. He kissed my knee, and then moved his lips down my calf. He took his time exploring my ankle. Soon afterward, I felt his wet tongue tickling the sole of my foot. At the same time he was gently rubbing my heel and caressing my toes. It was unbelievable. No one had ever done such things to me. When he started sucking my casted toes, I was in ecstasies.

   “You have such delicate bones!” he whispered.

   “It is a compliment. Isn’t it?

   After the intercourse, I was so tired that I dropped asleep. Some time later, I awoke and became aware that Steven was carrying me upstairs. My eyes closed, I didn’t give sign that I am awake. He placed me cautiously in the bed and elevated the cast in the sling. Before leaving, Steven covered me with a blanket and kissed my left temple.                        

   

Chapter 8 – Homecoming

 

  The next day, Steven drove me home. On the way, we had lively conversation. The only topic left untouched was our love making yesterday. 

  Steven pulled up before my house and helped me out of the car. I waited supporting myself on the passenger door as he brought the crutches along. I tucked them under my armpits. 

  “Why don’t you come in?” I asked and headed toward the front door.

  “I have to go.”

  There was tension in his voice.

  “Could you please park the car in the garage?”

  “Of course,” he mumbled.

  “There is a blue Honda inside. Take it. It is old but in good working order.”

  “No. I will take a bus.”

  “Do as I tell you!”

  “OK.”

  I stopped and looked at him.

  “Am I gonna see you again?” I asked.

  “I will call you.”

  I hobbled into the house, found the keys and returned to the front door. Steven was standing outside, looking down at the ground.   

  “Good luck, Steve! You are nice guy,” I said as I gave him the keys.

  “Thank you, Tiffany! I…I am so sorry about your leg.”

  “I am fine.”

  “Your leg has to be X-rayed! Promise me to do it as soon as possible!” he neared me and pecked my cheek.

  “You think that the broken bones are not set correctly?” I asked. 

  “We have to be sure.”

  “OK.”

   I watched as the car disappeared behind the corner. 

   I am alone. I have never been more despondent. Am I falling in love with him? This is stupid. I don’t even know him. We just had sex. That’s all. All this reasoning didn’t help me feel better.

   A week passed. The pain was bearable. Most of the time, I stayed home. When the weather allowed, I was going out in the garden. Since I couldn’t drive, my neighbors were so kind to do the shopping for me. Some of my colleagues came to see me. It was disturbing. They were asking too many questions. Moreover, they were gaping at the cast as if I was some kind of freak. One of them even said that I must not stay alone, and that he would like to attend to my needs. I barely restrained from hitting him.

   Steven didn’t call. I tried to call him but his mobile was switched off. I must forget him. I like him. I like him very much. So what! I can scratch my itching toes myself.

   Four weeks after I broke my leg, the pain was completely gone. I didn’t need painkillers anymore. I was using the crutches expertly, and started to go out with friends. Maybe it is time for the cast to be removed. If so, I will be able to work again. The cast reminds me of Steven. I must rid myself of it.                        

   One Wednesday morning, I crutched nearly a mile. It was hard. When I finally got to the park, I was tired so I dropped on a bench to rest. I felt into a reverie. My eyelids got heavier. I dozed off. A strange sound startled me. A tall brawny man was standing beside me. His digital camera was pointed at me.

   “What are you doing?” I asked angrily.

   “I am taking pictures,” he answered and smiled nervously.

   “What are you interested in?”

   “Your cast.”

   “Haven’t you seen a cast?” I said mockingly.

   “A couple of months ago but she wasn’t as beautiful as you.”

   “Really?”

   “Yes. What happened to your leg?”

   “I broke it.’’

   “What a pity! I hope the cast will be taken off soon,” the man said and stared lewdly at me.            

   “Why do you have such hopes?”

   “It is pretty clear. You must show your gorgeous legs!”

   “I am showing the left one.”

   “It is not enough for me. I want them both. I hope you will recover soon,” he announced and gave me his card.

   A lawyer.

   “I regret to say that, but this is not possible. Look at my toes! Now I’m trying to wiggle them, but they would not even twitch. I had an accident. Car crash. My knee is virtually pulverized. The nerves and tendons are severed. The joint is crushed. The doctors tried their best but…They said that the chance of saving the leg was very slim. It eventually will be amputated. I am already looking forward to my prosthesis.”

