Beautifully Broken

The color drains from Cara’s face, raw terror tightening her features. Her body begins to tremble like a leaf in a shit storm. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her I’m sorry for asking the question when she stammers, “Mr. Tredoux… used to work with… my dad… and Uncle Tom.”

A fine layer of sweat begins to bead on her forehead, and she swallows hard. “I don’t know why… th-they took me.”

Nodding, I turn my attention back to the road, and knowing she needs to hear the words, I murmur, “All that matters now is that you’re safe.”

I can feel her eyes on me, and I know she’s trying to figure out if there’s any truth to my words. It’s going to take a while before she learns to trust me. Until then, I’ll just keep reassuring her.

The intense desire to protect her creeps up on me again. It’s been a fucking long time since I felt a connection of any kind with a woman. Although I’ve been with my fair share, it was always just to fulfill a need, like scratching an itch.

There was never the desire to get to know one of them, to take care of the shit threatening them, to keep them close so nothing could ever hurt them again.

Once again, my gaze finds Cara, and taking in her fragile beauty that’s become more prominent as the bruises begin to fade, I try to pinpoint why I feel different about her.

Because she’s broken?

Because I found her in the bowels of hell that’s my everyday life?

Christ only knows at this point.

Chapter 7

CARA

After the questions Damian asked, we drive in silence with only the buzzing of other cars and the hum of the wheels breaking the stillness of the night.

When Damian asked if I knew the group, it scratched the frail scab right off that’s managed to form over the trauma.

It makes me remember, and I don’t have tears to ease the flashes away. I have zero strength to fight off the demons.

It’s as if the motel was a cocoon of safety from my memories, and now that we’ve left, I’m assaulted from all sides.

I remember the smell of the car when Damian placed me in the back seat. I remember the blankets he covered me with. I don’t know how long I was unconscious until I finally woke up that day in the motel room.

I also remember the look in his eyes when he killed them all.

He killed people.

“They’re all dead. You killed them all.” My voice sounds as neutral as his has been the past few days.

“Yes,” he says.

“Why?” I don’t know why I’m asking. I don’t want to think of them. I don’t care whether they’re breathing or not.

My stomach knots painfully, and I start to feel claustrophobic as the traumatic events whirl around me like a deadly tornado. It’s like I’m in the eye of the storm.

“Do you really want me to answer that?” Damian asks. I feel his eyes on me for a moment before he turns his attention back to the road.

I glance at his strong fingers gripping the steering wheel, his other hand resting on his thigh. His whole demeanor is casual. Everything – but his eyes.

“Yes,” I whisper. I want to know why Damian does what he does and what exactly it entails. I want to know who this man is.

“I do various things, mostly I track and clean,” he starts.

I keep my eyes on his hand, the one on his leg.

“Part of my job is to retrieve kidnapped victims.”

What about the other part? What is he leaving out?

“And you just kill the kidnappers?” I ask the trembling in my body echoing through my voice.

“Careful what you ask, Cara.”

I don’t know if I’m scared shitless of him or whether I feel safer knowing what he does. All I know is I’m tired, and I feel old, so very old.

And maybe… just maybe, it doesn’t matter if Damian kills people. As long as he doesn’t hurt me, right?

If I’m really safe with him, does any of it matter?

As the miles slip away behind us, I stare into the night. My mind is a chaotic mess of memories, all vile, all crippling. Then there’s the gnawing uncertainty of whether Damian’s a friend or enemy.

I can’t take any more.

Please let him be a friend. I could really use one right now.

Please.

When Damian finally stops in front of a house, I can’t see much of it in the dark. I can make out it’s big and old, but that’s it.

Climbing out of the car, my body aches from sitting still for so long. I follow Damian to the porch, but I make sure to keep a safe distance between us. He unlocks the door, and then he disappears inside.

A light goes on somewhere inside, and then I take a step closer. I peek into the house and can only see a glimpse of what looks like a living room, a set of stairs going up, and a hallway to the right.