Beautifully Broken

“How do you feel?” I ask. Walking to where I left the first aid kit on the bed, I take in the bruises on her face that have faded some more. The burn on her cheek might leave a scar, which is a pity.

I watch her cheeks grow pink under my inspection.

“Confused, scared, ashamed…” she mutters honestly to my surprise. Her shoulders slump, and then she whispers, “Okay.” She clears her throat and then louder, “I’m okay.”

“You’ll get there.” I gesture for her to come closer. “Let me look at your wounds.” She inches closer and cautiously sits down on the side of the bed. When I crouch in front of her, I ask, “How’s the pain?”

Cara hesitates at first, but then she lets the word out with a harsh breath, “Better.” She fidgets uncomfortably, and I know it’s because of me. I’ll have to watch the other memory cards to see what else happened to her, so I’ll know how to handle her.

Cara’s different from the other women I’ve saved. Usually, they cling and they need comfort, but she’s the total opposite.

Maybe she has some fight left in her.

“Remove the sweater.” I keep my voice neutral. It seems to put her at ease when I keep my tone emotionless.

I open the first aid kit. “From tomorrow, I want you to do this yourself until your wounds are healed.”

I’m hoping it will give her back some of her independence.

I watch as Cara takes hold of the sweater that’s two sizes too big for her. Her fingers dig into the material, and her knuckles go white.

“I…,” she clears her throat again, and then she hugs herself, “I can manage. You don’t need to do it.”

Her whole body is tense, and she’s hunkering into herself as if she’s trying to make herself a smaller target.

“Okay,” I say, and rising to my full height, I leave the room. When I reach the door, I glance back at her. “You’re safe, Cara,” I say the words because I know she needs to hear them, and at some point, I’m hoping they’ll take root and drive some of the fear from her.

I close the door behind me, and then I stare at it, waiting to see what her reaction will be.

Within a couple of seconds, the door’s yanked open, and Cara’s eyes widen when she sees I’m still standing here.

“I… I,” she takes a step back and mumbles, “don’t close it.”

Just like I thought, she’s claustrophobic. It’s a good thing the house is big because it’s going to be a while before Cara’s okay with small spaces again… if ever.

I’m also noticing she’s showing more emotion, which means she’s starting to feel. Now the hard part begins. She’s either going to deal with what happened to her, or it’s going to destroy her.

Only time will tell how strong Cara is, but I’ll be there to help her every step of the way.

Chapter 9

CARA

I’ve lived with Damian for almost two months, and another morning comes, gray and miserable. The wind howls around the house, and it makes it feel big and empty.

I was too freaked to take in anything, but now that some time has passed, I’m starting to see. I’m beginning to hear and… feel… way too much.

I’m too alive for all the pain inside of me. It gives the trauma something to feed on, something to destroy.

When the walls of my bedroom begin to close in on me, I go look for Damian and find him in the kitchen. He’s usually either in here or up in his study, which is the one place in the house I’m not allowed to go. I haven’t been outside yet because I’m not brave enough to take that step yet.

“I’d give you something to help you sleep, but I don’t want to struggle to wake you up if shit comes knocking on the door and we have to run in the middle of the night,” Damian says, giving me a once-over like he always does.

I stop halfway into the kitchen and turn to him. “It’s okay,” I reply, my voice lacking strength.

I’ve fallen into a routine of cleaning and cooking, not that there’s much to clean, and cooking consists of either heating up frozen dinners or making something simple like mac and cheese. It’s one hell of an upgrade from the cup o’ noodles I used to live off.

I haven’t had a whole night’s rest since we left the motel. I know it’s because Damian now sleeps in his own room. I was shocked when I realized how safe I felt with him watching over me.

It’s something I’ve been clinging to – feeling safe with Damian. It’s also probably the only thing that’s kept me from losing my mind.

I’m too scared to sleep for long, so the nights go by slowly, stretching the darkness in me to breaking point. It’s a constant battle to keep the memories buried.