137:

She slammed the door to her apartment/ office, and then made a quick salute to her secretary. Without looking back she made it to the stairs leading down to the front of ABCSC, when she was immediately distracted by high- pitched screaming coming from the closed office doors.

She ran to the top of the stairs, saw the security guards running for the glass front doors. From her vantage point on the stairs, Tracy could see the young girl, obviously pregnant, slamming her fists ineffectually against the glass, and the car pulling up behind her, the three young men running toward her, and the anger on their faces.

The girl was screaming. "Sanctuary!" Her face wild with terror. Tracy raced down the stairs, using her automatic emergency remote to open the doors. "Let her in!" She yelled in her most commanding voice. "Help her!"

She made it to the foot of the stairs, when the guards ascertained that she wanted the doors opened for this young woman. The doors swung open and the girl stumbled in, rushing to slam the doors behind her, her face a searing mask of absolute fear, the men behind her yelling for her to stop, and then pounding on the locked doors when she was safely inside. She ran to the far wall, the guards holding their own stances—intimidating-- for the young men to clearly see. This was why this was a closed facility! This was why the doors were locked and appointments were needed. For this purpose Tracy had counseled with others in similar professions and realized the need for security.

Tracy ran to the young woman and grabbed her, running practiced hands over her expertly, searching for any immediate injuries or abuses. "It's okay." She said calmly, "Come with me."

The girl was young, brownish hair, lank and stringy, hanging down her back, her face pale, with large brown circles around eyes and nose. "I need help, those guys, they're my.... Cousins.... They.... I need help!"

Tracy half dragged half pulled the girl down the hall away from the guarded doors, where thrashing pounding and yelling could still be heard. She had to get her away and out of view, while the police came and took care of the outer situation. They had wondered if this sort of thing might happen, and it had. "My name is Tracy, what's yours?"

"Kylie Adamson. I'm sixteen, and I—I was raped." She said quickly, out of breath, anger and fear in her voice.

Tracy pulled her into another hallway that led to one of the guest lobbies outside a group of offices meant for women who were to be admitted, examined or meet with their therapists, or doctors. Actually the gynecologist area, and obstetrician area was on another floor, but this would have been the admitting area during business hours. This part of the facility was only open during the day. There was a smaller waiting area, warmer, friendly, intimate just down the hall, it even had a small fake fireplace. Tracy quickly led Kylie here and sat her on one of the couches. Nervous, afraid, staring around wildly, Kylie sensed she was in a safe haven.

"You were raped? Just now?" Tracy asked.

Kylie shook her head. "No, not right--- not recently, I mean, it happened about two months ago... the first time that is. My brother just got accepted into a local group."

"A gang?"

Kylie nodded, her eyes wide as she stared at Tracy. "I have to trust you. I know you know what to do. My Aunt said to come here. She said you could help me."

"Who is your Aunt?"

"Alicia Mendez." A Hispanic name, but this girl didn't look particularly Hispanic, although a lot of people of Hispanic origin did live close to the beach and the surrounding areas. Tracy wracked her brain, but she wasn't coming to any conclusions, the name didn't ring any bells.

Tracy shrugged gently, "I don't know her name right off the bat, but that's okay." She started to say something else when Kylie interrupted her.

"She works here. She cleans and cooks or something."

Tracy nodded. "Wonderful, it's good that she could refer you then." She said with as much acceptance as possible. It didn't matter how a girl in need found this place, only that they did, and they chose to stay if it met with their needs.

Kylie's brown eyes were imploring. "I knew I had to get away. I am so tired of--- of being used. I need to get help. Will the police come and get Philippe and...." Her voice trailed off.

Tracy was nodding, she'd obtained a clipboard and a pen and was preparing to write some notes.

"What's that?" Kylie asked, leaning forward, still trembling on the edge of her seat.

Tracy shrugged again. "It's just a few little papers we like to fill out before we admit you to the program, to make sure this is what you want."

Kylie sat back agitatedly and then immediately sat up straight again. "Yeah, it's what I want, my Aunt already explained about what you do here. I don't want to keep the baby. I mean, really, it's not the babies fault, at all, poor little thing, but I can't keep it, I already know that. I just can't...." And now her eyes filled with tears and they erratically spilled down her cheeks. Tracy rested the notepad on her lap and waited to see how deep this outburst was.

She watched Kylie superficially, and also with the keen eye of one who had felt a lot of distress and pain. Kylie alternated between fear, and doubt, but her face mirrored only the fact that she'd made a decision and was going with it. It looked as if she'd been wrestling with her problem for quite a while.

