Second-in-Command (Men of Hidden Justice 2) - Page 8

For a moment, I let him hold me. I inhaled his appealing scent. Cedar, fresh air, and citrus. It was warm and rich. Clean. Nothing like—

I jerked up my head. “You wrapped me in a blanket.”

He nodded. “You didn’t like it.”

My breathing became uneven as memories began to burst through my hazy brain. “It smelled like him—the one who took me, who locked me in that cage. Overpowering, like cloves and heavy oil… I couldn’t breathe. I-I…”

He held me closer. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” he repeated. “He’s dead. He won’t hurt you again. No one will hurt you again.”

I couldn’t stop. “You put me in your coat. You brought me here. There was a woman—”

He interrupted me, holding my face, his so close I could feel his breath drift over my skin. “Sofia is a doctor. She examined you. I put you in the shower and then to bed.”

I remembered the shower. The beautiful feeling of the dirt and smell washing off my skin. Even as painful as the water had felt on my sensitive skin and bruises, I had welcomed it. Sobbed under the spray in relief and agony. Offered thanks to whatever intervention had brought the man who placed me in that shower into my path.

I met his eyes. Deep, rich, the color of espresso, with glimmers of gold around his pupils, they were captivating. They had a fire inside them, unlike the cold, empty, dark glares I had been staring at the past while.

Panic began to overtake me, and I struggled not to break. Not to show my weakness. I couldn’t allow the horrors and pain I had gone through to end me. If I succumbed, I would never recover.

“H-help me,” I pleaded.

His embrace tightened, and he gently pressed my head to his chest. His heartbeat was steady, strong, and, somehow, soothing. I shouldn’t trust this man; I didn’t know him. Right now, I didn’t know anything—I couldn’t be sure of anything.

Yet somehow, I did trust him.

“I have you, sweetheart. Whatever you need.”

Against my will, my body shook like a leaf. Terror bled into my chest as the reality of what I had been through soaked into my mind. I began to sob—loud, body-racking, horrified gasps of pain I couldn’t control.

“Let it out,” he murmured. “Let it out, and then you can go forward. I have you.” He pressed his lips to my head. “I have you,” he repeated.

Somehow, those words meant more than anything else.

My eyes flew open, and I was momentarily confused. I was under the blankets, tucked in like a child, warm and safe. I had no recollection of getting there. Startled, I realized someone was gently shaking my shoulder to wake me up. I met the friendly gaze of the woman who had examined me when Marcus brought me here—wherever “here” was.

“Um, hi,” I rasped.

“Hello. Do you remember me?”

“Sofia?”

She smiled. “Yes. I wanted to check you over, see how you were doing.” She indicated a bag on the chair beside the bed where Marcus had slept. “Also, I brought you a few things. Some clothes and toiletries. I’m pretty sure Marcus doesn’t have much girl stuff around.”

I sat up carefully, still aching and sore. “Is that because Marcus doesn’t have many girls here or…”

I had no idea why I asked that question, but now that it was out there, I wanted to know the answer.

Sofia shook her head. “I’ve never known Marcus to have anyone here, much less a girl.”

“Ah.”

“Let me look you over, and you can get into something other than his shirt if you like.”

I didn’t mind wearing his shirt. It was soft and comfortable, and it smelled like him. But I nodded and agreed.

Ten minutes later, Sofia was finished. “Your bruises look better, but you need to heal more. You’re still dehydrated. Have you eaten?”

“No, I think I’ve slept. How long have I been here?”

“About thirty-six hours. You need to eat. And I want you to drink lots. As much as you can manage.”

“Okay.”

She handed me the bag. “Go shower, and I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

At my blank look, she smiled. “It’s just down the hall. The place is pretty open.”

“All right.”

Once again, the shower felt amazing. My head was clearer, and I was able to clean myself thoroughly, scrubbing my skin and washing my hair twice. I had been too exhausted to do much except the barest of efforts the first time Marcus set me in the shower. Sofia had brought me shampoo and conditioner as well as a comb—it took a while to get out all the tangles and snarls. I looked in the mirror, shocked at what I saw. I barely looked like myself. I was thin and drawn, my body a mass of bruises and marks. I had to grip the edge of the counter when a whimper left my mouth as memories flooded my head. The tight ropes around my wrists and ankles. The feel of the rigid collar they had wrapped around my neck that choked me if I moved too much. The terrible darkness that surrounded me. The cold that seeped into my bones, making me shiver so hard I ached from it. The knowledge that I would probably die in that cage, alone, cold, and terrified.

Tags: Melanie Moreland Men of Hidden Justice Romance
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