The Angel Within

Jareth stared at the thick, flat leather band and sighed. He’d been so pissed to see Runa like that he was surprised that the sidewalk hadn’t lit on fire when he’d stormed out. Now that he was behind his desk, in class (or between classes anyway), he was calm enough to realize that she had been absent for good reason yesterday. He wasn’t expecting to see her today, either. Not with those bruises.
He leaned back in his chair and fingered the band. Jesus, what in hell had happened to her? Was it a boyfriend? Home? Maybe just a random fight with a stranger? He had no idea. It was becoming all too clear just how little he knew about Runa. That pissed him off almost as much as thinking about the bastard who had dared to lay his hands on her. But that was the thing: No one in their right mind would dare to touch her. Not without having a prior suicide wish. Her father would never-
He stopped, his eyes widening as he sat straight. A bell tolled overhead, but he ignored the students filing in, hiding the bracelet in his pocket and faking searching for something in his drawers. His mind was in shock. There was only one possible explanation. Only one person would dare hurt her without having to worry about the consequences. That person happened to be Runa’s father.
“Uni?”
Jareth looked up to see a student – one of the many girls who clamored around him all the time – and smiled, just like he always did. “Yes, Miss Terrance?”
Her frown of worry melted into a smile easily. “For a minute, you seemed upset.”
Jareth was upset. He wanted the day to end already so he could go do some more research. There were some secrets that Runa was not entitled to keep anymore, and it was high time he learned what they were.
“I’m fine,” he told the student. “I was just-“ He stopped, his words dropping off mid-sentence when he saw Runa come walking in as if it was just another day. He supposed it was, in some way. He wondered how many times she had come in, dressed just like this in a long-sleeved shirt, baggy pants and a hat low over her eyes and sat in her seat, quiet as could be and acting as if there weren’t a multitude of bruises all over her body. He straightened, his expression turning grim. “Runa.”
He didn’t notice how Jesabelle Terrance’s smile faded, or how she continued to silently watch them with her brown eyes, her dull-brown hair falling over her shoulder. “Uni?”
He ignored her, going up and grabbing Runa’s forearm, trying not to touch any bruised part of her. “Runa, please.”
Runa raised tired, cautious eyes to him. “People are watching.”
Jareth tried not to frown, but his smile became stiff. “Let them. I just wanted to apologize for last night. I didn’t mean to invade your privacy.”
“Yes,” she said. “You did.” She tugged on her arm and sighed when he didn’t let go. “What do you want, Uniteare?”
“Stay after class,” he whispered. When she frowned, he leaned down and whispered. “I need to give you back your band. You don’t want to have to walk around with those bruises showing, do you?” And who better to find out answers from than Runa herself?
She glared at him. “Fine. After class. Excuse me, please.”
Jareth let her go, watching her walk back to her seat. God, he was falling hard. It wasn’t as if his moral compass pointed due North, but he felt rather bad for blackmailing her now that it seemed he was just adding another problem to her life. Not that that meant he was going to stop, but it tweaked his guilt strings. This jealousy towards Les and the possessive anger he felt towards her was enough to make him forget his guilt and say screw it all. He was nearly at his limit where she was concerned. He wanted to make progress, but his patience was wearing thin. Sure, seeing the bruises on her made him pull back a little, but he still wanted to jump her half the time and force her feelings. That way, maybe, he could establish some kind of permanent connection with her. Something that would make her stay, because half the time he thought she would disappear if he didn’t watch closely.
“Why does she get special treatment?” Jesabelle asked jealously.
Jareth blinked, turning to face Jesabelle with a smile. “What do you mean, Miss Terrance?”
“That,” she said, pouting in what she probably thought was a cute expression. “That’s what I mean. You call her by her first name, but the rest of us get called by our last names. Why does she get special treatment?”
Jareth amped up his smile. “Miss Terrance, I have no idea what you mean.” The bell rang and he gave an inward sigh of relief. “Please take your seat. Class is about to begin.” He patted her shoulder – a rare gesture since he tried his hardest not to touch his students unless absolutely necessary – and walked back to his desk. Unfortunately, he didn’t see the blush rise in the girl’s cheeks or how she touched her shoulder as if she could somehow touch him. He also didn’t see her turn back and glare daggers at Runa, who sat unawares, staring out the window from her seat in the back – just like she did every day.

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Runa wasn’t sure what she wanted more: for class to be over, or for class to never end. She wanted to go to Les, to nurse her wounds and cuddle, but she knew he wouldn’t be home today. No, on Tuesdays, he worked late. On the other hand, she didn’t want class to end because she didn’t want to have to talk to Uniteare. Couldn’t he have just passed her the bracelet secretly? But then, that wouldn’t be his style, would it? Of course not. He had something to say and, while she was curious, anything that came out of his mouth was something she didn’t want to hear.
