Page 2 of Dragon's Code

“Miss?” He kneels down next to me.

“I was kidnapped,” I say, my voice croaking from disuse. My throat feels raw from lack of water. And before that, lots of screaming.

“All right, miss, let’s get you out of here. My name is Officer Frank.” He shifts his stance. “Do you think you can make it to my car or do you want me to pick you up?” he asks gently.

I must look as bad as I feel. His eyes trail over me, his expression trying to remain neutral as he takes in my dirty, bleeding, beat up feet, the scrapes and scratches along my legs and arms.

Then it’s the blood stained on my inner thighs, the bruises that cover every inch of my skin, matching fingerprints circling my throat.

I know my hair is matted with spit, semen, and muck from the cage I’ve been living in for the last couple of weeks.

“I’ll make it.” My voice shakes as I say it, but I don’t want to be touched. I don’t want his hands on me.

He stands as I start to move again. He holds out his hand for me to take, but doesn’t insist on helping me. He doesn’t touch me.

I stumble, limp to his car.

He’s ready to catch me to keep me from falling to the ground but he keeps a respectful distance and doesn’t force anything on me.

It’s the first time I’ve felt marginally safe in weeks.

He opens the door for me, still holding out his hand in case I need it.

I drop into the backseat, pulling my knees into my chest.

He disappears around the back of the car and comes back a moment later with a thick gray blanket. He unfolds it and hands it into the car to me, but still makes no effort to touch me.

At first, I hold it against my legs, but I don’t make any effort to wrap it around me, to cover myself. I’m too numb.

He smiles softly at me as he closes the door gently.

Even when he walks around the car and slides into the driver’s seat, he closes that door gently, like he doesn’t want to jostle the car or make too much noise.

Like I’m a skittish wild animal.

I probably look like one.

“Would you be willing to tell me your name?” he asks in a low, soothing tone.

I let out a shaky breath. The adrenaline that’s been driving me slips from my body, leaving me shaking. Have I been this cold the whole time? I quickly tuck the blanket around myself, shivering as I try to warm up.

“Athena,” I say through chattering teeth.

“Goddess of wisdom and warfare,” he murmurs to himself.

I lean into the door, my head on the window. I watch the blur of the scenery go by as we head into town. It doesn’t take long for us to reach a hospital. He parks and turns off the engine.

I don’t know why, but I expected him to take me to the Sheriff’s station, not to the hospital.

“Do you want to walk inside?”

“Yes,” I say.

He nods and gets out. He opens my door slowly.

I stand up and nearly collapse again. My feet hurt like a bitch and my legs are shaking with exhaustion and overuse. He’s parked as close as he could to the front door, the front tires propped up on the curb, like he didn’t want me to have to move more than necessary. Like he understands just how hard this is for me.

He walks with me, keeping an eye, but he doesn’t hover. He doesn’t touch.

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