    The man mumbled something. Then he turned awkwardly, and started along the lane.

   “I could send it to you when they cut it off. You said you want it,” I called out.

   He quickened his pace. I giggled and wiggled my casted toes.

   When he disappeared, I stood up, leant on the crutches and headed home.

  

Chapter 9 – Recast

    I sneezed. The doctor was cutting the cast laterally using a cast saw. The feeling was unpleasant. When he finished, he pried it open. I saw my leg for the first time since Steven applied the cast. The sight was not a pleasant one. There was a lot of dead skin. Luckily, I am not very hairy. The nurse cautiously lifted my injured leg, and removed the cast. Then she cleaned my leg diligently. She stopped me, as I tried to flex my knee.

   The doctor scrutinized the X-rays, frowned and looked again.

   “Is there a problem?” I asked.

   “No. The bones are knitting well.”

   They applied the new cast. The nurse who cleaned my leg assisted the doctor. Long leg cast again! Oh, no! It is straight at my knee! How I am going to walk now? When they fitted a rubber pad into the bottom of the cast, I realized that I would be able to put weight on my leg.

   I lay on the examining table, waiting for the cast to dry.  The door opened. A young woman was wheeled in on a stretcher. No more then 25 ears old. Her face was pale. Her long auburn hair was matted. She looked very frightened. Her long legs were bare. There was a terrible swelling just above her right knee. Dark blue. On her left thigh, an uglier bruising was reaching her hip. Her chin was trembling. She clutched fists and closed her eyes. A barely audible moan escaped her mouth.

   “It isn’t half so bad. We reduced the fractures. There is no need of surgery,” the doctor said mildly.             

   “It hurts a lot,” the girl whispered hoarsely.

   “I know, I know. But the worst is over, honey. How old are you?”

   “23.”

   “What is your name?”

   “Casey Sanders.”

   “I am Dr. Campbell. Tell me what happened, Miss Sanders!”

   “I was walking along the sidewalk. I heard brakes screeching. The next thing I remember was the paramedic. He said that I was hit by a truck, and that my legs are broken, and I should not move. I was lifted and placed on a stretcher. It hurt like hell. Then I saw my legs…a horrible sight. That’s all.”

   The nurse brought plaster bandages and a pail of water. A red haired nurse came in, pushing a cart before her.

   “Let’s get down to work!” said Dr. Campbell.

   The nurses raised Casey’s left leg and slipped stockinet on it. I saw that she was suffering badly. She winced at every movement.

   “Easy, easy!” shouted the doctor.

   They continued working, but much more slowly and cautiously than before. Soon the stockinet covered her right leg too. Then the nurses moved aside. The doctor smoothed a crease on the white cloth. When he was satisfied he wrapped Casey’s legs with wadding. After that he dipped a plaster bandage into the water and squeezed it. The red haired nurse was supporting the girl’s leg as the doctor was applying the plaster. Working meticulously, they encased her legs.

   “Took off her sweater! Her panties too!” said Dr. Campbell.

    As I was wondering, why they are going to take off her panties, the red haired just it. She just cut the panties using a scissors. Then she pulled the remnants out. Casey’s private parts were clearly visible. I was shocked by this humiliation. No one paid any attention to me. The girl was looking at the ceiling dizzily. Obviously, she wasn’t aware what they were doing. Then, large stockinet was pulled over her shoulders and slipped down. It covered her slim waist. I understood everything.

    “I am sorry for embarrassing you, but you have to stay here till your cast dries. We try to keep within the bounds of decorum but in this case… we cure. Decency is not of much importance,” the doctor said to me.

    “You are right. Moreover, you got used to all this misery,” I answered.

    The nurses brought a strange looking frame and attached it on the sides of the examining table. They helped Casey sit up and attached a padded sling under her armpits. It girded her chest above the bra. She looked sorrowfully around the room, but I doubted that that she saw me. The sling was connected to the frame with ropes. The doctor pressed a button. I heard a buzz. The ropes strained. Inch by inch Casey’s upper body was hoisted. When her bottom was nearly a foot above the table Dr. Campbell pressed the button again, and the buzzing stopped. Casey was hanging helplessly like a puppet. Only her casted heels were resting on the table. Her expression revealed that she is totally bewildered. No one paid attention or gave any explanation. They set to work again. As the doctor was plastering her waist, the nurses spread Casey’s legs wide apart with a bar just above her ankles. Applying more plaster on her hips, Dr. Campbell finished the cast, leaving her private parts exposed. The nurses pulled the stockinet up revealing Casey’s toes and anchored it with more plaster bandages. That was all. They left to wash themselves. I was mesmerized. Casey was plastered mercilessly from the base of her slender toes to just above her navel. Poor thing!