Runa sighed. Today was warm. She wasn’t sweating because of the heat (she had found out young that the only time she sweated was when she was in pain), but it was uncomfortable to be in a long-sleeved shirt. Outside was easier than inside, though. Inside it was stuffy and she couldn’t move around or get away from people. Outside, she had the free space to breathe and move and not worry about running into someone who might potentially grab her. She definitely wasn’t going to a club tonight. Not with her body aching the way it was. It was hard acting normal, walking straight and keeping up the appearance that nothing was wrong and she was just the normal, average, gloomy teenager.
Her hips were the worst, she had to admit. But then, they always hurt the worst after nights like Sunday. She was bruised from head to toe – literally – and it wasn’t easy sitting up right or even crossing her legs and arms. During class, she’d entertained the idea of walking out a time or two or even just standing in the middle of a lesson. Anything to ease the uncomfortable sting that was spreading constantly throughout her body.
The bell rang and she stood abruptly, her chair scraping harshly against the tile. The class went silent and turned to look at her with surprise.
“Are you in a hurry, Runa?” Jareth asked her, smiling his usual teacher-smile.
Runa shook her head. “No. Just needed to stand.” She leaned forward on her desk, ignoring him. She didn’t care if he reprimanded her or what everyone else thought. It fucking hurt.
Surprisingly, Jareth just nodded and snapped his book shut, setting it down on his desk. “Right. Well, class is over anyway.” He smiled at the class. “That’s it for today, everyone. Please get home safely. Runa, please stay. We need to discuss something.”
The girls snickered at her. Well, all except one. This girl – whatever her name was – was staring at her with the intent to kill. Like Runa cared. She just wanted to go home. She didn’t give a hoot whether or not the brown-haired, freckled, big-eyed girl that was way too skinny to be healthy was glaring at her or smiling or eating a poop sandwich. Runa just wanted her to hurry up and leave so she could talk to Uniteare and get the hell away.
Finally, the room was empty. Runa hadn’t moved, though. She didn’t want to.
“Runa?” Jareth’s voice was concerned and soft, his business smile completely gone. “Are you okay?” He came towards her swiftly, reaching out then pulling back abruptly when she sucked in a breath of warning. He wrinkled his nose and reached into his jean pocket, pulling out her arm band. “Here.”
Surprised that he just gave it to her, Runa took the band and pushed up her sleeve, revealing the bruise that seemed to have just gotten worse overnight. She fiddled with the buckle, her hands shaking. Damn it, this was bad. She had known she had been beaten worse than usual, but she hadn’t thought it would be this bad. Damn, she should have eaten this morning.
“Runa,” Jareth said quietly, reaching out and grabbing her wrist gently. She was shaking like a leaf. “Breathe. It’s alright. Here, let me help.”
Runa glared at him at first from underneath her hat, but let him take the bracelet from her. He flipped her wrist over and he buckled the band in place, trying not to touch her to make sure she wasn’t uncomfortable, but his hand grazed hers when he pulled away. A graze was enough.
He snatched her hand and she hissed, but he only loosened his grip a little, refusing to let go. Worry crashed through him and he pulled her forward, his free hand reaching out quickly to connect with her forehead.
“Jesus, Runa,” he exclaimed in shock. “You’re burning up! You have a fever.”
Runa was breathing heavily, her face pale, her skin moist from the sweat that was pouring out of her. Her hat was soaked, but Jareth didn’t bother pulling it off. Instead, he did what any man would do when it was obvious his woman was going to collapse from sickness: He hauled her into his arms just as her knees gave out.
“Let me . . . go,” she said weakly, pushing against his chest before she fainted. It felt like a breeze was ruffling his shirt. Or it least it would have if her sweat hadn’t started soaking through to him, too.
Quickly, Jareth reached down, grabbed her bag, grabbed his keys from his desk and began running down the halls, not caring if anyone was watching. Who gave a fuck anyway? Runa needed to cool down and cool down fast. There was no way he was stopping for anything or anyone.
And he didn’t.
He threw her and her bag into his passenger seat and raced around the front of the car, slamming the door and ramming his keys so hard into the ignition that he worried for a moment that he’d broken them. When the car started, he revved the engine and pulled out, racing down the streets and towards his small house. He got there in record time, his car screeching to a halt in his driveway.
