Page 20 of Protector

“Okay.” She led me toward the bathroom. “Let me just see if one of the guys can reheat it while I help you bathe.”

“No,” I snapped. “I just—I just need a minute alone, okay? You take care of the soup, and I’ll be out in a minute.”

I had no intention of eating a bite but was willing to say anything just to buy a moment’s peace. I pushed the bathroom door closed and briefly let the back of my head rest against the wood before turning the lock.

The drawstring on my sweatpants had become knotted, and it took several tries before I managed to get it undone. I kept my focus on the ceiling, ignoring the tremors in my hands and the pain in my ribs as I pulled Jamie’s old sweatshirt over my head.

Once my breathing returned to normal, I padded over to the shower and turned the handle all the way to the left. The old pipes hummed to life, and I leaned against the bathroom counter with a sigh. At some point, the mirror had been replaced. It didn’t matter that all traces of blood and glass were gone, I still saw the destruction in my reflection.

The cuts had scabbed over, and the bruises had faded from a vivid dark purple to a subtle yellow, but not every wound would heal. After eyeing the door again, I slowly turned back to the mirror and gently peeled back the bandage on my hip.

At first, I’d been confused by the strange markings. It wasn’t until I looked at it in the mirror and was greeted by the sight of the diamond thirteen that I realized what had happened.

I’d been branded.

Just like the Ancient Romans had signified ownership over their slaves, I was left with a permanent reminder of what I was.

A victim.

The steam billowed out of the shower, fogging the mirror to the point that I almost believed I looked normal again. I stepped under the showerhead, hissing as it rained lava down over my skin.

“Cry,” I commanded, moving the soapy loofah over my delicate skin. Each rough scrape sent pain reverberating down into my toes, but my eyes remained dry.

With a wince, I spread my legs and forced myself to watch as I dragged the sponge through my folds. “Cry,” I growled, even blinking for good measure. “Just cry.”

My heart raced as the sensation brought violent memories to the surface, and the edges of my vision swam in black. The bleeding may have stopped two days ago, but I still saw the stream running down the inside of my thighs. I could still feel the twisting knife of pain from a body that had failed to protect even the most innocent.

The sponge slipped from my hands as I dropped to my knees on the floor of the shower. “Cry, goddammit!”

What was wrong with me?

“Celia?” Lucy tapped at the door. “Are you okay?”

I reached up and shut the water off with a soft groan. “I’m fine. Getting out now.”

I adored Lucy, but her constant hovering was suffocating me. It didn’t matter how much I protested, or how many times I insisted that I was okay on my own, she refused to leave.

I just wanted to get lost in my thoughts for a while; to sort out my feelings until I figured out why I hadn’t shed one tear since the night they took everything from me.

What I didn’t need was to be told when to eat or drink as if I was a child. I craved the ability to use the bathroom or shower without her pacing outside the door.

I towel dried my hair and pulled it up into a bun before slipping back into Jamie’s shirt and my sweatpants. Lucy jumped up from the bed when I opened the door.

“I picked out a dress for you. Thought you might like to put it on and go sit out back for a little while. The sun feels really nice right now… it’s hard to believe it’s December.” She rambled, wringing her hands together.

The dress was one Jamie had bought for me not long after Kate was born. He’d been in Black Hawk for a rally and saw it in a store window.

I stared down at it, waiting for the rust-colored material to dredge up what I’d been unable to in the shower.

Nothing.

I was completely and utterly broken.

“I’m feeling a little dizzy,” I lied. “I need to just sit for a second.”

Lucy sprang into action, leading me over to my side of the bed and fussing with the pillows surrounding me. “I had Angel reheat your soup. Let me just grab it—”

I pulled the comforter up over my head. “I’m good, Luce. Just gonna sleep it off.”

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