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Chapter 6
There wasn’t much in her life she regretted more than not pressing charges against the two boys who had raped her that night. Of course, with their parents’ money and influence nothing would have become of it, but she still regretted being such a coward. She’d let her mother convince her that silence was in her best interest. Somehow her social-climbing mother had turned the whole thing around until she was the victim and Callie was the selfish wench who had ruined everything forher.
Sometimes late at night she could still feel their hands groping her and tearing at her clothes. Their bodies, slick with the sweat of a hot summer’s night, moving over her. The stench of stale beer on their breath as they’d forced their tongues in her mouth. The oppressive weight of them atop her as they forced themselves on her had been crushing. The bruises had faded within the week, but the emotional damage had been far deeper. And she had recently seen some very real progress in her war against those demons.
Callie hadn’t even realized she was squeezing her hands closed until she felt the wineglass in her hand shatter, slicing into her palm. Ian had grabbed her wrist and was quickly pulling shards of glass from her bleeding hand while Jace had quickly started cleaning up the mess she’d made.
“Jesus Christ, Callie, didn’t you just get your ass paddled for not taking care of yourself?Carlin, this is not the way to avoid another spanking. Come on. Up you go.” Callie was registering the words, but they sounded so far away. She had been so lost in the memory she didn’t realize Ian had scooped her up into his arms and headed down a long hallway until she heard him call over his shoulder to Jace to meet them in his bathroom with a med-kit. When she heard him say, “Make sure you have a magnifying glass and sutures,” her head started spinning and she just laid her face against his chest and tried to concentrate on his heartbeat.
“Roger that,” was the big man’s only reply, and she heard his rapidly fading footsteps as he made his way down the hall in the opposite direction.
* * * *
Ian didn’t have any idea what had happened to Callie, but it had to have been extremely traumatic to have caused what could only be termed a post-traumatic stress disorder episode. Ian had seen similar things happen to subs before, but usually there had been some kind of physical trigger. He’d never seen someone who appeared to be processing a request zone out so completely that they didn’t respond to any verbal commands. He’d seen her gripping the glass with such strength he’d started shouting at her to release it before it shattered, but he hadn’t been able to reach through whatever memory she’d been lost in. She hadn’t opened her hand until the shards of glass had cut gashes into her delicate skin.
When Jace entered the bathroom with his med-kit, they set about removing each sliver of glass and washed the wounds thoroughly. Ian knew it had to have hurt, but Callie sat completely stock-still, never reacting to the pain in any way. Ian was starting to worry that they would have to call in professional help to get her to reengage when Jace spoke to him quietly. “I’ve got her. Why don’t you go call Mitch Grayson? His gifts and experience with PTSD might provide some insight. Also, the man has access to information that God himself doesn’t have the security clearance for—ask for his help.”
Ian was reluctant to leave her, but knew they needed some outside help, and they damned well needed the name of whoever hurt her. Leaning forward, he brushed his lips over her forehead and whispered, “I’ll be right back, pet. Let Master Jace take care of you. Be a good girl, now.”
She seemed to have heard him and met his gaze. Her eyes filled with unshed tears and she whispered, “I’m sorry.” His heart nearly melted, and suddenly he wondered if he hadn’t been wrong all these years. Maybe—just maybe he was capable of loving someone.
* * * *
Mitch Grayson had been a huge help and had promised to start looking into Callie’s background immediately. Mitch had given him a brief rundown of possible triggers and explained how the men at ShadowDance had handled similar situations with their women. Ian had been grateful when Mitch let him speak with his wife, Rissa, because she had experienced enough trauma of her own to be a great source of information.
Before they’d ended their call, Mitch had promised to get back to Ian by tomorrow with the information and also suggested Ian make sure Callie was available so he could talk with her via video-cam. Ian remembered that Mitch’s gifts as an empath were greatly enhanced if he could actually see and talk with the person he was reading. Mitch’s ability to “hear” and often feel the emotions and thoughts of other people gave him unique opportunities to help people who had experiences they needed help resolving. It had also been an enormous asset to his SEAL team when they’d interviewed prisoners and victims alike.
They set up the call for 5:00 p.m. the next afternoon to ensure Mitch had plenty of time to gather information. Just before they signed off, Rissa asked to have the phone back, and Mitch had reluctantly agreed, and Ian had suppressed his laughter when he’d heard the very pregnant woman explain that talking on the phone was not a “taxing” physical activity.
“Ian, I just want to know if you are really interested in this woman? Because if you aren’t, let someone else help her. It sounds like she has already had her trust violated in a big way, and well…adding a broken heart to her problems…that would just be mean…um, Sir.” Ian laughed out loud at her words. It was easy to see why Mitch and Bryant had fallen in love with her. He thanked her for her words of wisdom and for looking out for Callie despite the fact they’d never met. It had been humbling when she’d quietly added, “Well, you know, I’ve been there and I know how hard it is…and I’d like to help someone else like Kat and Jenna helped me.”
By the time he returned to the bathroom, Jace had sutured two of the deepest lacerations and gotten Callie changed into a clean shirt. Jace told him that he’d used topical anesthetic on her hand but didn’t want to give her anything orally until she’d eaten. “Callie, tell Master Ian when you last ate.” Jace was in Dom-mode, so Ian already knew he wasn’t going to like the answer.
“Um…well, I didn’t exactly say when, Master Jace.” Her eyes darted between the two of them, and Ian felt his muscles tense. “What I said was that I didn’t remember. That’s not as bad…not really, because it could mean I just have a poor memory.” Ian took a couple of deep breaths and counted to ten—twice. This was a real hot-point for him, and Jace knew it. When he crossed his arms over his chest and raised a brow, she quickly looked at the floor. “Okay, okay, don’t have a stroke. I ate a package of ramen noodles for lunch yesterday. It’s not payday yet and I…well, I’m out of money, okay?”
Ian was seeing red—literally. He wanted to put his fist through the wall because she was living in a hole-in-the wall apartment, in one of the worst neighborhoods in the city, with no heat or hot water, and she was not eating because she couldn’t afford it while her sister was happily accepting help she didn’t need. He wasn’t prepared to tell Callie everything he knew about her “sister dearest” just yet, so he was going to have to temper his response.
“Come along, pet. We’re going to get some decent food in you so you can take some pain medication, which you are no doubt going to need very soon. Then I’m going to start a tally of all the swats you have coming as soon as you are feeling a bit more settled.” When he saw her apprehension, he gave her a mock glare before looking at Jace and asking, “Do we have any poster board? Perhaps some of that butcher’s paper that comes on a long roll? I have a feeling I’m going to need a large piece of paper for this tally.” Her giggle was probably the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard, and he was glad his words had hit their mark and lightened the mood a bit.