Jareth knew his house was small, and at any other time, he might have resented that, but right now he was just grateful. It took him little under five minutes to get into his house, go through the gray and blue living room and make it into his bathroom. He propped Runa up against the toilet and turned the cold taps on, keeping a hand on her so she didn’t fall over. While the tub filled up, he ran out to his garage and got the bag of ice he’d started keeping when his ice machine gave out in his fridge from his freezer and ran back to dump it into the water.
Thank God his mom had been a nurse. Runa was too hot to make it to the hospital in between the towns, but her fever needed to be cooled or she was going to be in serious danger. An ice bath was the quickest way to do that.
“Sorry about this, sweetheart,” he told the unconscious girl. He pulled off her hat and pulled his tie off, unbuttoning the first few holes of his shirt. He swallowed and grabbed the hem of her shirt, tugging it upwards. When it was obvious that he wasn’t going to be able to get it off without her help, Jareth cleared his throat, feeling like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar before dinner.
Frowning, he grabbed her wrists and unbuckled the bands there, trying to ignore the rush of anger that came when he saw her bruises. Without hesitation, Jareth grabbed the front of her shirt by her collar and jerked, ripping it right down the middle and exposing her torso. He gritted his teeth at the massive amount of bruising that covered her skin. He swore. Her skin was more black and blue than pink and rosy, as it should have been. It was enough to make him want to kill someone, but he knew he could do nothing other than take care of the problem at hand. When he pulled off her boots and pants, however, that task seemed to take second priority to the murderous rage filling him. Her thighs were mottled, the insides had rising welts in the shape of bite marks and fingers, angry black streaks outlined in red and scabbed punctures that were obviously made from teeth. More abrasions covered her legs and knees.
There was no doubt in Jareth’s mind now where the marks had come from, but the who was still in doubt. Who would do this to her? To a teen? To his Runa. He had to go to the sink, his stomach churning as he struggled to keep his lunch in his stomach. He didn’t know what was stronger, the sickening feeling of wanting to vomit from the thought that this had happened to her – and was obviously something she was used to – or the absolute rage he felt towards the person responsible.
Sucking in a deep breath, he turned back to Runa and kicked out of his shoes, and turned off the taps. He’d leave her with some dignity and let her keep her underwear on. Gently, Jareth picked up Runa and stepped into the tub, hissing and wincing as the freezing water soaked his pants and socks. Slowly, he lowered her into the water and she moaned uncomfortably, but didn’t wake, the heat from her body causing thin steam to rise in contrast to the cold. Good God, her fever was worse than he thought.
Holding her under the arms, Jareth kept a good eye on his watch. Her breathing was heavy and she was shivering, but that was only to be expected. After two minutes, Jareth heaved her out of the water, cold himself, and wrapped her in a towel, taking her to his bedroom and placing her in his rumpled bed. He quickly grabbed another towel from his closet and began to rub her down, using the friction to circulate her blood and warm her up again. It seemed like her fever had gone down, but there was no way it had broken. Not yet. He needed to keep her warm.
Jareth didn’t waste time; he covered her with the towel and reached under hesitantly, pulling off her underwear. Swallowing as he placed the black- and grey-striped bikini underwear on one of the chairs he kept to either side of his small bed, he lifted her front off of the bed and worked her bra off. He’d never felt so shy in his life.
Clearing his throat and trying to keep control of his flushing face, he fished through his closet and found an old flannel and a pair of new pajama pants with a drawstring. Returning, Jareth quickly clothed her and tried his best not to look. When he was finished, he tucked her into his bed and turned the heat up in the room. She was sleeping now it seemed, so he grabbed a t-shirt and another pair of pajama bottoms and took a quick shower. He could only have been in there for fifteen minutes, tops, but when he came out, rubbing a towel against his hair, he saw Runa struggling to sit up.
Rushing to her, he pushed her gently back down. “Don’t try to get up. You need to rest.”
“I just want some water,” Runa whispered. She looked around. “Where am I? How long have I been out?”
Jareth nearly ran through the house almost spilling the water, he rushed so fast to get it to her. He helped her sit up and drink before she flopped back down to the pillow. Afterwards, he checked her temp. It seemed to have gone down, but he couldn’t be too careful. “You should eat something. And I’m going to get a cool cloth for your head. Just stay here.”
“Where is ‘here’?” she asked.
Jareth turned to look back at her as he reached his door. “My room.” His soft expression turned serious. “And when I get back, I’m going to want some answers concerning those bruises you’ve been hiding.”

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Runa was tired and sweating, but her fever had eased. She was flipping between hot flashes and cold shivers and, between the two, she didn’t know which was worse. Somehow, she had ended up here, her hair wet, and her clothes not her own. She was still coming to her senses, though, and her head was seriously fuzzy. She could barely make out the room with the dimmed lamp on the bedside table, but she could see that the space was about the size of her dining room. It was small, but it was lived in. There were pictures on the walls and on the two nightstands. Clothes were on the floor here and there and his closet was open a little. His bed was small, too. Runa couldn’t remember the last time she slept in a bed. It was comfortable, nice. It helped that it smelled good, too.
