Page 17 of Forty Days and One Knight
A violent nod of her head morphed into a shake.
“Do you remember what happened?”
Her only response was to cry harder. Each tear that raced down her cheek carved another bit of regret into his soul. Although, by the time he’d found out Secada had taken her, it had already been too late, Darius still felt as if he’d failed her. He’d sworn to protect her and fell short of his goal, something he’d never forgive himself for.
Slowly reaching out, he gently brushed her hair back over her left shoulder. “Tahira, I know there’s nothing I can do to change what happened. I just want to comfort you, if you’ll let me. May I hold you? Can I help you stand so you can pull up your pants? I won’t look. I just want to help.”
She grasped his arm as if it were a lifeline to keep her from drowning in despair. Sobbing, she used her other hand to wipe her nose. When he was certain she was ready, Darius stood and slowly helped her up. Her body trembled as he held her shoulders in support while she pulled the sweatpants back over her slender hips. As soon as she was decent, she leaned into him, threw her arms around his neck, and bawled.
Not knowing what else he could do, Darius tucked his arm under her knees and picked her up. She clung to him as he carried her back to their makeshift bed. Using the wall for support, he lowered himself to the tarp, settling her onto his lap and holding her close. “Shh. You’re safe, Princess, and that bastard will never hurt you or anyone else ever again. Shh.”
Pulling back just far enough to lift her gaze to his face, she stared at him in horror. “Y-You kn-know what ... what ...” While searching for whatever words she was looking for, she hiccuped.
God, he hated this. Unwelcome tears pooled in his own eyes as his heart broke for her. His throat grew thick, and he had to force his words past it. “I was too late. I’m so sorry ...” She wasn’t the only one trying to find the right thing to say. “I—”
“You saw—”
He shook his head, not knowing exactly what she was referring to—it could be either the rape itself or her nude body. Compassionately, he answered for both. “It was over before I got there. I covered you and then grabbed these clothes, so I could get you out of there. I had to hurry. I’m sorry I didn’t have time to clean you up.” Yeah, he was leaving out a lot of information there, but there was stuff she didn’t need to know just yet. Later, after she calmed down, if she wanted more details, he’d tell her as best he could with as little gore as possible.
“Oh, my God! It is true. He—he r-raped me, right? The—the blood?” Before he could answer, she threw her head back and wailed, balling up the front of his shirt with her fists. “Please tell me it is not true! Darius, please!”
Her begging twisted his gut into knots. As much as he wished he could say it never happened, he couldn’t lie to her. His hand ran up and down her back, trying to soothe her. “I’m sorry, Tahira. I’m so sorry. But it’s over. When we get you back to the States, we’ll take you to the hospital to get checked out and—”
“No! You do not understand!” She pushed against his chest—not to get away from him but to emphasize her words. “My life is over—”
“It’s not—”
“It is! I—I can never marry now.” Letting go of his shirt, she buried her face in her hands and cried harder. “I can never marry!”
Confusion washed over him as her words tumbled through his mind. Why would she think she could never get married? He’d never known anyone who’d been raped—at least, to his knowledge—and wasn’t certain if this was a normal reaction so soon after the assault. Pain, grief, disbelief, anger, embarrassment—those emotions he’d expected. But why it would affect her ability to marry was lost on him. “Yes, you can—”
“No!” Dropping her hands to her lap, she took a deep, ragged breath before continuing. “You do not understand our culture, Darius. I will no longer be a—a v-virgin on my wedding night. In—in my country, women can be publicly ostracized by their husbands if they are not pure on their wedding night. I will bring shame to—to my family. To my crown. I will be shunned by our people.”
He was dumbfounded. How could someone blame her, or anyone else for that matter, for being raped? Darius would never understand that whole “she asked for it because of the way she was dressed” or similar bullshit explanation. And any man who was lucky enough to win Tahira’s heart would be nothing but a fucking bastard if he announced to the world she wasn’t a virgin on their wedding night. “But it wasn’t your fault, Tahira.”
“It does not matter, Darius. To many, it will not matter if it was my fault or not. I will be shamed either way.”
Resting her forehead on his shoulder, she sobbed. His T-shirt absorbed her hot tears, which scorched his skin. Darius tightened his arm around her waist and just held her, unable to find any other words to console her. Somehow, after ten or fifteen minutes had passed, she’d cried herself to sleep—although the adrenaline crash and the drugs still in her system had probably helped. Darius left her on his lap until pins and needles ran down his legs. Moving slowly, he lowered her to the tarp and tucked his parka under her head again. He covered her with her jacket before stretching out behind her and pulling the blanket over both of them. Spooning her, he gave her what little comfort and warmth he could. He just wished there was something else he could do to help ease her pain.
16
“Tahira? Princess, I need you to wake up. The worst of the storm has passed. We need to get moving.”
She fought to remain sleeping, unwilling to face her new reality, but Darius insisted she awaken. He gently shook her shoulder. “Tahira? I’ll carry you, if necessary, but I’d rather have both hands free if we run into trouble.”
Trouble. Her entire life was in trouble now. How could she return to Timasur and let her father choose her husband? She wouldn’t even be able to choose a man to marry, knowing full well the union would crumble mere hours after the ceremony. And she couldn’t confess to her parentswhyshe couldn’t marry. They’d be devastated. They were undoubtedly worried sick since learning she’d been kidnapped. Maybe Amar or Ian had already contacted her parents to let them know she was alive and no longer in the hands of her captors.
“Princess?” It was apparent from his tone he knew she’d heard him.
Sighing, she rolled onto her back but kept her eyes shut. “I am awake. There is no need to carry me, Darius.”
“How are you feeling? Physically, I mean.”
Because after her breakdown earlier, it was clear she wasn’t faring well emotionally and wouldn’t be for a long time. In fact, she was surprised she’d slept at all without any nightmares. Somehow, she’d found comfort and safety in Darius’s arms. While she expected to feel embarrassed after having told him about her rape and loss of virginity, she didn’t. While he was protecting and comforting her, he wasn’t treating her like a helpless waif. Since the night she’d asked him to call her by her first name, she felt as if he’d been seeing her in a different light. She felt like they were equal. It was similar to what she experienced in Ian and Angie’s presence. While they had to defer to her royal status in public, in private, she was on par with their friends and family members, and it was a feeling she enjoyed.
Tahira blinked until his face came into focus. He was kneeling next to her, concern filling his eyes. She swallowed and tried to keep from crying again. “I am sore all over, but I will be able to walk.”
Nodding, Darius held out his hand. “That’s my girl. You’re tough, and you’ll get through this, but first let’s get the hell out of Argentina, hmm?”
