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A lone tear slides down my temple and I think my lips tremble when eyes the shade of my darkened, crushed soul find mine. They’re filled with concern, revulsion… horror. They’re beautiful and I’m not sure if I’ve dreamt of them or if they might be real. But I know they want to help me.
They’re all I can see to know who is here to help me. I have no recollection of them.
I could use some help right now. But I whimper and muster all the strength I can to lift my arm to my bed to pull the blanket to cover me. My helpless hand searches frantically, or what I hope is frantically, but pulls back nothing. Because they’ve taken everything from me.
I wrap my arm around myself, recoiling, wishing I could just disappear. What this beautiful man must see when he looks at me, what he must think.
“Lennox?” he asks, the word gentle despite the ruckus he caused when he entered the room, taking out the guards who normally reside outside of my door. Did he get Leon when he was out there? Not likely. Leon is slippery.
Who is Lennox? I don’t even remember that girl anymore. She stopped existing months ago. “Are you Lennox Ford?”
I stare at him, emotion dumping into me, choking me, clawing its way up from my chest after having heard that name. Angel…That’s what he’s called me, having told me that Lennox no longer exists, that the world has forgotten about her, that her family has given up.
My savior reaches out to press his gloved palms against my cheek. Fear and adrenaline pour into my system, but they solve nothing. I’m too far gone to be helped at this point. Still, I must flinch because he shushes softly.
“I need you to nod, do something. Let me know that you’re the one I’m here to save.” Are there others? Please don’t let there be others. Would he not save them if there were? Would he not save me if I wasn’t? Should I say no so he could save the others? “Fuck it,” he mutters, looking impatiently at something silver on his wrist.
“I’m going to lift you. I’m going to be as gentle as I can…” His eyes stray down my body and I whimper, a pleading sound, asking him to not look in the only way I know how. He swallows thickly, but his eyes find mine in an instant, remorse pouring from them. “You’re going to be okay. I’m going to get you out of here. Get you some food and…” His words trail off, and I’m thankful for that. Somehow, I manage a nod and muster up enough of a breath to keep myself calm when he tugs the hem of my silk nightie down to cover my bottom. A mixture of shame and gratefulness for the show of respect washes over me. What an odd mixture.
Using his forearm to keep the nightie in place, he loops his other hand behind my shoulders.
When he lifts me, a blood-curdling scream steals from my lungs and rings out into the air, completely out of my control. I flinch because I’m not prepared for the piercing sound.
“I’m sorry,” he mutters, a gravely whisper. “But if we are going to get out of here, I need you to remain quiet. Can you do that for me?” I use my eyes to convey that I’ve heard him because I’m terrified of moving and ruining this. Or to wake up and realize this is just a dream. My breaths come a little harsher and a dizzying rush causes my vision of him to sway a little.
“You’re going to be fine. Remember that. Out of all this chaos, you will thrive. I will fix you.”
The giant man takes his first step with me in his arms and someone grants me sweet mercy because the edges of my vision fray when pain explodes my nerves and the lights go out.
