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I exhale the breath I’ve been holding and then inhale deeply. The realization that Icanrelax, that I can take as long as I want, sit here until the water cools if I choose to, hits me harder than it should.
I’m free now.
Free.
Once, this house felt like my prison. Now it’s my sanctuary. Nobody is on the other side of that door, timing me and waiting to walk me back to that windowless little hell hole of a room Austin was keeping me in. I don’t have to answer to anyone here, or worry about what kind of whim that sadistic fucker will want to exercise on me next. Taking a long, proper bath was the last thing on my mind while I was West Point’s prisoner, but now I’m wondering how I survived without this.
I scoot down even further and lay my head back, letting the water come right up to the edge of my face before closing my eyes again and slipping completely under the water.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three.
Bringing my head back up out of the water, I open my eyes and take another deep breath. I’m not just washing away layers of dirt right now. I’m getting the stink of captivity off me. I’m letting go of piece after piece of mental armor, and brick after brick of the walls I built to keep myself sane.
And not just during my time of captivity with West Point.
Yes, I built those walls and put on that armor to keep myself alive until Maddoc and his Reapers could find me, or I could figure out a way to escape on my own. But I’ve been protecting myself my whole damn life, I’ve been the only one protecting myself, and now I’m not alone anymore.
Three men who used to be my enemies put their lives on the line to get me back today.
They weren’t sure their plan could work.
They didn’t know how many men Austin was bringing.
If anything—anything—had gone wrong, Maddoc would have been taken in exchange for my freedom.
And then he would have been killed.
I’m still shuddering from that thought when the door swings open on silent hinges. Maddoc. He stands in the doorway with his arms folded across his broad chest, his eyes locked onto mine, and a wave of such strong emotion goes through me that I’m not sure what to do with it.
He didn’t knock, but I don’t ask him to leave.
He takes a step toward me, then another. Finally, his eyes break away from mine and quickly roam up and down my body.
“Those cuts and bruises,” he starts, frowning as his voice rumbles up from somewhere deep in his chest. “Did you get them looked at?”
I nod, my thighs squeezing together of their own volition. The inspection was deliciously painful, but what it led to has me feeling closer to Logan than I once would have thought possible.
Maddoc is still frowning, though.
“It looks worse than it actually is.” I glance down at my own naked body and swallow hard. “Mostly.”
It comes out as a broken whisper, the memory of being at Austin’s mercy overtaking me for a moment.
Maddoc sits down on the side of the tub and traces a finger along a deep scratch on my shoulder, one left by Austin’s ring.
I lean into his touch. Logan treated each mark. Cared for me and cleansed me. But I need this too. I need Maddoc’s hands on me, staking a claim and erasing Austin’s.
His eyes snap up to meet mine, almost as if he can sense it, and I bite back a needy moan, my pulse thrumming.
Without saying another word, Maddoc reaches for the shampoo bottle and squeezes some out into his palm, then rubs his hands together, lathering it up.
“I’m glad Logan took care of you,” he says, his movements slow and methodical and his meaning clear.
Heisglad… but it’s not enough. He wants to take care of me too.
