Authors: A.D. Ryan
Once
on my feet, I wobbled a bit before finding my balance, and I tightened the
blanket around me, bringing it to my nose. My scent mingled with David’s, and I
closed my eyes, taking me back to happier times. Times before a psychotic
werewolf tried to claim me for his own without my consent.
My
stomach churned, and I fell to my hands and knees in the freezing snow,
dry-heaving
until my stomach muscles hurt. When I regained a
little control, Colby and Miranda helped me up, and I walked barefoot in the
snow back to the manor. It was cold, but I barely felt the sting. My body was
numb. I had been attacked while in a body I still wasn’t familiar with. It was
the most vulnerable I’d ever been, and I had no idea how to process that.
The
second we walked through the door, Nick—now dressed in a pair of
low-slung jeans and a button-down shirt—darted out of the dining room,
his eyes wide with a mixture of concern and relief. “Brooke,” he exhaled.
“Thank God.” He reached for me, and I flinched, backing into Miranda. I felt
bad about my reaction, but it was purely reflexive. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me,
but my brain was having trouble making that connection.
“She’ll
be okay,” Miranda assured him, moving her hands up and down my arms when I shivered
and refused to meet his eyes. “Let me take her and get her cleaned up. You just
deal with the situation and figure out what needs to be done.”
Again,
Nick seemed hesitant to this idea, but he agreed, taking a heavy step back. I
glanced over my shoulder as Miranda and Colby accompanied me up the stairs. The
worry on his face was eclipsed by the hurt he felt regarding my reaction to
him. Ashamed, I dropped my head and watched the floor as we walked.
In
my bedroom, Miranda sat me on the end of the bed. I couldn’t seem to kick the
shiver. “You’re chilled to the bone. I’m going to start the shower for you, all
right?”
Unable
to form words right now, because my mind was still flipping through the events
of the last couple hours, I nodded. Colby sat with me, one hand on my back and
the other on my arm as I clutched my blanket around my body tightly. Images
flashed like a slideshow, each one worse than the one before it.
I
heard the shower start a few seconds before Miranda exited the washroom. “I
realize you’re fully capable, but do you want either of us to stay? We wouldn’t
mind, would we, Colby?”
“Not
at all,” Colby said softly, running her hand up and down my back. She was such
a mature soul for seventeen.
I
considered their offer for a minute, my eyebrows pulling together as if this decision
took a lot of thought. Truthfully, it didn’t, but it took me a minute to
actually be able to focus on any one thing in particular. I wanted to believe I
would be okay alone, but I was still afraid of what could happen if they left.
Apparently
being back in this body didn’t give me the power I’d thought it would. What
happened out there had affected me on the deepest emotional level and attached
itself to my psyche. I was afraid I might never feel like myself again. I hated
that I let someone make me this way. He held the power then and took away all
of mine. It wasn’t right, and it most certainly wasn’t fair.
“He’s
been taken care of,” Miranda whispered, kneeling before me and pushing my disheveled
hair behind my ear. “Sweetie, he can’t hurt you. But we’ll stay if you’d feel
safer.”
“I,
uh…” My voice was quiet and scratchy from the damage Karl did when holding me
down. I tried clearing my throat, but that burned too. “I should be okay. Thank
you, though.”
Miranda
and Colby shared a look then stood up. “Okay,” Miranda said. “I’ll be close by,
so if you need
anything
, just call.”
I
nodded, pain blazing beneath the skin of my neck with each movement. “I will.”
Once
they were gone, I took a deep breath and headed for the bathroom. When I opened
the door, the room was filled with steam, obscuring my vision. Fear rippled
down my spine, making me shudder, and I stepped in warily, looking in every corner
and behind the door before fully stepping inside and closing it. I knew it was
ridiculous, but I couldn’t help it.
I
slid the lock into place, checked the knob to make sure it didn’t turn,
unlocked it, then locked and checked it again. When I was convinced no one
could get in—even if deep down I knew that a little door lock couldn’t
stop anyone who lived in this house—I dropped my blanket and stepped into
the shower.
The
water was hot on my skin, but I welcomed it. Even though I escaped the situation
before Karl could succeed, I still felt like I needed to scour every inch of my
skin with hot water and steel wool. I scrubbed my body until it was bright red
and raw, and then washed my hair so I could get out, curl up in my baggiest
sweats, and go to bed. I was ready for this day to end.
So
many emotions swirled around me—fear, shame, anger—and I wasn’t
sure which I should acknowledge first. I’d never been caught in such a
vulnerable state before. Men had never been given the opportunity to take
advantage of me until tonight. I’d always been
well-prepared
to put anyone in their place if they tried anything…Karl included. But tonight
he’d gotten me when I was unprepared and incapable of protecting myself. He
knew he could best me this way and planned to pay me back for humiliating him
in the kitchen.
Realizing
this, I broke down.
