Page 17 of Retribution
“Rest for a bit. I will return soon.” He exited her cell and made haste for the medical bay, his mind whirling with confusion and guilt.
* * *
Trembles besieged her body.Layla couldn’t seem to stop shaking or crying. She wasn’t sobbing anymore, but the tears now trickled silently down her face. Her back stung and if she had more strength, she would go to the bathroom and check the damage in the mirror.
She inhaled a deep breath. Then another one. And another, until the terror of what had just happened to her began to fade. It was a gradual process, but eventually her tears dried up and her shaking lessened somewhat.
General Zamek’s masculine scent surrounded her. She shouldn’t like the way he smelled, but damn it to hell she did.
She ought to toss his shirt to the floor and put her pants and undergarments back on, but his shirt was warm and she felt oddly protected while covered with it. If that wasn’t fucked up, she didn’t know what was.
So she remained on the bed, with his thick black uniform shirt sheltering her from the cold and concealing her nudity.
Confusion swept through her when she replayed what had happened. Why had the general stopped strapping her so soon? She’d expected to be beaten to within an inch of her life. It had hurt—badly—enough to bring her to tears, but she’d expected much worse.
And she certainly hadn’t expected him to help her into bed and cover her with his own shirt.
Did he feel guilty? Had any of her pleas gotten through to him? Talking about Shessema and how she might view his actions had been a grave risk, but maybe it had worked.
But she was still in this cell. She was still his prisoner, and they were bound for planet Kall. The chances of her seeing Earth again were slim.
I’m so alone.
This thought kept repeating in her mind. Everyone she’d ever cared about was either dead or so far out of reach they might as well be gone too. It was a frightening realization—knowing she would never see anyone from her old life again. Not even Betsy. Even though they were headed for Sumlin District where Betsy lived with Commander Edek, she doubted she would have the freedom to visit her friend. Not that she would survive long enough to reach planet Kall…
She shifted on the bed and winced at the pain. When she closed her eyes, she could hear the swish of the strap cutting through the air, then the crack of the leather hitting her back.
It’s over. For now.
Footsteps in the corridor made her tense.
She looked up just as General Zamek returned to her cell.
He was still shirtless, and numerous scars crossed his red, muscular chest, evidence of the many battles he’d fought and won. She quickly averted her gaze.
A second later, she noticed the items in his hands and her eyes widened. He was holding a thick blanket, a pillow, and what appeared to be a dermal regenerator.
Were these items really for her use?
Hope flared inside her. If he intended to make her more comfortable, even going so far as to heal her welts, he must feel remorse over his actions. She dared a look into his dark gaze. She glimpsed no traces of anger, and the hope brimming in her chest swelled further.
He placed the pillow next to her head and she gratefully accepted it.
“Th-thank you, General.”
Not removing his shirt from her body, he unfurled the blanket and placed it over her, even going so far as to tuck it around her. So stunned was she by his actions, that for several long moments she forgot to breathe. She desperately wished to ask about his intentions, but she was too nervous to speak.
He sat on the edge of the bed and his nearness caused her tummy to flutter. She was still afraid of him, very much so, but she didn’t think he would hurt her right now. She swallowed hard and dared another look into his otherworldly eyes.
Regret. His gaze shone with unmistakable regret.
She almost gasped in surprise. Hope continued to burgeon within her. Apparently, the general had a conscience. He hadn’t apologized to her, and she doubted he would—Kall males were extremely stubborn and proud—but the warm blanket and the soft pillow felt like an apology of sorts. When he lifted the dermal regenerator for her inspection, that felt like an apology too.
“With your permission, Layla, I would like to run this over your back. It will heal the marks and take away your pain almost instantly.”
She inhaled a shuddering breath. “Wh-why?” she asked. “Why would you help me?”
He opened his mouth to reply but then quickly pressed his lips together. A look of uncertainty fell over him, his eyes clouding with confusion as he briefly glanced around her cell. Finally, his gaze drifted back to her.