   “Am I disgusting?’’ Casey asked, startling me.

   “No! You are not.”

   “Bullshit!”

   “Everyone has difficult moments. You will overcome it,” I said.

    Her eyes welled with tears.

   “It could have been worse,” I said.

   She nodded. We kept silence for a couple of minutes. I looked at the window wondering if my presence was disturbing her. Maybe she wants to be alone.

   “Is your leg broken?” Casey inquired.

   “Yes.”

   “How?”

   “Car crash.”

   “When?”

   “Eight weeks ago.”

   “Is it still hurts?”

   “No.”

   “Are you able to walk?”

   “Yes.”

   “You are so lucky. I will be bed ridden.”

   “Look Casey, you are alive. This is important, now. Admit it!”

   “I want to ask you a favor,” she said.

   “Go ahead!”

   “I have a dog. Buddy. French bulldog. He is very cute. Could you please go to my apartment and feed him!”

   “Of course,” I complied.

   “Thank you. I will ask my neighbors to take charge of him as soon as possible.”

   Casey told me where the keys of her apartment were and how to get there. It turned out that we are almost neighbors.

   Dr. Campbell came back. He checked my cast and told me that I could go. I wished Casey fast recovery and left.

   I was very content that I could put weigh on my right leg. However, when I tried to walk without the aid of the crutches, I nearly fell. Part of the problem was the walking pad. It made my casted leg a couple of inches longer than the good one. When I got home, I put a high-heeled boot on my left leg. The equilibrium was restored. Nevertheless, I soon realized that I still needed a crutch. Slipping one of the crutches under my left arm I went down to the basement and threw the other crutch there. I was walking almost without a limp now. This cheered me up a bit. I decided to take care of the dog.                 

    It took me just twenty minutes to get to Casey’s apartment. I was pride of my walking abilities. The apartment was on the third floor. I climbed the stairs with ease. Unlocking the front door, I stepped in. Buddy appeared immediately. He had short legs and barrel chest. His head was disproportionately wide and square. His coat was dark brown. He looked at me with his almost human eyes and chugged. Very soon, I found his food. All the time Buddy followed at my heels. He ate with a great appetite. When he finished, I patted his head. He snorted. I patted him again and headed to the front door. Buddy sniffed at my cast. There was curiosity into his eyes. He sniffed again.

   “Does it smell strange, nosy dog?”

   Buddy chugged and licked the tips of my casted toes. It was ticklish. I giggled.

   “Stop it, feet lover! This is not decent.”

   He didn’t seem to be ashamed. Stupid dog. I rubbed his back, then come out and locked the door. As I was turning the key, I heard Buddy whimpering.

   The next morning I got into the car. There wasn’t enough space for my casted leg. I pushed the seat backwards, settled comfortably, started the engine and engaged the first gear. My casted foot was on the accelerator but I didn’t feel it. Very inconvenient. After an hour of practicing in the inner courtyard, I acquired the necessary habits. Part of the flowers were crushed nastily. Mrs. Dell was staring with wide-open eyes as the car waded through the flowerbed. I waved to her smiling my best smile.              

   I got to the hospital without killing anyone. To my great satisfaction I didn’t even crash. Casey’s room was on the fifth floor. I got there, knocked on the door and entered. She was lying on the bed beside the window. Her casted legs were hanging in slings. Her body was covered with a sheet from the knees to the armpits. The other bed was unoccupied. She smiled as she saw me.

   “Are you better yet?’’ I asked.

   Casey nodded. She looked younger than yesterday. Her face was pale, but not contorted by suffering. Someone had brushed her hair. Her arms were resting calmly beside her body. I put the bunch of the surviving flowers into an empty vase. She looked pleased.  

    “Do you need something?” I questioned.

    “Is Buddy OK?”

    “Yeah. He is fine. Are you still in pain?”

