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My little sunshine.
She's lying on the cold floor, motionless and injured. My heart stops at the sight. She's alive but unconscious, her breathing shallow and her usually tanned skin is pale. Her face is a canvas of bruises and I can see blood trickling and pooling around her limbs.
Beside her, lying lifeless with eyes staring up at the ceiling…is Rodrigo. He has a slash across his neck that tells me exactly how he met his end. But the part that has my skin crawling is the tearing of flesh in the side of his neck…from where someone ripped his fucking neck out. She took a piece of him out with her goddamn teeth.
Holy fucking shit.
Tearing my eyes away from Rodrigo’s body I stumble towards her and I lift her into my arms, her body a deadweight, as Seb hovers nearby. His face is ghostly white as he stares down at her. The fear that I might have been too late, that I could have lost her forever, is a sharp pain in my chest. But she's here, she's alive, and that's all that matters at this moment.
Seb and I don't bother with an ambulance. We pile back into the SUV with her tucked tightly against my chest. I spend the drive to the hospital focusing solely on her breathing…on the rise and fall of her chest against mine and the small breaths of air that she exhales against my neck.
???
The initial rush of people when we arrived at the hospital was overwhelming. Doctors and nurses flooded her, drawing blood and running tests. All while I stood beside her and felt like my life was hanging in thin air. Then came the police and the detectives, guys from HQ who had questions. It’s all a blur though. All just background noise that I could barely focus on.
I’m lucky that Maddox and Sebastian took charge because I’ve been stuck in a stupor. I can’t force myself to leave her side. Even during testing or exams. I need her within reach. Within fucking eye sight.
It’s not until much later that the doctor forces me to leave the room. Stating that she needs to have a rape kit done. My heart nearly explodes at the very idea but I don't argue. I step out of the room and lean back against the wall. With shaking hands I pull out my phone and dial the number that I have been avoiding recently. Something I never used to do.
“Damian? Baby?” Her voice comes through on the first ring and tears brim my eyes.
“Mom,” I mumble, my breathing beginning to come out in rapid pants. I slide my back down the wall until my ass hits the ground, “I found her….I found her mom.”
My sweet loving mom sucks in a harsh breath, “Is…is she okay?”
I don’t know what to say because…I don’t know. She’s here. She’s alive. But she’s in a room being checked over for sexual assault…for the second time in her short life. How can she possibly be okay? Instead of speaking I let out a tortured sob. I don’t know how to do this. How to function.
“Baby…where are you?” My mom asks, her voice calm despite the obvious nerves and sadness that are radiating off of her.
When I don’t answer I hear her moving, her voice coming out muffled as she talks to my dad. I don’t hear them or understandwhat’s happening. But I keep the phone tight to my ear. I don’t care what anyone says…sometimes I just need my mom.
“Damian..,” my mom whispers softly in her calming tone, “Dad called Maddie…we are on our way.”
I let out another sob and close my eyes. They’re coming. You see…my parents might have started to think the worst of Bre back when I was a kid. But I think that was all because they were worried about me…about my mental health. They wanted to blame someone and I get that. She was easy to blame.
But I think they still cared about her. Worried for her even. Because over the years that I fell in love with her, she grew close with them. She spent time on the phone with them and she planned her trip to visit with my mom. She mattered to them.
And right now…I just need my mom and dad to be here. I need their love and support because I feel like I’m falling apart.
When the doctor comes back out of the room, I hang up and rush inside. I don’t even bother speaking as I rush to her side. I sit in the seat and close my eyes, laying my head against the mattress beside her.
It feels like days but it’s probably only minutes…maybe an hour when she moves. The moment she stirs, her eyelids fluttering open, a wave of relief crashes over me, so potent it nearly buckles my knees. There she is….my little sunshine. In the sterile, antiseptic-scented air of the hospital room, amidst the beeps and soft whirls of machines…is my girl. I have never in my life loved looking into someone's eyes as much as I do in this instance.
I’m perched on the edge of the bed, my hand gripping hers like I never plan to let go. And the truth is I don’t. It’s the only way I could convince my body to keep breathing…to keep functioning. I needed to physically touch her and know she was alive. I was wound up in a ball of pure unrestrained fear.
"Hey," I whisper, my voice rough with emotion as tears spring to my eyes.
Her gaze locks onto mine, and in the depth of her eyes, I see it—the pain, the fear, but also the strength and the fierce will to survive that I've always admired. She tries to speak, a small frown marring her brow as she finds her voice stolen by weakness and the abuse she had to endure. Her throat is bruised even on the inside from how hard he must have gripped her.
"Don't," I say gently, pressing a finger to her lips before softly cupping her cheek. “You’re safe. Aiden is right over there. Spencer is alive, right in the next room. You’re all safe.”
I follow her gaze over to the corner of the room where Aiden is asleep, using Maddox’s thigh as a pillow. Maddox is passed out, his head lolling at an awkward ankle. Seb is on the ground right beside Aiden, his head resting on the couch and his hand firmly gripped in Aiden’s. They’ve been like this since we got here. All three of them taking comfort in each other beside Dakota.
The room is quiet, save for the soft, rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor, a reassuring sound. I can't tear my eyes away from her, this woman who's become my entire world. Who has been my entire world for as long as I can remember. The thought of losing her, of coming so close to that edge, sends a shiver down my spine. After finally having her back with me…I nearly lost her all over again.
After spending a fucking decade wishing I could find her…wishing I could go back in time and keep her. I finally have her here and the idea that I almost lost her is too much to bear. I'm still holding all the guilt that has settled in my chest - that I didn't know it was her, that I blamed her for disappearing, that I didn't save her when her demons came to haunt her.
But she's here now, alive and with me. The relief that fills me is overwhelming. It's a gift, a precious one, and I vow to cherish it, to cherish her, with everything I have.
