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“I came for you,” he says again, and this time his voice is hoarse, filled with an emotion I can’t place.
Damian's arms wrap around me and lock me to his chest. I breathe in his cologne mixed with his sweat, and it somehow has a calming effect on me.
He doesn’t hold me for long, but it’s still comforting. Then he gently pushes me back until his eyes can lock on mine. “Better?”
I nod as I slump down on my knees, my hands falling numbly in my lap.
He came for me.
I needed the reminder, and unable to tear my eyes away from Damian, I watch as he starts to clean the room and bathroom.
Once we’re in the car, Damian stares at me. At first, I used to look away, but now the intensity in his eyes eases the turbulent storm always threatening to overwhelm me.
“Bruises are almost gone,” he whispers.
“Yeah.”
His eyes drift over my face again, and then he starts the engine. This time when he lifts his hand to my headrest, I don’t cringe away.
During the ride home, I try to make sense of what happened. Why it even matters. Why everything in me calmed the moment, Damian hugged me.
I don’t find any answers, though.
When we get home, Damian goes straight for the shower. I hang the clothes I got the day before. I should wash them, but I couldn’t care less at the moment.
I go stand in front of the window and stare outside, trying to figure out why it feels like I lost something back at the motel.
Was it hope?
My eyes drift shut as I realize I lost hope that I’d belong to someone again. I lost hope that I’d see my parents again.
I know they’re dead, but for some reason, I always had hope until the stark reality was staring me right in the face.
No one came for me back in that hospital. Sure, Uncle Tom stopped by, but then he left me all alone in a world I didn’t understand.
No one is coming for me, and it’s the saddest realization.
I know Damian said he came for me, but that’s not the same thing. Damian’s just another person passing through my life, here one day and gone the next. I am a mess Uncle Tom is paying him to fix.
I have no friends, no family, and the thought leaves a wasteland where my heart should be.
I’m alone.
DAMIAN
Stepping into my office, I take a seat, and then I stare at the laptop.
I hugged Cara.
There’s nothing I could do to stop myself, and I’m fucking lucky she didn’t freak out.
The moment my arms locked her to my body, it felt like my heart was flayed wide open, and she crawled right inside.
It felt right.
Christ, it felt more right than anything’s ever felt in my life.
The past two months, I’ve watched Cara grow stronger with every passing day. I’ve also heard her screams in the dead of night.
It’s as if my life was on autopilot until Cara. Since I found her, there’s been unbearable pain, compassion, affection, and bursts of light with every step she takes forward.
Affection.
There’s no use in trying to deny it. Physically I’m attracted to Cara, and emotionally – it feels like I already care too much.
Not that any of it matters because Cara’s still healing and far from ready for any kind of relationship.
To get my mind back on the job, I decide to watch the fourth and final memory card.
I could only stomach watching one every couple of weeks and seeing Cara being beaten like that, I have no words for the rage I feel.
One thing I did pick up on is that she put up one hell of a fight every single time they beat her. But with each beating, she got weaker, and that was hard to watch.
I’m relieved it’s the last memory card as I press play. I lean back in the chair and take my phone from my pocket to check my messages and emails. There’s one from Jeff saying Mr. Graham paid the rest of the fee for us retrieving his daughter.
I killed the two fuckers who tried to get a five million dollar ransom from him.
Listening to the footage, I hear the familiar sound as they set up the camera. There’s another message from Jeff saying there’s no movement from Tom Smith. We found out he practically lives at his club in South Africa and is always surrounded by two guards. He’s made no effort to try to find Cara, and it makes me wonder what kind of uncle would leave his niece to suffer the way Cara has.
A fucked up one.
‘So now you’re going to beat me? You finally grew a pair of balls, Steven?’ I hear Cara’s voice echo through the speakers. The anger in her voice makes me look up from my phone. As always, the light’s on her.