    “Trey gave me some pills. The worst is that I have to stay here more then a month. I can’t bear it so long.”

     A tear trickled down her cheek. I sat on a stool.

    “You can,” I said.

    “It’s easier said than done. I have never been in such situation. I am used to leading an active life. Now I have to call the nurse if I want to pee. I can’t even scratch my toes,” Casey explained indignantly.

    “What about your legs?” I asked.

    “The thigh bones are broken. It will take more than four mounts to heal.’’

    “I’m so sorry!”

    “I won’t take up more of your time with this. You have problems too. I am much obliged to you. Buddy will be OK. My neighbours will take charge of him.”

    “He can stay with me if you don’t mind. I like him.”

    Casey’s face brightened. She reached out and squeezed my hand.

    “So kind of you, Tiffany. You are such a nice girl! I am sure that Buddy likes you too.”

    “Yes, he does.”

    I prepared to leave. My casted leg felt numb and sore. Obviously, I had overburdened it. I have to be more careful. I need to rest more.

   As I limped toward the door, I noticed that Casey wiggled her toes. They were slender and delicate. I want to touch them. I managed to refrain myself from doing it. It wasn’t so easy. What’s going on with me?

Chapter 10 – Routine

    Buddy was really a great dog. He liked his new home. Whenever I went, he followed me at my heels. He was keen on sleeping in my bed, but I kicked him off. He looked at me with his human eyes and retreated reluctantly. Casey hadn’t told me that he was snoring. I have to get used to his snoring. This will be in my favor when I get married one day.

    I started working again. It wasn’t easy. I am real estate agent, and I have to travel frequently. The cast was a huge obstacle. My colleagues gave me a hand when necessary. Some of them were overzealous though. This was a little annoying. I must admit that I was more noticeable than before. The females became jealous. To my surprise, I managed to sell one of the most expensive properties in our list. 

   I had sex with Rick. He is 29, blond and quite attractive. He is accountant in the agency. We went to a rock concert together. Evanescence. He was beside me all the time. He was afraid that I may fall. I said that I am not so helpless. In this moment, someone pushed me unintentionally. I poked the boor’s shin with the crutch. The man yelled. Rick burst with laughter. After the concert, I invited him home. Buddy was barking angrily as Rick was struggling to undress me. I locked the dog out. He looked accusingly at me, and chugged before the door closed with a slam. The cast was disturbing Rick. He unsuccessfully tried to hide that. Every time he bumped against the cast, he apologized. He just didn’t know what to do with it. I had painted my toenails green. Rick didn’t pay them any attention. His attention was concentrated on my tits and face, then- between my legs. The cast was an obstacle to Rick. I had to tell him what to do with it. As a whole, the fucking was good but during it, I was thinking about Steven. Somehow, Rick understood. Before he left, he faced me and said:

   “I hope to keep friends with you, Tiffany.”

   “I hope too, Rick,” I said and kissed him.

    I felt guilty. I wanted to be with Steven. Where is he now? Why isn’t he calling?                     

    I visited Casey again. They had turned her on her side. A pile of pillows was supporting her hip and waist. The position didn’t look very comfortable. She did not complain though. I noticed that her toenails were painted pink. The color suited her. We chatted for some time. Casey didn’t tell who painted her toes. I didn’t ask. As I assured her that Buddy is ok, I went back home. Buddy was waiting into the kitchen, gazing at the fridge, drooling.

    The days slipped by. It was time to meet Dr. Campbell again.

    I knocked on the door and entered. He helped me on the examining table. After he cut the cast and pry it open, I saw the same sorry sight as before. Scaling dead skin. The nurse cleaned it. I aided her. My right leg seemed to be thinner than the other. The doctor examined it thoroughly. As he bent my knee, I winced. It was surprisingly stiff. I hadn’t flexed it more then two months.  The X-rays showed that everything is fine. The doctor explained everything about the physiotherapy.

    “Thank you, doc. I will see you,’’ I said preparing to leave.         

    “No one wants to see me frequently,” Dr. Campbell answered.

    “Nothing personal. Don’t you think so?”

    He nodded, smiled and opened the door for me.

