Page 22 of Leland

Was what normal?

My head fell to the side and I cried out.

Oh no. Was it falling off?

“My head!” I cried.

“What’s wrong with it, darlin’? Does it hurt?” Elliot asked. Leland sat me up a little straighter and my head fell forward. It was definitely falling off. Why couldn’t they see?

“Is falling off! Is gonna fall on the floor! My head came off! Help! Help!”

Suddenly I was laying in Leland’s arms like a baby. My butt was in his lap and one of his arms was under my legs and the other was on my back. My head was nestled into the crook of his elbow.

“It’s okay, baby. Your head is just fine. The medicine is making you feel a little wonky, okay?” Elliot explained. He was laughing too. What was so funny?

“Daddy won’t let your noggin’ fall off, Sugar. I’ve got you,” Leland said, looking down at me.

“You promise? Cause we’re already short one artist and we can’t manage to be down two, so my head really needs to stay on my body, ‘kay?”

“Okay, baby. I got it.”

***

Leland

A strongly medicated Rouge was hilarious. Once I’d promised I wouldn’t let her head fall off for the third time, she fell asleep in my arms. I was thankful, though; she’d been in so much pain. I’d driven her home while Bash took care of locking up the shop for me. Kay and Elliot followed behind me in their own cars. Every once in a while she would rouse enough to say something silly, then fall right back to sleep.

Carrying Rouge into my house just felt right, but having her in my bedroom felt even better. Laying her gently on my bed, I took the warm cloth from Kay and cleaned up her face a bit more. The bastard who’d hit her had been wearing a ring. That’s what had caused the gash above her eye. Elliot didn’t believe any of her ribs were broken or that she had a concussion, but was graciously staying the night to help me wake her every hour. He really was a good man.

Rouge stirred and whined. I patted her belly softly.

“Hot,” she groaned, pulling at her long dress. “Turn the microwave off.”

“Rouge, do you want Daddy to change your clothes?”

She was asleep before she could even answer me.

“Do you want to change her clothes?” Kay whispered, trying not to laugh at Rouge. Poor girl was high as a kite.

“Yeah. Do you mind helping?”

“No, I’d be glad to. Where are your shirts?”

“In the dresser, second drawer to the left,” I answered, taking her boots and socks off. Ten black-polished toenails brought a smile to my face. Even her feet were precious.

Kay grabbed the shirt as I started peeling her long sleeve Lolita dress off. I swear it had twenty buttons down the front. She loved to wear them, but I didn’t know how she could stand it in the Georgia heat. Finally the last button was undone and I slowly pulled her left arm out of the fabric. What I saw made me freeze. Cuts, seven of them covered her arm. Most were angry and red, some pink, and some white. Scars. These weren’t from tonight. “Fuck.”

“Leland?” Kay asked, her voice shaky. She’d seen them too.

“She’s been cutting,” I said, stating the obvious.

Kay’s hand on my shoulder was encouraging. I reached up and patted it.

“Well get her through this, Leland. She’s already doing much better.”

I nodded, but couldn’t form the words to answer her. My sweet girl had been hurting much worse than I knew. Maneuvering her other arm from the dress, I was relieved to see it was unmarked.

As I managed to pull her fishnets off her legs, I got angry at the bastard that hurt her all over again. Her pale legs were covered in fresh bruises. Gently working her into the shirt, Ichecked her body for any more injuries. Satisfied, I tucked her under the covers.

---