Eleanor cradles her hand to her chest, her tears dried to her face, eyes red rimmed and still shining. She’s pale, breathing heavy.
I made a mistake trusting Ace to handle her training. I knew he was brutal and unforgiving, but a part of me thought he would take it easy, at least to start with.
No such hope.
The bruising on her hand was already showing itself. It could be broken. A lot of her could be broken.
She stays close to my side, quiet and subdued as I walk her towards my bedroom. My penthouse was free rein to my closest, but my room was at least off limits. No one would bother us here.
I guide her in with a hand on the base of her spine and though she flinches at the contact she doesn’t pull away. She doesn’t appear to take anything in as she looks around and then promptly heads to the bed to sit, tucking her legs up to her chest and resting her chin on her knees.
“Eleanor,” I start.
She sniffs loudly.
A part of me breaks at that sound.
“Let me see your hand,” I say.
“You let him do that,” she accuses.
“No,” I pause, “Well yes, but I didn’t think he’d be so hard.”
“I thought he was going to kill me.”
“Abel wouldn’t…”
“Wouldn’t he?”
“No, he wouldn’t, he’s teaching you the only way he knows.”
“How?”
“Kill or be killed, love. It’s all he knows.”
She tucks her hand in closer, scowling towards the corner of the room.
“Let me check that,” I say.
“No.”
“Eleanor,” I growl, “Let me check it.”
She doesn’t answer, just keeps her head turned, “If I knew this was what you had planned when you told me to come, I would never have booked that Uber.”
I knew she wasn’t lying, but I had nothing to say to that.
“Let me check that hand,” the words are nothing short of a command.
I watch the muscle twitch in her jaw before she releases the grip on her own hand and holds it out. It’s bruised, but it isn’t swollen which is a good sign. I force her fingers out, bending and moving them. She doesn’t cry out, only flinches and grits her teeth. They move without issue. As far as I can tell nothing is broken.
“You should have an x-ray,” I state, not wanting to push her, “I’ll have a hospital contact you tomorrow to book you in.”
“Why would he do that?” She asks quietly, “Knowing I can’t defend myself.”
“Abel is a different breed,” I sigh, “he doesn’t think about the consequences, only what is going to help him survive. It’s brutal and it’s ugly, but it works because if survival is the only goal, then you’ll do nothing but survive, no matter the cost.”
“That doesn’t make it okay. I thought I was suffocating.”
Guilt and pain grip my chest, “He’s trying to help.”
“I don’t want his help.
I swallow, “Okay, love.”