    I moved down the long corridor. On my quite recently uncasted leg, I had put on a black leather high-heeled boot. It looked newer than the left one and was somewhat loose- fitting. The crutch was under my right armpit. To my displeasure, I was limping badly. My right leg was still so weak and numb that I was barely able to put weight on it. I hadn’t expected this. That spoiled my mood. Sharp cry echoed into the corridor. It was difficult to determine whether it was a man or a woman. Only the anguish was unquestionable.

    “Almost there, almost there,” someone was repeating soothingly.     

    The cry changed its pitch and trailed away. I left the hospital as quickly as possible.          

    I spent more than an hour in the tub. It was the first decent bath I had had for quite a while. My leg felt much better. I heard scratching on the door. Buddy. The noise continued. It started to drive me crazy. I got out of the tub and hobbled to the door. The dog was siting on the tiles. His chest throbbed with cardiac excitement. He was drooling, his eyes fixed on me. I took a towel and covered myself turning sideways self-consciously.

   “What do you want, you fool?”

   Buddy pawed at my bare feet. He kept staring at me with his human-like eyes.  

   The next day I bought an elbow crutch. It was black colored and light as a feather, its grip exceptionally comfortable. Now I was able to walk faster than before. Climbing stairs was also easier.    

   There was important meeting on Tuesday. It was about five storied building in the center. Two and a half million dollars. The negotiations were not too successful. My boss and I could not help much. We tried to mediate but without avail. Both parties were nervous. The things would not go. I proposed to take a break. Everyone agreed. I had propped the crutch on the wall behind my chair. No one except my boss had seen it yet. I reached out and took it. As I was rising on my feet, supporting on the crutch, my injured leg cramped. I let out a moan and slumped into the chair. My calf was hard as a stone and painful. The men gathered round me.

   “Just a cramp,” I explained. 

   One of them, a man in his forties came closer and kneeled down beside me. He took the high-heeled pump off my right foot. Then he pressed his palm under the sole of the foot and pushed up. The cramped muscles gradually went slack. Afterwards, he massaged my calf for nearly five minutes.

   “Thanks. Very kind of you! I’m fine now,” I said.            

   “I will be pleased to do it again,” he whispered.  

   I did not comment his words. As I returned from the bathroom, the negotiations continued. This time, they were in a composed manner. Something had changed. Some of the men were casting furtive glances at me. Finally, the deal was made. We succeeded.

  After the meeting was over, the boss pulled up to me.

   “You put up a great show, Tiffany. Please do not recover too quickly! We will be making good money,” he smiled contentedly and winked at me.   

   His words sounded more like a curse to me. I frowned. He patted my shoulder before leaving.

Chapter 11 – Pamela

   It was a quiet Sunday afternoon. I was sitting in an armchair, watching TV. Unexpectedly dull day. The rain had stopped but the sky was still overcast. I had planed to go out with friends. The rain ruined it all. Moreover, there was nothing interesting on TV.

   The doorbell rang. I went to the front door supporting myself on the crutch. A tall woman was standing outside. She was blond and athletic, and looked to be in her late twenties. A pair of gray eyes was staring down at me. The left corner of her mouth twitched up in a wry smile.

   “I am Pamela,” the woman said.

   “Pamela?”

   “Dr. Steven Corbett was my husband once. Can I come in?”

   I let her in. Her big cowboy boots clicked loudly on the tiles. I closed the door and followed her into the living room. She sat on the couch and crossed her legs. I slumped into the armchair opposite her. 

   “What happened to you?” she asked and pointed at the crutch.

   “Car crash,” I answered without hesitation.

   “Did he treat you?”

   “Yes.”

   “Can you tell me where is he now. I can’t find him.”

   “How did you find me? What makes you think that I know where he is?”

   “Oh! This is a long story. His mobile is constantly switched off. I got anxious about him so I went to his house. It was locked. Steven has a friend in the village. He is mechanic. I asked him about Steven. He didn’t know where he is but he remembered the registration number of your car. I thought that you are a friend of sorts, and here I am. I just want to know that he is OK. I am not interested in your relationships with him.”

   As Pamela was talking, something was bugging me. I couldn’t determine exactly what it was. Maybe I simply don’t like her. I had the feeling that I was missing something important.

   “I don’t know his whereabouts,” I said.

   “Are you dead sure?”

   There was a hint of malice in her voice.

   “Absolutely,” I answered and stood up propping myself on the crutch.