"Is the baby a product of rape?" Tracy asked calmly, her heart beating a really frantic tattoo under her collarbone.

Kylie studied her face now. She was nodding, her pale features infused with relief as it settled into her that she had made it, and she was safe. Her breathing had returned to a less panicked and deeper exhale. "Yes. Yes, I was raped. I am prepared to make a statement, or whatever you need. I can talk to the police now."

"How long has it been since...." Tracy wasn't sure, but if it had been two months, evidence may not be as easily obtainable.

Kylie looked away briefly, not as if she were about to be evasive really, Tracy thought, but just as if the memories were painful. She waited. "This morning." Came the electrifying answer.

Tracy pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed the switchboard, quietly asked a full medical staff to meet her in the medical wing in a half an hour and then smiled encouragingly at Kylie who looked alarmed. Tracy infused her smile with as much reassurance as possible. "You need medical attention." She said softly. "Will you submit to an examination?"

Kylie pursed her lips, but nodded swift minute jerks of her exquisite porcelain face. Tracy suddenly noticed how beautiful Kylie was. Her brown hair was a mess, but it was full and lovely in color, her figure was sweet and could have been curvy, except she looked half starved right now which made her think about food and her own stomach rumbled.

"Are you hungry? I'm hungry. There's a cafeteria here, do you want to get a bite? It's free." She waited patiently and Kylie nodded. Tracy stood and tucked the notepad beneath her arm, "We can finish filling this out as we eat." She encouraged, taking Kylie's hand gently and leading her out of the room.

"So, after the examination, what happens? I mean, can I stay here tonight?"

Tracy nodded. "Yes. I'll have a room made up for you. It'll be private, under the circumstances, you will probably want your privacy. But there are a couple of other girls currently in the wing you'll be staying in. This isn't a hospital, so there's no visiting from outside people, but it's not a prison either."

"Well, I don't care if it is. I want to be inside, and away from.... Them." Kylie followed Tracy back the way they had come and then stopped in front of the elevator. They both glanced out the front to where they could clearly see the police hand-cuffing the four boys who had pursued Kylie to the front of the Alternate Birthing Center. There was struggling and yelling still going on, and still clearly audible. Kylie stared in panic, her hand clutching her abdomen.

"Are they the ones who raped you?" Tracy whispered, staring at the scene outside as if it were a scene right out of a crime movie.

Kylie nodded. "Three of them. The one in the blue shirt, over by the car, that's my cousin Manuel. He's 21. The one..." she jerked her head toward where the officer was shoving another boy against the brick wall next to the glass doors, his face smashed against the glass, one arm pinned behind his back as he yelled crazed imprecations at the cop. "That one is my--- my step brother, Deano." Her lips twisted into a ferocious scowl. "Asshole." She breathed in toxic shame. "I hate him." Tracy realized that she was right in her assumption that more than one of the gang members had raped Kylie, and it was likely that she'd been held by them in some way and used at their leisure. Still, her eyes refused to stare away until they were all named her assailants, so Tracy waited, even though the elevator door had opened. "Over on the ground, the one that cop is stepping on." She spat the words now in anger and loathing. "That is my brother Philippe." And she said it with a Mexican accent. Tracy realized that even though Kylie didn't look Hispanic, she could speak Spanish fluently. She looked to where another young man was bent over a large brick planter, his face obscured by overhanging leaves. "That's Juan." She said simply, and the venom in her tone was enough.

Tracy waited until Kylie finally looked away and then indicated the elevator. "Juan?" she repeated, as she pushed the button that closed the doors on the scene of crime and violence.

Kylie sighed as the doors closed, leaned against the back of the elevator hugging her stomach in pain. "That's it." She breathed. "It's done. I'm safe."

Tracy shook her head. "Oh, honey." She whispered and tears slipped out the corners of Kylie's eyes as they slipped out of Tracy's. Tracy took the girl in her arms and rocked her as she cried, her paper-thin hands coming up between them to huddle within the security of her unknown protectress. Sobbing, incoherent, stress relieving words spilled out of Kylie, of which Tracy understood very little, except the vile nature of what had been done to her.

The elevator came to a stop and the door opened, voices were immediately heard, and Kylie straightened. She glanced around hesitantly, but Tracy hit the door closed button to allow time to regain their composure. "We don't have to eat in the cafeteria."

"No, it's okay." Kylie gulped unsteadily.

"Actually I can have it sent to the medical wing." Tracy reached for her phone, but Kylie stopped her.

She sniffed. "No. Really. I can eat in the cafeteria. Let's go."

*****