I do as I'm told, even though I hate removing her clothes while she's unaware. She's had so much taken from her already, and I hate taking her modesty away while she's unconscious. My only consolation is that this is for her health and safety, not to take advantage of her. The material of her t-shirt sticks to her skin from the dried blood it's covered in. Anger fills me at the sight of blood on her pale skin. She's covered in it. Her blonde hair is caked with blood and dirt. Despite it all, she's still beautiful. The blood is a macabre sight, but it's visual proof of how much of a fighter she is.
"Grab some washcloths from the bathroom. We need to clean some of this blood away so I can see her injuries," Dr. Wolfe says.
I find the washcloths and a large bowl in a cabinet. I fill the bowl with warm water and add soap. When I return, Dr. Wolfe is checking Willow's blood pressure. I set the bowl on the nightstand and wait for her to finish.
"Her blood pressure is low. I'm not surprised. She's likely dehydrated and, from the looks at her, malnourished. Fluids, rest, and a healthy diet should resolve that issue."
"Why hasn't she woken up yet?" I ask.
"She's been through something traumatic. She'll wake up when she's ready. Let's get her cleaned up and make sure none of this blood is hers."
We carefully clean Willow and my anger grows as her skin is revealed. She's covered in bruises. She has a few scratches, probably from her run through the woods. It's the deep bruises around her slender neck that are the worst. My stomach rolls at the sight. It's a glaring reminder that I could have lost her. It makes that possessiveness scratch at my insides like a feral beast.
I have no idea how I'll let her go after this. Not when everything in my being screams that she's meant to be mine. It's confusing because I have never felt this way about a woman. I've never had the desire to keep someone. I only do casual. Though, I haven't done that in a long time. I can't recall the last time I hooked up with a woman.
Seeing my two best friends fall in love changed something I hadn't even realized until now. It's evident that subconsciously, I've wanted what they have. Why Willow? She's the exact opposite of who I should want. She's been hurt for God knows how long. She deserves so much better than a man who would crave her complete submission. It would be wrong to ask that of someone who's been enslaved and subjected to horrible atrocities at the whims of monsters.
No, she deserves better. Someone who can be gentle with her and help her heal. That man isn't me. I would never abuse her. In fact, I want to treat her like a fucking queen. I would take care of her like she's the most precious thing in the world because she would be the most precious thing in my world. None of that matters, though, because there's no ignoring my dominant nature. My desire for control would send her running. There is no way she would want that kind of relationship.
Dr. Wolfe tsks when she checks over Willow's bruising. "Her throat is going to be sore for a while. I won't know if there was damage to her vocal cords until she wakes up. Otherwise, she's physically fine. I'm going to put her on IV fluids so we can get her hydrated and give her some vitamins. I will do a more comprehensive physical once she's awake."
I know that she's talking about examining her like they would for any victim of rape. She can't run a rape kit like the authorities would because we need to fly under the radar, but she will check for injuries and provide medical care if necessary.
"I'm going to go check over the others. Come get me when she's awake," Dr. Wolfe says.
Once I'm alone with my Beauty, I return to her side. I can't stop looking at her. I still can't believe she was there tonight. What are the odds? I don't even want to think about what would've happened if I hadn't been there. If I hadn't been, I never would've seen Willow again. She would've been killed tonight after her buyer did God knows what to her.
I owe Hera for the tip about Mecca, more than the exorbitant amount of money I've already paid for the information. Maybe I'll send her a new set of custom throwing knives. She loves a good blade but has complained repeatedly about the best knives being made for much larger hands. Even though I can't keep Willow, I will always be grateful to Hera for inadvertently bringing her into my life.
Goosebumps cover Willow's skin, and I realize she's cold. I find an oversized t-shirt in one of the dresser drawers. I hate the idea of putting another man's clothes on her and am irrationally angry about it until I see the price tag still attached. I dress her, then cover her with the blanket from the foot of the bed. I want to crawl into bed and hold her close but refrain. She'd probably freak out to find me in her bed when she wakes up. Instead, I dim the lights and sit in a chair where I can watch over her from a safe distance.
CHAPTER TEN
WILLOW
Slowly, I drift back from the inky blackness of unconsciousness. My whole body aches, especially my throat. I swallow, but my mouth is dry, so there is no relief. My eyelids feel like they weigh a million pounds. Giving up on that, I use my other senses to figure out where I am because I instinctively know I'm not at Mecca. My mind is foggy, and I can't quite grasp onto any memories of how I got wherever I am.
I'm lying on a bed. It's softer than anything I've laid on since I was taken. The room smells like a mixture of lemon and fresh linen with an undercurrent of something metallic. I easily recognize the scent of blood. It seems out of place here—wherever here is.
Finally, the weight on my eyelids lifts, and I blink them open. The room is dimly lit, so I can't make out much of it. I move to sit up, but something tugs at my arm. I'm hooked to an IV, which further confuses me because they never give any of us real medical attention. We only get the type of first aid we can do ourselves.
I swallow again, the pain in my throat causing me to whimper. Memories of what happened crash through my mind. My time in the cage. Being sold at auction. Attacking the man that bought me.
Kisten.
It was Kisten that bought me. He helped me and the other girls escape the mansion. Pushing myself to run through the woods even though I was exhausted. Then someone screamed… running towards the screaming and finding two men attacking Lucy and Stacia. I tackled one of the men, then shot him twice.
I killed him.
I should feel bad about taking a life. There should be some kind of guilt or shame attached to taking a life, but I don't feel anything. It was him or us. I would do it again without hesitating. Things get fuzzy after that… I was attacked by the second man. I remember his body pinning me to the ground as he wrapped his hands around my neck. I remember the crazed look in his eyes as he squeezed the life out of me. Then there was blood everywhere. So much blood.
We ran again… the feeling of desperation fueled me as I pushed myself beyond my limits. Kisten found us. I recall seeing him and feeling so much relief that I staggered straight into his arms.
Then… Nothing.
Kisten must've brought me here. It would explain why I'm not in some shitty room or a cage like I'm used to. I try to sit up, but my body protests the movement. I let out a groan that turns into a pained whimper.
"Beauty," Kisten's voice comes from my right. He rises from his chair and crosses the room to the bed. He looks exhausted, and I wonder how long he's been sitting there.