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If I were any other, less broken woman and he wasn’t a man who just pulled me from a shipping container, I would laugh at the ridiculousness of the entire situation. Watching him putter around the room and pull out pristine fluffy white towels in his apparent nervousness brought a sweet edge to his humanity.
“Um…” He rubs a hand down his face. “I’m sure you want to be alone but I’m worried you’ll fall and hurt yourself.”
I don’t say a word.
“It’s not like I want to take advantage and see you naked or anything,” he rambles, looking at his feet. “Although I already have. Obviously.”
I remain silent. Jesus. Who is this man?
Slipping from the counter, I make sure my legs are steady enough to hold me before releasing the cold stone slab. Tilting my chin in defiance I step around him and make my way to the bathtub. Stepping in, I take a moment to brace myself before lowering my body beneath the bubbles.
Motherfucker! That stings. I can feel where every scrape on my body is. It might not have been the best idea to let him pour all this crap in the water.
“I’ll get you some clothes,” he says before stomping out of the bathroom, his shoulders tight.
I don’t move a single muscle. Sitting in the middle of the tub with my knees pulled against my chest, I wait. Surely, someone will come for me. They always do. It won’t be long before a man enters and uses me for his own pleasure. I see no reason to clean myself up if they will only dirty me again.
I don’t know how long I sit there but when the door opens, the water has cooled a bit. I wait for the inevitable but when nothing happens, I turn to see what’s going on.
“There’s a doctor here to see if you need medical attention,” he says. Anger blazes in the depths of his entrancing gaze. “She’ll wait until you’re done so you don’t need to rush.”
With a stiff nod, he leaves me alone once more.
What the fuck?
Is this real right now? Have I actually been rescued from the men that constantly hurt me? Is this man really my salvation? Do I dare give myself that kind of hope when I know how despair can easily crush me once I find out it isn’t true?
Fuck.
Releasing my knees, I lower my body into the water until my entire head is submerged. I hold my breath as long as I can before coming up for air. I take my time washing my hair and my body, wanting to be truly clean for the first time in years.
Stepping out of the water, I wrap myself in a massive, fluffy white towel before wrapping my hair as well. On the counter sits one of those old-timey shaving blades and I grab it.
If this is a lie, if these people intend to hurt me, I will go out with a fight. It’s the first time I’ve ever had a weapon to defend myself with and I fully intend to use that to my advantage. I slip the blade between my skin and the towel wrapped around my chest before exiting the bathroom.
Sitting in the corner on a black sofa is the man who brought me here and a woman I would assume is in her sixties. She smiles softly but I can see the fear and stress written across her features.
“Thalia,” the man says. “This is Doctor White. She needs to check you and make sure you don’t need anything more than food and rest.”
“Hello, Thalia,” the woman says, rising from her spot. “If you don’t want to do this, all you need to say is no.”
I say nothing. I only lift my chin and walk over to the bed before lying flat on my back.
“Jesus Christ,” the man mutters.
“Dominic, I need you to leave,” the woman says and her words have me shooting upright.
“Do you want me to stay?” he asks softly.
Do I? Is he the good guy in this part of my story? I don’t fucking know. But my head bobs up and down and he nods in reply.
The doctor approaches me slowly. Taking my arm she talks, explaining everything she is going to do, but I don’t hear a damn word. All I do is stare at the ceiling. Silence envelops the room as she touches me, first drawing blood and then removing the towel. I feel her slip the blade from its hiding spot only to slide it beneath my back. She doesn’t tell the man she called Dominic and she doesn’t try to take it away from me.
She checks all my cuts and bruises, touching my stomach and putting a little pressure on my pelvis.
Her face comes into view as she whispers. “I am going to do an internal exam now. You need to stop me if anything hurts.”
I want to laugh at the ludicrous idea that anything can hurt me anymore. I am numb from my soul to my skin. I haven’t felt anything in over a year.