She was just finishing the oatmeal that Jareth had made for her when he finally broke the silence.
“Tell me,” he ordered. He was sitting in a chair next to the bed, his head in his hand propped on his knee. His eyes were serious and the green shirt he wore only made them more intense. “Who gave you those bruises?”
Runa went to set the bowl aside, but her hand was shaking so much from the effort that Jareth took it from her and set it aside. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said finally.
“Bullshit,” Jareth countered angrily. “Runa, I undressed you. I’ve seen them. And the bite marks. What the hell is going on?”
Runa glared at him, affronted, her walls coming down tight. “I’m grateful that you took care of me, but the reason for my condition is none of your damn business.”
Jareth jerked as if he’d been slapped, anger boiling through him like lightning. “That’s no longer the case, Runa. I’m making it my business, so get your thoughts in order and tell me what in hell happened. You can’t leave in your condition and I don’t think you want your precious Les to know that someone forced themselves on you.” He leaned back and crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing. “Come on. Make my fucking day.”
Runa glared daggers at him. No doubt that Les had also seen the marks on her body when he’d put her to bed, but he never turned the lights on when he came in late so he didn’t disturb his family, so there was a good chance he hadn’t seen below her waist. She was hoping for her sake and his own safety that he hadn’t.
“I’m waiting, Runa,” Jareth pressed.
“No details,” she told him.
Reluctantly, he nodded. She probably wouldn’t want to recall something like that again. Not in detail. “No details,” he agreed.
Runa leaned back against the pillows and pressed her thumbs into her eyes. She had never told anyone before and still wasn’t keen on doing so, but if there was any chance that Les hadn’t seen the marks on her, she didn’t want to decrease those odds.
“You’ve probably guessed what’s happened already, so I’m not going to bother telling you,” she started. “The only thing you need to know is that my father was not too happy that his child was going to be a girl. He wanted someone to take over the business.” She frowned, thinking back. “I wasn’t always like this. I used to be a good girl who wore sun dresses and followed the rules. That changed when my father’s business started to go under.” She closed her eyes, blocking out the images that threatened to overwhelm her. The first time had been the worst and was still as fresh as the last time. “In order to keep his clients, he sold me. Over and over again. The first guy had been the son of a client and, to be honest, he was a lot nicer than anyone else has been, but I was just a child.”
“How old?” Jareth was talking through clenched teeth, his hands balled so tight he was sure his nails were cutting into his palms.
Runa didn’t open her eyes, her voice quiet and distant. “Twelve. I was twelve.”
“For fuck’s sake!” Jareth cursed. “This has been going on for five years?! How?”
Finally, Runa opened her eyes again, but it was only to shoot him a look that told him he was an idiot if he couldn’t come up the answer himself. “Because I never told anyone and no one outside my family and the men I’m offered to would dare speak of it either. Besides, even if I said anything, who would stand up against my father? I tried to tell a tutor once and you know what happened? She was run out of town and never heard of again.”
“Why didn’t you run away?”
Runa laughed. “You think I didn’t try? Running only got me locked in my room and worse things happened when I was trapped there. I got out as soon as I could. After the second time, I rebelled like hell and didn’t give a damn about anyone other than Les. It’s been me and him ever since. My mother didn’t want someone who was an embarrassment and I didn’t want a parent who refused to protect their child, so we found something we could agree on and I moved out. That was when I was fourteen. I’ve been on my own since then.”
Jareth ran a hand over his face. Jesus, her life was hell. Her parents were pure evil, absolutely horrible. Why no one had noticed was beyond him, but now that he knew, there was no way he wasn’t going to do something about it.
“Runa,” he said seriously, putting his hand over hers and surprising her. “I want you to listen to me. You’re not alone anymore. It’s not just you and Les. You have me, too. Don’t deal with this on your own. And stop going back there.”
She scoffed at him. “You’re funny. What do you suppose I do in the meantime? My parents won’t allow me to get a job and they pay for the apartment, my clothes, gas for my bike and everything else. In return, I go for the annual ‘visit’ every couple months or so and keep my grades up. They let me live in peace and I stay out of their hair. This arrangement works for all of us and if I try to change it, they’ll snatch what little freedom I have away.” She pushed his hand back. “I’m no angel, and I don’t pretend to be. I know my own limitations. So, no, Uniteare. There’s no helping me and there’s no escape."