Many hours passed before Rose came to. So many, in fact, that the fire in the fireplace had long ago died out, and the sky was beginning to lighten.
She groaned weakly as she attempted to sit up. Every inch of her body hurt. Rose felt like she had not only been hit by a train, but that the train had dragged her along for a few miles as well. Though the pain in her head was unbearable, Rose still refused to cry. It wouldn't help repair the damage Cal had done. And Rose feared that if she started, she'd never stop.
Finally, Rose managed to stand. She held onto the couch for support, bending her head forward to help ease the spinning in the room. Taking a few deep breaths, her nausea eased.
Her head buzzed from all the thoughts speeding through her brain. Cal had beaten and raped her. Jack was at war. Her entire body ached, yet she felt numb. She was weak and dizzy. Though only a few feet away, her bedroom was too far to go. With a determined effort, Rose managed to walk around the couch and lay down on it.
Shivering, Rose pulled the quilt on the back of the couch halfway over her. Cal had threatened to kill her, and she didn't doubt him. But she refused to give him the diamond. Jack would rather lose the diamond than you.
Jack. His name echoed in her head over and over. Rose didn't want to believe that Jack would go AWOL, but she simply couldn't. Jack had almost died saving her while the Titanic sank beneath them. If he was willing to die for her, he was willing to break some laws for her. But Rose didn't want that to happen.
Rose also didn't want to tell him in a letter. She couldn't tell him in a letter. The mental image of Jack cowering in a cold, wet trench reading her letter over and over and blaming himself was too heartbreaking. Rose knew he wouldn't be mad at her for waiting to tell him. Jack would understand, and keep on loving her.
Groaning, Rose attempted to make herself more comfortable on the couch. It didn't work, which failed to surprise her. She sat up slowly, so as not to get dizzy again, and dropped the quilt off of her. For a few minutes, Rose just sat with her head in her hands. She let out a few ragged breaths before feeling that she could stand.
Somehow, she managed to not only stand, but walk into her bedroom. The reflection in the mirror would have scared Rose. But the entire time she had been moving towards the room, she was mentally preparing herself for the sight.
Her right eye was swollen, but fortunately still open. The bruising around her swollen eye was dark, a mixture of blue and purple. There was a gash below her other eye; Rose remembered feeling Cal's expensive pinky ring cutting her flesh. The gash hadn't bled much, but it had oozed and crusted over. Rose's clothes were ripped and bloodied.
The sight of what Cal had done to her angered Rose. It actually just downright pissed her off. Cal had upset, even angered her before. Up until now, nothing had matched it. Having Jack handcuffed to a steam pipe of a sinking ship and chasing them into the bowels of the same sinking ship while shooting at them had been nothing compared to this. Close, but not the same.
Cal will never get the diamond, Rose resolved. And he won't kill me, either.
*****
Cal smirked to himself as he let a shot of whiskey fall into his morning coffee. He kept reliving the previous night in his head over and over. Rose's screams of pain and fear, her pitiful attempt to fight him off, the way her body felt beneath his all danced around in his head. Cal felt himself growing hard at the recollections, but ignored the urge to give into it.
He had more important things to take care of this morning than self-pleasure. Things like getting Jack Dawson to come save his precious little wife.
A knock on the door of his hotel suite in Madison, Wisconsin caught his attention. He stood and answered the door.
"Good morning, sir," began the man on the other side of the door. "I'm Jacob Meyer." He held out his hand and Cal took it, shaking it politely.
"I'm Henry Dinere," Cal responded, pulling a random name from his brain. He wasn't an idiot. He couldn't use his real name now. "Please, come in."
Jacob walked in and Cal, still smirking to himself, closed the door behind him. "I need something forged," Cal said, not taking the time to make small talk. He reached into his pocket and retrieved a wad of cash. "I've been told by some connections that you are the best for the job."
Eyeballing the cash like a starved puppy seeing a bone, Jacob nodded. "It's true, Mr. Dinere. I can forge signatures, documents—"
"Letters?"
Jacob nodded. "Letters, as well—if you have a decent sample of the handwriting, that is." Cal handed him the notebook that he had taken from Rose. Jacob flipped through it and nodded. "This will do."
"Brilliant." Cal handed him the cash. "This is half. You'll get the other half when I like what I see. And a bonus for no questions asked." The last statement was laced with toxin, prompting Jacob to again nod in agreement.
"I understand completely, Mr. Dinere. Shall we get started?" Jacob Meyer sat at the desk in the suite with the notebook in front of him. "Now, tell me what you would like it to say."
Cal reached into a drawer of the desk and pulled out a piece of paper. He handed it to Jacob. "Copy that. Word for word." Jacob took the paper obligingly and began writing. Despite the horror that filled the paper in front of him, Jacob kept his mouth shut. Cal returned to stare out the window in silence, the only sound being Jacob's pen against the paper.
It was only a mere twenty minutes later when Jacob announced that he was finished. "I believe you'll find this satisfactory." Cal snatched the paper from his hand and read the words, scrutinizing the handwriting.
"I can see that you are indeed one of the best," Cal said with a grin. "One more thing. Address one of those envelopes on the desk," he ordered, pointing them out. He handed Jacob another paper. "Mailing address and return address," he added, indicating which was which.
When all was said and done, and Jacob had been paid as promised, Cal was once again alone in the hotel. The train home to Philadelphia wasn't due to leave for another two hours. Cal had enough time for another drink and a quick shower before leaving. He tucked the addressed envelope in his coat pocket. He'd drop it off at the post office before heading out of town.