My heart broke and is still breaking seeing her crushed, laying over her dead brother, bleeding and muddy. Nothing in life can prepare you to see something like that. It'll twist your guts inside and make you wish you could erase it from your memory forever.
I know I promised her I'd take care of her brother, and her parents would get the closure they needed, and that's what we intended to do, but first, I needed to get her cleaned up.
Our shower steamed up the room as she and I stood under the scalding water, cleaning the mud off her cuts, scrapes, and bruises. A dark bruise was forming above her brow and on her side from what appeared to be a broken rib. I ran my hands gently down her body, lathering her skin and carefully scrubbing the mud-caked on her thighs and knees.
I scrubbed her scalp, freeing her hair from debris and dirt. She neither moved nor spoke. She wasn't here anymore. Her eyes weren't the vibrant emerald we've always noticed. They were dull, almost as if she, too, was dead inside.
Tipping her head back, I lightly rinsed the suds from her hair, then pulled her out of the water without so much as a fight from her and wrapped a towel around her shivering body. Her skin held its pink tint as I brushed her hair down her back, then placed it in a loose braid.
Luca called Doctor Dan when he dropped us off at my place. The argument was he had to take care of the situation at hand, and that was why he wanted her with me in my home, but I knew it was because he had a battle of his own. He couldn't see her in this state, and that was okay. He wasn't equipped to handle situations such as these.
I donned my briefs and a pair of basketball shorts, then dressed her in one of my t-shirts and set her down on my bed to wait for the doctor to arrive.
As if a memory fluttered into her mind, she broke down once more. Her shoulders shook as tears fell from her eyes and trailed over the cut on her chin, but she didn't flinch nor move to wipe them away. They ran their course, and she allowed them to find their path to the floor while I wrapped my arms around her and consoled her the best I knew how.
Someone knocked on the front door. I stood then looked back at her, hesitant to leave, even for a brief moment—another rap on the door. I broke away as quick as I could and came right back with Doctor Dan at my heels with his signature red bag. He placed it on the bed beside her and looked her over with a frown creasing his forehead.
"I'm going to give you something to help you sleep," he explained.
He opened a bottle of medication and held two out for her to take, but she didn't move as if in a catatonic state or she just didn't care.
"I'm worried she might be in shock," I said.
He nodded, agreeing with my concern, then tenderly took hold of her hand, placed the two white pills in her palm, and closed it. I grabbed a bottle of water from the nightstand and held it to her lips, forcing her to take a sip and swallow the pills.
"Charity, I'm going to examine you. Is that okay?" he asked.
She cast her gaze to the floor but never said a word. Dan took what he could get. His eyes widened as he noted the deep knife wounds on her forearms, showing fatty tissue and muscle inside. He hummed as he pulled the supplies from his bag and laid them out on the bed.
"This is going to sting a bit," he said as he pulled the cap off the needle.
She never flinched or balked while he stitched the wounds and glued the minor cut on her brow or when he taped the broken rib. I expected some sort of reaction, but there was nothing. She was just blank. By the time he finished, her lids were heavy and bobbing as she resisted the medicine that made her want to sleep. Dan left, giving me orders to make sure she was responsive during her sleep, but there was no need to fully wake her every two hours.
I pulled the sheets back for her, tucked her in, and then pulled the comforter tight to her chin. Kissing the top of her head, I climbed in on the other side. This was the first time I had Charity in my home, and I wished it had been under better circumstances. I wrapped my arms around her waist, being mindful of her sore body, then watched her stare at the ceiling, broken and empty, and it made me mad.
All I want to know is, why? Why would he do this to her? She sacrificed everything for him and supported him with everything she had. Did he give her those answers? Did she know why he tried to hurt her? Would we ever find out the horrible reasoning in his sick and twisted mind that justified his actions?
Her eyes finally closed, then shot back up, then closed again, this time staying shut—hopefully for the night. Her mind and soul went through the wringer, and it would take a long time to dim the feelings her brother stained in her heart.
I caressed her belly with my thumb in soothing strokes as I watched her breathing steadily with long deep breaths, followed by a significant pause in between. After a while, when I was sure she was sleeping, I touched her bruised knuckles, causing her to slightly twitch in response, just as Dan suggested.
"Come back to me, Charity. I can't stand to see you so lost and broken. I love you. I fully intend to tell you this when you are ready to hear it, but I love you, and there is no going back from it now. If I’d lost you tonight, I can’t tell you what I'd do with myself."
I looked at the ceiling, trying to think of more to say, but found the words to be elusive. It didn't matter anyway; she couldn't hear me. Giving up on my thoughts, I sighed and stuffed my pillow to a comfortable fluff, then settled down with her hand resting in mine.
"I love you too, Nico," she slurred.
A smile ripped across my face with startling velocity as my cheeks heated to a boiling point. Clearing my throat quietly, I rubbed a hand down my face to hide the flush I was thankful no one was around to witness.
We had our moment earlier than I expected, but I was grateful for it, nonetheless. I couldn't let another moment pass where I hadn't spoken those words—where I hadn't told her just how I felt, even though she may not remember it in the morning. If she didn't, that was okay. I'd get to have two moments for the price of one.
Chapter 26
Charity
It was the phone call I was waiting for but didn't want to answer.
If I did, it meant I had to accept this new reality, and I wasn't willing to do that—I was still in denial.