Page 57 of Little Dove

“But I have scars from where Clay and Corey sometimes liked to torture me before they raped me,” she tells me sharply. “I don’t even like to look at them. How can I expect you to accept them when I can’t?”

I still at this new piece of information. Rage fills me. Those sick fucks cut her skin? Dared to torture her that way? I’m going to enjoy their deaths. I don’t care what I have to do to make ithappen, either, or how much money I have to spend. Whoever runs that fucking prison is going to release them to me.

I battle all of that back, though, and force myself to focus on the woman in my lap. “Do you know what I’m going to see,colombina? I’m going to see marks of strength that show what you’ve been through. What you have survived and come out stronger for. I despise what you had to endure to get them, but they don’t define who you are to me. Or to anyone else, for that matter.”

Her eyes are wet as they hold mine, but no tears fall. “I want to believe you,” she whispers. “I really do, Lazaro, but the voices in my head that tell me otherwise aren’t just going to go away.”

“We can silence them eventually,” I assure her confidently. “With time, patience, and communication between us, we can get to where they just disappear.” I’m taking a big risk, but something tells me that this is an important moment. “Will you show me?”

Amara freezes, just goes so utterly still, that I’m almost certain she’s stopped breathing until she whispers, “Show you?”

I nod, watching her carefully, and rubbing at her hip soothingly. “You’ve been told a lot of things in your life,colombina, and promises can be broken, correct? I think it’s time to prove to you that I mean what I say, so you can see it for yourself. You will not see disgust from me,” I vow. “I can promise you that, Amara.”

“Just because you can hide your emotions, doesn’t mean you won’t be disgusted,” she whispers shakily, her body trembling. Then she shocks me by easing back, making me drop my hands, and unbuttoning her pants, shoving them down to reveal thin scars that line her legs where her upper thigh and hip meet. They’re long, every single one of them, and they almost look like stretch marks, except for the jaggedness of them. A few almost look like they tried to create a letter or symbol in some way.

I don’t say anything as I look at them, bringing my hand up and gently tracing them with my fingers. Her entire body shakes, but she doesn’t stop me. I can feel her gaze glued to my face, but I purposely ignore it. Instead, I ask softly, “Did they only do this on this one side?”

“No.” She twists, and I see that her other side is covered in the same. “They didn’t want me to have scars anywhere that could easily be seen if I wore shorts or a shorter skirt. I wasn’t allowed to swim, so they didn’t worry about that.”

“They only did it in these two spots?” She nods, but her face is full of shame. I cup her cheeks gently in my hands and stare into her eyes. “Do you see disgust on my face, Amara?” I ask her gently.

“You could be hiding it.”

“I’m not, I promise you. I’ll tell you what I feel. Anger that they dared to do this to you, to carve into your body for their own sick pleasure. But I also feel such awe that you have gone through something so vile and come out the other side,dolcezza. You have no idea how strong I think you are.”

A tear slips from her eye as she looks at me, face still pale. “You don’t think they’re ugly?”

“No. There is not a single part of you that I would ever consider ugly, Amara Stanley. I think you are incredibly beautiful, and I want to explore every inch of you and make you feel and see that for yourself. I want to be the one to banish such thoughts from your mind. I want you to see me, and see the man that thinks you are so beautiful that you believe it. When you see me, I want you to know that you are the only one that I will ever want for myself.”

More tears flow. “You have no idea how much I want to believe you. If anyone can make me feel even a sliver of that, it’s you, Lazaro.”

“All I’m asking for is a chance,colombina. Just a chance. And when I’m being an overbearing asshole, you’ll tell me and I will fix it. Can we do that?”

She doesn’t answer right away, but I can see her internal battle on her face, instinct and desire both making their demands. I don’t push, don’t utter a single sound, I simply watch her, dropping my hands to settle on her hips again, gently rubbing along her skin, including the scars. I want to offer to find someone to help her with them, but she might take that the wrong way, so I keep my mouth shut. If and when she’s ready for that, we’ll face it together.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, she gives a small nod. “I’ll try, Lazaro, but I hope to hell you know what you’re getting into.”

A primal satisfaction fills me, so deep that I can feel it in my very bones. Now I have to keep from screwing it up.

19

AMARA

I probably shouldn’t besurprised, but I am, that instead of Lazaro taking my statement as an invitation to immediately drag me off to bed, he simply gives me a quick kiss, helps me right my pants, and tells me he’s going to draw me a bath. I stare after him in shock, unsure of what the hell to do now.

I feel wrung out after that intense discussion, but I also feel strangely lighter. Like I’ve finally gotten enough off my chest that I can take a big deep breath. It’s a strange sensation. I’m too nervous to stand here and wait, though, so I pick up the bag that Lazaro tossed aside and carry it back into the closet. I can hear the water running and smell something flowery, but I ignore it. I set the bag on the ottoman and start pulling everything out and putting it away.

If shit goes south, I can always pack up again. Or so I’m telling myself. I might be making a huge mistake, but time will tell. I made the decision, and now I’m sticking with it.

I’ll just keep my scissors, clippers, and some funky hair-dye ready for if he fucks up and hurts me in any way.

By the time I finish putting everything back, Lazaro enters and gives me a warm smile. A frisson of pleasure slips down my spine at seeing him look at me that way. Is it always going to be like this? I kind of hope so. I don’t even fight when he scoops me up into his arms, bridal style, and carries me back into the steamy, dimly lit bathroom. “I hope it’s not too hot,” he says as he carries me over to the tub. Bubbles are foaming, and candles line the window’s edge. It’s romantic, and a part of me melts. He sets me on my feet and instructs, “Stick your hand in and check. I don’t want to burn your skin.”

I do as requested, loving the heat instantly. “It’s perfect,” I tell him with a smile. “Thank you.”

“Always,colombina. I want you to get in and relax, and when you’re finished, I want us to try a few things, alright?” Panic grips me, but he quickly adds, “Do not worry,dolcezza, I won’t push you into anything I don’t think you can handle. We’ll start off slow and easy, just like we agreed. I simply want you to get used to me touching you and making you feel good. We’ll go no further than you’re ready for, I promise.” I nod hesitantly, still not sure, but I said I’d try, so that’s what I’ll do. “Good girl,” he praises softly, leaning down to press a kiss to my forehead. “Now get in the bath and don’t worry about a thing.”

At his praise, that same feeling fills me the way it did when we were in the bunker. Heat and pleasure. Oh boy, I’m in trouble if that’s all it takes for me to give in. I hurriedly undress, tie up my hair, and climb into the bath, hissing slightly at the heat but then moaning as I sink in and it envelops me. Oh yes, I can definitely get used to this. The bubbles tickle my chin and I giggle. This tub is built for someone that’s taller than me, but I’m not complaining. It’s delicious.

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