Tears
mixed with the water as I pressed my face beneath the spray, and I covered my
mouth to mask my sobs. I couldn’t be sure how long I cried for, but I felt it
in every inch of my body as I slowly lowered myself to my knees on the tile
floor and sobbed into my hands.
When
my tears subsided, I wiped my hands over my face, stood up, and turned the
shower off. Sniffling, I grabbed a towel from the shelf and wrapped it around
my body before opening the bathroom door. Even though the mirror was clouded
over, I noticed the angry purple bruising around my neck and collarbone, and I
cringed, covering one side with my hand as though that would hide it. Taking a
deep breath that I hoped would steel my
resolve,
I
wiped the fog off the glass and brushed out my hair, all the while examining my
reflection.
I
wanted to look away but couldn’t bring myself to do it.
The
bruises on my neck and shoulders.
The noticeably dark
circles beneath my eyes.
Eyes
that were
usually
bright and full of life, now dull and listless.
Who
was this girl? I no longer recognized my own reflection. The girl I
knew—the old me—was slipping away a little more each day. Strangely
enough, I wondered if she was better off that way.
The
door was only open about two inches, but I suddenly sensed a presence in the
room. I immediately froze, panic and fear clawing at my chest and making it
hard to breathe. It wasn’t until Nick’s familiar scent swirled around me that I
let myself relax and open the door the rest of the way.
N
ick sat, unmoving, on
the end of our bed. His hands were folded in his lap as his eyes slowly lifted
to me. My heart clenched upon seeing the fear and remorse in his expression.
His emotions infused the air of our bedroom, merging with mine. Like me, he was
afraid, but he was also angry. He didn’t let his anger show on his face, but it
hung between us, only briefly subsiding when his relief eclipsed everything
else.
Without
a word, Nick shot off the bed and gathered me in his arms, picking me up off
the floor. I was shocked a little at first and didn’t quite know how to react.
Part of me welcomed his embrace and the comfort it was meant to bring, but I
was hesitant about contact in general. Even from Nick. His arms were firm and
unrelenting around my waist, and after a few seconds, I finally relaxed and
wrapped mine around his neck. I threaded my fingers into his unruly hair and
buried my face against his shoulder, breathing him in until the scent of him
filled my head and left no room for all the bad stuff.
His
fear continued to rival my own as his hands splayed over my back, holding me,
reaffirming himself that I wasn’t hurt. “Thank God you’re okay,” he murmured
against my shoulder, kissing it gently. “I’m so sorry.”
I
couldn’t think of anything to say, so I just shook my head, crying freely into
the fabric of his shirt as my fingers curled into it and I clung to him. This
wasn’t his fault, but I knew he would blame himself forever, regardless of what
I said.
Nick
released his hold on me, allowing me to slide slowly to the floor. His hands
moved to cradle my face. “I never should have let you go off on your own like
that. I should have stayed with you.”
“No,”
I said hoarsely, trying to shake my head. “You couldn’t have known.”
Suddenly,
a violent roar echoed through the house, startling me. I jumped toward Nick as
my fear spiked. I felt like that timid wolf hiding beneath the tree all over
again, my fingers digging into the front of Nick’s shirt. I recognized the inhuman
sound as Karl, but where was he and how long before he came barreling in here
to finish what he started?
Nick
picked up on my increasing anxiety, turning me in his arms and holding my gaze.
“He can’t hurt you. Marcus locked him up.”
“L-locked
him up?” I asked, my eyes wild with fear before realization settled in. “You
mean in the pit?”
Nick
nodded. “My guess is he just woke up and realized where he was.”
“What
if he gets out?”
Nick
shook his head. “He won’t. None of us can withstand touching that cage long
enough to break through it, and Marcus will be lacing his food with silver nitrate.
It’ll keep his strength at a minimum without exposing the rest of us.”
“But
he’s still in the house?” I found myself feeling angrier about this new information
rather than focusing on the fact that he was locked up and would be kept in a
weakened state.
“You
know we couldn’t just kick him out,” Nick said, trying to appeal to my rational
side. “We needed to contain him so he couldn’t try anything with you again…or
do it to anyone else.”
I
closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Yes, this made sense. Even as a cop, I
didn’t just let attempted rapists and pedophiles go. I did whatever I had to do
to keep them off the streets so they couldn’t hurt anyone else.
This
was the same thing—even if Karl’s intended victim happened to live under
the same roof as his cell.
The
shouting continued, and I was surprised at just how well the sound traveled
through the house. I couldn’t make out anything he said—if he was even
speaking through all the screams—but it eventually got to me, and I sat
on the bed, covered my ears, and tried to block it out.
Nick
knelt on the floor in front of me, gently coaxing my hands from my ears. “It’s
okay. He stopped,” he whispered. “I think Marcus tranquilized him.”
