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That’s what happened and what I had to deal with, shield my child from, and pray to find a way out.
It went on all day and right into the night. By the time Christian got here I was a nervous wreck.
I couldn’t believe it was him. when I first heard his voice I thought I’d gone crazy and was imagining things. Then he said his name and when realization hit that it really was him my heart soared into the heavens.
The shuffle of cutlery makes me jump. It’s not loud but I’m just jumpy. He’s here. He’s still here.
I slip off the bed and make my way out to see him.
He’s made coffee and toast. I have bread in the house and some other sundries. I was waiting for payday to buy decent food. I needed to save what little money I had for gas to get to work. Rosie likes toast and spaghetti-o’s, which comes in handy for months like these.
He’s rolled the sleeve of his t-shirt up his thick forearms and the trace of one of his tattoos is peaking out. Christian walks over to me and cups my face, careful to avoid anywhere that hurt.
“Angel, how are you feeling?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Awful.” I think that’s the only way to describe how I feel. Awful. My voice sounds hoarse from the crying but at least I can talk. we didn’t talk last night.
“Tell me where hurts?”
“My face. My head.” I blow out a ragged breath. “My hip is bruised too.” from where Brent was kneeling.
He looks down at me, at the ratty t-shirt I’m wearing and the pajama bottoms. I just put on what I could yesterday.
“Does anything feel broken?” he asks and I shake my head.
The concern in his eyes grips me and I relies how much I appreciate just that.
I’m twenty six. I’m a long way from being a child, but no matter how old you get it’s nice to have someone to take care of you. Or at the very least, someone who cares.
“Nothing feels broken.” It’s just my heart.
“Okay, tell me who did this to you.” he says and I know the minute I tell him what happened it won’t be the same thing as calling the police.
Calling the police would land Brent in questioning, maybe jail. If I’m lucky I could get him for assault and battery. I say nothing feels broken, but as I stand here I’m shaking. I’m broken and in pain. The only thing stopping me from withering away is Christian’s hands on my skin.
The hardened look on his face and in his eyes is death. I know the look, and I have no sympathy for Brent or any of the guys who were with him.
“His name is Brent. He tried to rape me, his friends held me down. One of them took Rosie from me. She was watching, I …” I’m too choked up to finish.
Fury fills his features and he clenches his jaw. The flush of red that washes over his face is anger. I’ve never seen him angry.
“I’m sorry that happened to you Lilly,” he says. “I’m going to take care of it.”
My lips part. I know what taking care of something means.
“I want you to eat something. After breakfast we can start packing.”
“Packing?” I narrow my eyes.
“You’re coming home, with me.”
“What?” He can’t be serious. “You can’t do that.” God, no one would ever know how much that would mean to me to leave this place.
He raises his brows and cocks his head to the side giving me a questioning glare. “Watch me. You can’t stay here. I’m already mad as fuck that you’re here in a place like this. It’s not safe. I’m not leaving you here, and this is no place for Rosie to live. You’re both coming to stay with me whether you like it or not.”
“But we can’t impose on you like that.”
“Lilly, you heard me. Now do what I’ve asked.” He releases his grip on me and nods. “You hear me?”
