Page 13 of Protector

Grey: 2000

Isank down onto the comforter without loosening my grip while her body continued to shake and tremble. It reminded me of the night she’d shown up toLeather & Lace. I’d shed blood for her then, but it hadn’t been enough to keep her safe.

“N-n-no!” Celia cried out suddenly, her body going rigid with fear. “I’ll b-be quiet.”

“I’m here.” I squeezed her shoulder as her foot came up, weakly kicking at air. Her toes were stained with blood, and I was once again struck with the need to hurt someone until they looked like she did.

“I don’t know where Jamie is,” she moaned.

I pulled her into my chest, and this time, she latched onto my shirt like I was her lifeline. A tear slid down her cheek, and I gently pressed my mouth to it. “I’m here, princess. Ain’t leavin’ you ever again.”

Celia blinked, her pupils still dilated, as she fought to come back from wherever the drugs had taken her. “Jamie?” Her teeth began to chatter, causing the cuts around her mouth to ooze. “I’m s-sorry.”

“Don’t you fuckin’ apologize to me, darlin’. I—”

With a low groan, she leaned forward and looped her arms around my neck. “N-no… all my…”

Instead of finishing her sentence, she tightened her grip, forcing my cheek down against the top of her head. The moan that came out of her was long and low-pitched to the point that it almost didn’t sound human.

“Celia? Baby, what hurts?”

She slumped back in my arms before panting, “Everything.”

Doc had missed something.

I stood up, having decided I’d risk it all to get her help. I’d pay off a goddamn hospital if that was what it took.

“No… please,” she mumbled, prying my hand away from the belt of her robe.

“Gonna get you checked over, princess. You need a doctor.” A real one, I silently added.

She shook her head. “Mmmm… fine.”

“You ain’t fine.”

I watched as her chin slowly dipped down toward her chest, her hold on my neck loosening. Sweat ran down her forehead, triggering the strangest sense of déjà vu; as if I’d been through this before with her.

My right hand grew damp with sweat, and I adjusted her, before moving it up to rest on top of her thigh. As much as I wanted to let her sleep, I had to know how bad it was.

“Please,” she begged, as I pulled at the opening on her robe, her lips connecting with the skin of my throat. “Don’t.”

I stood paralyzed next to our bed, trying to decide the best course of action. Before, I would’ve fought her for control and demanded she listen to me; ultimately doing what I wanted.

But this wasn’t like old times.

We were in uncharted territory.

The fight gone; I lowered her back onto the bed in defeat. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to fix her.

I settled her head against the pillows and reached for the comforter when I realized the palm of my hand was coated in blood, not sweat.

The belt on Celia’s robe had come undone, and with the drugs running through her veins, her reflexes were slow. It took several attempts, but she finally managed to pull it closed again.

More than enough time for me to see what they’d done to her.

My knees buckled beneath me, and I gripped the bedpost to steady myself. Where there weren’t bruises, there were bite marks; from her tits all the way down to her exposed belly. Several were covered in dried blood from where the fuckers’ teeth had broken through her skin.

I clenched my jaw and squeezed the wood until it creaked and groaned beneath my hand. This was more than an interrogation.

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