Even
though the screaming had stopped, my heart still pounded and my breaths were
labored. My panic attack showed absolutely no signs of letting up anytime soon,
and I hated that I was back in this emotional state. Had I not been through
enough? It seemed that every time I started to make peace with the direction my
life took, something else had to happen to throw me off balance.
Bobby,
David, and now Karl… When would it end?
Nick’s
eyes left mine, and his forehead furrowed when they stopped on my neck. His
hands drifted down and lightly brushed the skin there as he shook his head. “I
can’t believe he did this to you,” he whispered. The skin was still sensitive,
and I remembered how bruised it was after my shower. I flinched when his thumb
passed over a particularly sore spot, and he regarded me apologetically.
“Sorry. He broke the skin. It’s already healing, though.”
I
brought my hand up to my neck and covered
it,
suddenly
sick about sporting a physical reminder of what Karl had tried to do to me.
Proof of my weakness.
I was ashamed, and I didn’t want Nick
to see.
“The
bites should be healed up by tomorrow, but you might be bruised for a few days
yet,” he said solemnly, hesitating before he continued. “Unfortunately, there’s
a high probability of scarring.”
I
inhaled shakily; I was devastated at the thought of seeing this around my neck
every time I passed by a mirror. It would serve as a constant reminder to both
of us what happened, and I wasn’t sure I could handle that.
Sensing
my melancholy had dipped even lower, Nick placed his hands on the outsides of
my thighs. I flinched, and he instantly pulled back, glancing up at me
apologetically. I regretted my reaction the second it happened, but I couldn’t
help it.
It
seemed like he suppressed his hurt in lieu of my own trauma as he stood up.
“How about you get dressed,” Nick gently suggested, glancing down at the towel
I still wore. “We should turn in. You’ve been through a lot and you look beat.”
Until
he brought it up, I hadn’t really felt tired, but now it was like a weighted
blanket had been draped over my shoulders. I nodded once, exhaustion quickly
filling my limbs like lead, and walked over to my dresser where I grabbed a
pair of yoga pants and my old college sweatshirt. Retreating into the bathroom
for a little privacy, I caught my reflection in the mirror again. No matter how
many times I saw the dark bruising around my neck, it shocked me. The contrast
to my golden skin was startling. It looked awful, and there were several deep
punctures on either side of my neck from where Karl had bitten down to keep me
pinned and quiet.
I
shuddered violently as the memory bore down on me. I had to clamp my hand over
my mouth and attempt to choke back a sob when I remembered how he hovered over
my defenseless body, pressing his full weight on me. A soft knock on the door
saved me from disappearing any further into the memory, and I quickly dressed
before opening it to find Nick looking concerned.
“You
okay?” he asked, the look in his eyes telling me he already knew I wasn’t.
“Not
really,” I told him truthfully, wiping the new tears from my cheeks. “I just
want to go to bed.”
“Brooke,”
he prodded, maybe hoping I’d open up and be on my way back to how I used to be.
That would take a while…if it happened at all.
My
chin quivered as I brushed past him and pulled the blankets down on my side of
the bed before I climbed in. “Please, Nick,” I begged, my eyes wide with worry.
“I can’t do this right now. Can’t we just go to bed?”
Conceding,
Nick nodded and proceeded to unbutton his shirt and remove it. The second he
pulled it open, my eyes widened in alarm; his entire ribcage was bruised and
scratched to hell. How was he even upright?
Nick
followed my gaze and shrugged. “It looks worse than it is, really.” He pulled
his shirt from his shoulders, and I saw him try to hide his wince. “That moose
packed quite a punch.” As he crawled into bed beside me, I saw the scratches
and cuts a little more clearly. These weren’t from the moose but from the fight
between him and Karl. Some were from Karl’s claws and others were from his
teeth. Karl had been there to witness the kick Nick took from the moose, and he
had used that to his sadistic advantage when fighting. Thankfully, Nick didn’t
let that stop him from coming out on top.
An
awkward moment hung between us before Nick lay down next to me. With more than
a foot of empty bed between us—the most there’d been the entire time
since we’d left Scottsdale—it seemed like he was afraid to be too close
to me. I couldn’t fault him that; I was a wreck and had pulled away from him
almost every time he reached out to me.
“I…”
he began, his voice barely above a whisper as he stared at the ceiling. “I
don’t know what to do here. I want to hold you—take away the memory of tonight—but
you feel so out of reach.”
Mustering
up as much strength as I could, I slid across the bed until I could feel the
warmth of his body against my skin. I wasn’t ready to be much closer intimately
anymore, but I realized I needed this as much as he did. I wasn’t the only one
hurting and insecure right now. This had happened to him as well. I understood
that on some level.
Nick
turned his body to face me, slowly inching his hand toward mine. Taking a deep
breath, I welcomed his touch and offered him the most sincere smile I could. It
wasn’t much, but I sensed that it was enough for now.