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“Somewhere along the way, you carved out a place in my heart. You rooted your way under my skin and became a piece of me. And it killed me when you went missing. Then seeing you, battered and broken, bloodied on that concrete floor in the dark? Fucking killed me.” I hold her close, gaze bouncing between her eyes. “And I refuse to allow that to happen again. I cannot lose you a second time.”
She fills her lungs and holds the air as if letting it out again would be giving up control, allowing a wall around her to crack, and letting the darkness to seep through the fissures.
Chapter 14
Uncaged
TRUIE
Then
My body is bruised and broken, but it will heal. Yes, there will be scars screaming to tell the story of pain and torture, of my trauma and survival. Sadly, I don’t think strength gets a chapter in that story. Nor does defiance, because the fact that I’m still alive has nothing to do with me.
“Jesus, what did they do to you?” The voice is soft and lyrical, edged in disbelief and sharp with anger.
I don’t respond. I can’t.
If nothing else in the time since I was dragged in here, I’ve learned to keep my mouth shut and stay alert until it’s time to disassociate. To remember voices, faces, and the touch that belongs to each of them.
And the pain of taking a simple breath after punishment for failing at those things rained down on me.
But this is a voice I’d like to remember.
Gentle hands lift me from the filthy concrete floor. Strong arms cradle me against the solid planes of a chest, wrapping me in a scent that I can’t quite place. Warm and clean. Crisp and comforting—fresh like the sun. It mutes the pain that rips through my ribs.
I might be floating. For the first time since I was taken, I feel safe.
I feel hope, but hope is a dangerous thing.
I’d hoped to escape this town with my best friend and start over somewhere new with no history, no presumptions.
I’d hoped to be free and do something with my life that I could be proud of.
Hoped I could be safe.
But all of that was nothing more than a pipe dream, one that went up like smoke. Or like dust on a gravel road. I gave up on each of those hopes in bits and pieces. They were taken from me, extracted from me through hours upon hours of pain. Bled from me with every slice along my thighs, over and over and over again. Dripped and congealed, mixed with dirt and grime and things I didn’t want to think about. Things I had to tuck away into a strong black box that I kept tucked far back in the recesses of my mind.
My mind. There’s an entirely different kind of broken with that. One I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to mend. Being awake, aware through all of the trauma that caused that rift… that’s its own, never-ending kind of torture.
“What the fuck, Tig? Thought you said there were no survivors.” The owner of those words sounds like he has a cold, nasally and whining.
“And that’s the story we’re going to stick with, yeah? No survivors.” The arms holding me squeeze a little tighter and a whimper bursts free with the pressure on my ribs. “Goddammit, I need to get her out of here, have her looked at by a doctor.”
A harsh laugh sounds from behind my back, and I push down the pain, swallowing another whimper. “I’d fucking love that. Think Doc can straighten out my nose? Not sure I like having it leaning so far to the left.”
“Not my concern.”
“Asshole.” A loud clap follows the insult, and the man holding me jerks to the side. The movement jostles me sending more pain lancing through my body.
“Fucking touch me again, and it’ll be the last time you’re able, understand? The girl’s injured far worse than your broken nose. Man up and get us out of here.” Movement rocks me as my savior softens his hold, cradling me like I might break at any moment. “You all right, love? I’ve got you. We’ll get you out of here, make sure you’re safe, get you looked at and out of pain.”
It’s a promise filled with good intention. I totally get that. But pain is a necessity, not a nuisance. Pain lets me know I’m still alive. Sometimes it’s the only thing I have to hold onto, to keep me grounded. It’s precious to me.
“Nothing can hurt you now. I won’t allow it.” Then the voice drops lower, the lyrical tone strengthening. “Christ, you’re nothing but a tiny little bird. Your pulse is fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings.” The soft words pause, and the chest I’m held against expands. It’s solid, strong, and full of assurances. “I swear to you, I’ll kill every one of them. Every man who laid a finger on you, who caused you harm, through word or touch, will die a painful death at my hand. I don’t care how important they think they are, what kind of protection they think that have, I will slice them down. Fuck, I’ll cut them apart, rip them limb from limb with my own hands. Still won’t be enough, but they will never lay another finger on you.”
This promise? This is one I can get behind. No one has ever offered me such a thoughtful gift before. Not even my own father. Certainly not when he sold me out to my captor.
He shifts me in his arms and, though I can’t begin to think it’s intentional after the vow that just spilled from his lips, pain stabs through my body, and the world goes dark.
