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Now that she has, I’ll have to beat his ass later.
I walk over to her and sit on the edge of the bed next to her. I take the bandage in my hand and change the one on her forehead, checking the wound that is the worst.
The stitches are healing nicely. I check the others on her stomach and arm, along with all the bruises covering her body. Everything is slowly healing, but there is no way to know how bad the damage is inside her body.
I tuck her hair behind her ear and stroke her cheek. I can’t stand not to touch her. Even in her bruised and beaten state, she’s still as gorgeous as she was the first time I saw her.
She opens her eyes and smiles up at me like I’m her favorite person in the whole world.
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
“You saved me.”
“That doesn’t matter right now. How do you feel? Do you need more pain medicine? You must be starving. Can I get you something to eat or drink?”
“You saved me. Why?” she asks, trying to sit up in bed before she realizes how much of a mistake that is. Her arms aren’t strong enough to push herself up, and just the movement of her head makes her sick and dizzy.
“Whoa. Just lie down, beautiful. You’ve been through a heck of a lot these past few days. You need to relax.”
She doesn’t argue with me, so I take that as a sign that she agrees with me. When she lies back down, I stroke her cheek again.
“Now, answer my questions first, and then I’ll answer whatever questions you want me to. How do you feel?”
“Like I’ve just been hit by a train,” she says, closing her eyes, hating to show any weakness.
I feel the anger rising in my chest at the thought of her feeling weak after surviving this. She is anything but weak.
I get up and walk over to the medicine cabinet and pull out a bottle of pills. I walk back and take her hand where I pour four pills.
“Take these, it will help with the pain.”
She looks at the pills and then at me before she pops them all into her mouth at once. I hand her a glass of water from my nightstand, and she washes the pills down, not at all hesitating to take them. She didn’t question the amount or if I was drugging her. She just took the pills.
“Good girl. Now, are you hungry, or do you need anything else right now?”
She slowly shakes her head.
I nod. “Now, I need you to tell me what happened.”
I don’t really. I already know what happened, but I need to know what she remembers. The pain might have completely wiped away her memory.
She looks away for a second, and when she turns her gaze back, I know that she remembers everything. Every. Fucking. Thing.
The horror.
The pain.
The fight for her life.
All of it.
“Your father raped me. He beat me. He had his men tie me up because he was too chickenshit to do it himself. And then he raped me over and over. Trying to break me.” She looks down at her beaten body. “Seems like he won.”
I place a finger under her chin so that I can see her endearing dark eyes that are full of fight despite everything she has already been through. “He didn’t win. You have plenty of fight left in you. You aren’t broken yet.”
I cock my head to the side and grin because I know she will smile, too. She does. She can’t help herself; my grin is infectious even in her broken state.
“He might have broken your body but not your spirit. I have no doubt that, if you had a gun or a knife tucked in your pajamas, you would still try to kill me right now to get your freedom. Even in your weakened state.”