   Pamela uncrossed her legs and stood up too. She followed me down the corridor, toward the front door. Her boots were clicking behind me. In this moment, I understood. This woman is not Pamela. What a silly fool I am! I wore Pamela’s green clog when I broke my leg. Steven gave it to me. This woman here has big feet. Suddenly, I lost my balance. The crutch slipped away from me and clattered on the tiles. She had viciously kicked it. I sprawled down heavily. Before I could react, she pressed me down. Her strong hands grabbed my throat, strangling me.

   “Listen to me very carefully! I am gonna kill you if you do not tell me. I mean it. Where is he?” she cried into my face.  

   I could smell her foul breath.

   “I don’t know. Really. Ever heard of toothpaste?” I stuttered.

   Her eyes popped out. She slapped me.

   “You think you are very smart? I am gonna knock this stupid idea out of your pretty head,” she said and slapped me again.

   “Who are you?”

   “I will tell you. Your friend betrayed us. The police killed my brother. Another man was arrested. Pamela already got what she deserved. She didn’t tell me where Steven had gone and… Now it’s your turn. So what?”

   “I do not know anything,” I cried.

   She seized my left hand and twisted brutally. My wrist gave a crack. I tried to kick her but she pinned me down. I wondered if someone heard my cries. Then, I heard a growl. Buddy. I had forgotten about him. The dog barked and flew at the assailant. She lifted her arms to protect her throat and fell sideways. Buddy bit her. It was her turn to cry this time. I retrieved the crutch and managed to get up on my shaky feet. Meantime the blond bitch pushed Buddy away and rushed towards the front door. Making a couple of steps forward, I aimed carefully and kicked her ass. She howled, then fumbled with the lock as she was trying to escape. Her breathing was laboured. Buddy was still barking loudly. The bitch finally opened the door. I expected that she would run away, but she turned back. There was a gun in her hand. She fired at Buddy. The dog whimpered and stepped back. Then she leveled the weapon at me. Instinctively, I plunged backwards. Something buzzed beside my ear. I fell heavily on the tiled corridor. My injured leg bumped against the wall. The pain was so strong that I almost fainted. The bitch didn’t soot again. She just slipped out and shut the front door. The dog was bleeding. He tried to reach the wound and lick it. It looked like the bullet had just grazed him. My wrist was swollen. I took the crutch. Leaning on the wall, I stood up with difficulty. My right leg was of no use. I was barely able to put weight on it. It hurt precisely at the spot of the fracture. I hopped to the living room and got to the phone. Then, I called 911. As I was talking, Buddy was staring at me pitifully.

   

Chapter 12 – Too Sad To Be True

    I was lying on the same examining table as before. Dr. Campbell had just finished the cast. My toes were sticking out funnily. Even this sight could not drive my despondency away. The cast reached all the way up to my hip. My knee was bent at almost 90-degree angle. Hairline fracture. It was at the same place where I had broken my leg three months ago. That’s what the doctor said. The bump against the wall had caused it. If it is just a hairline fracture, why is the cast so big? Dr. Campbell didn’t explain that. Was he trying to punish me? As he saw the X- rays he frowned and said that I should have been more careful. How could I be more careful? I was attacked. My left wrist was broken too. White plaster covered it, going all the way up to my elbow. I could move my thumb and fingers quite freely. As the casts dried, I was placed on a wheelchair. A nurse put my casted leg on the footrest. Then, she wheeled me out of the examining room. I had the feeling that the wheelchair made my injuries look more serious than they really were. I felt uncomfortable with that, because the people were looking with compassion at me.        

  I was taken home by an ambulance. Two police officers were waiting outside. We got in and I settled comfortably on the couch. Then, I explained what had happened. Buddy came along and sat beside me. His wound was disinfected and bandaged. I told them almost everything I knew, including about Steven, and that he had treated injured criminals. I spoke in support of him, saying that he had been threatened. The younger of the officers said that Pamela and Steven were still missing. The woman who had attacked me had not been caught yet.  I promised to call them if new information shows up. The older of the officers, whose name was Shipler, said that they would be protecting me. He pointed at a car parked outside, and assured me that I should not worry about anything except my broken bones. I smiled as wryly as I could. The young officer was so kind as to bring me the crutches from the basement. In my condition, the single elbow crutch was useless. I thanked him and they both left.                 

    I fed Buddy and drank myself to sleep.

THE END