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I just shook my head and slowly made my way inside, heading to the kitchen.
“Drink,” Colt’s careful command rang out. “You’re dehydrated.”
I stepped inside and rounded the counter. “Sweetheart, my name is Vivienne. This is Colt. We’re going to take care of you, okay?”
She was so small, naked, filthy. Her hair was matted and oily. God only knew what kind of injuries she had. We’d found one more like her. A Daughter from The Order sold to a cruel sonofabitch that was killed in the attack at the warehouse. But there was no doubt we’d find more of them.
I gently brushed her hair from her face, but stopped when she flinched. My heart hurt as I watched her take the opened bottle of water from Colt and sip it, licking her cracked lips.
“We’ll get you looked after, okay?” I lowered my hand. “I promise.”
Fear shimmered in her big eyes. She drank, consuming the entire bottle.
“Do you need a doctor?” I asked carefully.
DeLuca was fast becoming someone we could trust entirely, responding to our calls no matter the time. Most of the time now, he came with his stepsister, leaving her to help out at the monstrous mansion located on the outskirts of the city we’d somehow acquired from one of London’s friends.
It was a temporary fix to a growing issue. Where the hell do we put them and what do we do with them?
She shook her head. “No, no doctor.”
“What’s your name, honey?”
“Elena.” She swiped the back of her hand across her mouth as the familiar thud of London’s boots came from deeper in the house.
“Okay, Elena. I’m going to take you to a bathroom and get you some clean clothes while Colt here whips you up some eggs. Does that sound good?”
She nodded hard as her belly gave a howl. Jesus, she must be starving.
“Then we’ll take you to a place where you can rest and recover.”
She stiffened. “You’re selling me.”
“No.” I moved closer, cupping her cheek and lifted her gaze to mine. “I want you to hear me. You’ll never be sold again. Do you understand? Never again. That part of your life is over. There are others like you. Daughters like me and my sisters. Ones we rescued, just like you. When you’ve showered and had something to eat, we’ll take you to them and get you settled. But know this, we’re here to help you, to take care of you…” until we can figure out what to do.
“He’s dead,” she whispered. “The man who owned me. He’s dead and I’m glad.”
She was softening to us, not cowering like a beaten dog. She didn’t even pull away when I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close. She let herself be held and rested her head on my shoulder. I met Colt’s hard stare and whispered. “Me too, sweetheart. Me…too.”
I took her to the spare room we had set up and gathered some of the clothes we’d purchased for the others, then I found sweats and some jeans, as well as one of the packs Doc and his sister had brought us. It was small, but was filled with all the essentials as well as tampons and pads, band-aids and painkillers.
“Here.” I placed the stack on the bathroom vanity. “There’re fresh towels and plenty of hot water, so take all the time you need. I’ll be out here if you need anything.”
She gave a nod, but she was reeling. Her body was shaking so hard her teeth chattered.
“Everything is going to be okay now.” I murmured. “Just you wait and see.”
It was like a blow to my chest when I turned around, closed the door, and left her. I stood there, waiting until I heard the quiet, hard sobs, then I forced myself to leave, swiping away my own tears in the process.
The nursery was quiet and soft amber light spilled out from the cracked-open door. The door I’d closed barely an hour ago. I knew he was in there, watching over them like he always did. I pushed open the door and stepped inside, finding my protector standing over her crib.
I slid my hand in his, lowering my head to his chest as Colt slid his arm around me, pulling me tight against his side.
“She will never know that life,” he said carefully, watching her open-mouthed sleeping. “I promise you now.”
“I know.”
He turned to me. “Her world will be sunshine and daffodils and eating ice cream in all the flavors. Her world will be the hard decisions between pink or purple, or royal blue, for that matter. She will stay awake wondering how butterflies are made…and she will never hear the name Haelstrom Hale in her entire life.”
