I touch her jerking shoulder lightly, and it sets her off. She lets out a petrified shriek as she rears back even further. Her arm swings out, her fist connecting with my chest. Her face is wet with tears, her breaths nothing more than strangled gulps of terror.
My heart shrivels at the heartbreaking sight and framing Cara’s face with both my hands, I try to get her to look at me, but she only pinches her eyes shut.
“Open your fucking eyes,” I snap, and they instantly fly open, but there’s no recognition in them, only terror.
“Cara, it’s Damian,” I try a different tactic, but it doesn’t seem to work.
Her gaze jumps wildly around the small space, and the pain I see on her face flays me to the bone.
“Cara,” I say in the neutral tone I used when I first found her, “you’re safe. I’ve got you.”
Two seconds pass before her eyes flick to my face. “Damian?” she squeezes my name out in a pathetic whimper.
“Come to me,” I say, my tone now gentle. “Come to me, baby.”
She starts to struggle in the small space. Fuck only knows how she got herself in there. Grabbing hold of her shoulders, I yank hard to get her out. Rather the quick pain than another panic attack because she’s stuck.
Cara comes free, and with a broken cry, she slams into me. Her arms go around my neck, and she clings with all her might. Climbing to my feet, I pick her up, and when I turn around, the women scatter back. I give them a dark glare. If they were men, I’d beat the shit out of them for what they did.
I stalk out of the restroom, and I don’t stop until I reach the car. I quickly unlock the passenger door and place Cara in the seat. She doesn’t let go of my neck, and I have to pull her arms away from me. After putting on her seatbelt, I shut the door. Running to the driver’s side, I start the engine, and I don’t care about speed limits as I race home.
My heart is pounding hard, and anger burns through my veins. I’m angry at myself for pushing Cara to go out. It was too soon.
Fuck, I’m an idiot. I’ve just undone all the hard work of the past four months.
I glance at her petite frame, where she’s curled up on the seat. Her whole body shudders, and lost sobs drift from her.
“I’m so fucking sorry, baby,” the words spill from me.
Fuck, seeing her break down and reliving the trauma keeps lashing at my heart with brutal strikes. It makes me realize just how important Cara’s become to me over the past four months.
I care about her. A lot.
CARA
My head is pounding as hard as my heart. I feel drained of the little life I’ve managed to get back.
I feel filthy. Disgust swallows me in thick waves.
I’ve been poisoned by the vulgarity and cruelty of the men who raped me, and it’s killing me fast.
I’m not going to make it.
The car jerks to a stop, and it only takes seconds for Damian to open my door. He yanks the seatbelt off and then pulls me out of the car. My body feels numb as he holds me tightly to his chest. My arms hang lifelessly next to my sides while his are steel clamps keeping me from shattering to pieces.
“I’m sorry, Cara,” Damian whispers as he lifts me in his arms and carries me into the house. He kicks the door shut and then sits down at the bottom of the stairs, cradling me on his lap.
I rest my pounding head against his shoulder, and fresh tears warm my cheeks. It feels like I’m going to explode, but instead, my voice is empty when I whisper, “It never stops.”
Damian presses a hand to my cheek, and it feels as if he’s trying to engulf me with his body so nothing can ever touch me again.
A sob bursts over my lips as I curl into his warmth. “Make it stop.”
“I wish I could. Christ, more than anything, I wish I could,” he rasps, sounding just as devastated as I feel.
Damian just holds me until I finally manage to regain control over the tormenting flashes, and I calm down enough to stop the tears.
“Come on. Let’s get you in bed.” Climbing to his feet, he doesn’t let go of me and carries me to my bedroom.
When Damian walks into my room, he doesn’t put the light on. The darkness is only broken by the moonlight shining in through the window.
He sets me down on the side of the bed, and then he walks over to the closet. I watch him take clothes out before he comes back.
“Shirt off,” he murmurs, his tone nothing but caring.