Page 30 of Bound by Wreckage
“Fuck, I don’t know.”
Leaving the emergency latch on, I crack the door. “Somethin’ you need?”
The man steps back shocked, and the woman’s mouth drops open. “No… sorry, wemust have the wrong room.”
With a nod, I shut the door and lock it. When I look over, the light from the small crack in the window shines on the empty bed. Flipping the light, Carsyn sits curled up on the floor shaking.
Shit.
“It’s okay. Just people who couldn’t find their room.”
She nods, but can’t stop the shakes. Sitting next to her, I wrap her in my arms and holdher. It’s so long that when I wake up, she’s laying in my arms still.
Fuck, it’s going to be hard to go home.
“Hey,” she says, looking up at me and wiping the sleep from her eyes. “Sorry. Must’ve fallen asleep.”
“Perfectly fine, Carsyn. Perfectly fine.”
She gets up and dusts her butt off, from what I have no clue, then moves over to the bags. “I saw coffee and we havea pot, so I’m makin’ it.”
“Sounds good to me.” I get up and go into the bathroom to take a leak.
The coffee waits for me on the table next to the empty seat. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” She holds the cardboard cup with both hands blowing on it carefully.
“How are ya feelin’ today?”
She takes a sip. “Good. My body aches, but that’s going to happen. While I waitedfor the brew, I did some stretches that help.”
“I hate that you have to know that shit.” Just like I fucking hate that my sister lived through this when she was attacked and raped. Same with Green’s woman, Leah, and the fear she must have experienced when being tied to a bed and brutalized. All of it there pressing into me, noting what Carsyn went through and her feeling alone. Fuck.
She shrugs. “Can’t change the past, Nox, only the future.”
“Right. I’m dyin’ to ask about the butterflies on your calf. It’s gorgeous work.”
She beams. “Thanks. It’s one thing that Buck didn’t care if I did or not and, as you can tell, I took advantage.”
“What do the butterflies mean?”
She coughs slightly and pauses, pulling in her bottom lip—thinking. It seemsto be her thinking pose, and it’s cute.
“I have nine of them. One for each year I spent with Buck. Each year, I get a new one on the anniversary of my mother’s death.”
My gut twists. “I’m so sorry, babe.”
Her head shakes. “No, there’s nothing to be sorry for. Each one is a new start. A new beginning. At least that’s the way I look at them. Like a butterfly coming out of itscocoon and spreading its wings for the first time. It represents survival and purity.”
Reaching over I take her hand in mine. “The meaning behind it makes it even more beautiful.” She looks as though she wants to say something else, but refrains. “Tell me.”
“It’s the one thing on my body that I have control over. Buck never had any demands on my ink, therefore it is mine and onlymine.”
A squeeze comes to my chest forming an ache. Control. She’s never had it before. It will be an adjustment for her in a big way.
“Today we’re gonna go meet with one of my buddies. When I have to leave here, you’re going to stay with him and his wife. From there you can figure out what you want to do.”
She nods, complying, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Panic is settingin once again.
