Page 48 of Pitch Dark

“I wanted to see how you were doing.” I give her the best answer I can.

“But why?” she asks again.

I hold the bags up. “I brought you some things you might need.”

Her eyes drop to the bags dispassionately then she drops her feet to the floor. One side of her gown falls from her shoulder, revealing the top part of her breast. She either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care that she’s damn near baring herself. My guess is the latter since she showed no compunction of showing herself yesterday when she was washing her legs. The actions are strange since she obviously abhors touch.

My jaw clenches when I notice more scars. Whatever bastard did this to her needs to be slaughtered.

I ignore the rage brewing just below the surface and set the bags down on the table beside her. I make sure to keep to the opposite of the table so as not to get too close. She watches me as I start removing items.

“I know how uncomfortable those hospital gowns are, so I figured you might enjoy something else.” I hold the gown up for her inspection. She barely glances at it before her eyes swing back to mine, giving no comment. I set the shampoo, conditioner, and bottle of soap on the table next. “Maybe you’d like to wash and condition your hair?” I suggest. Her fingers go to the long strands and pick up a clump to look at it. “I also brought a brush.” I hold it up for her to see before placing it by the bottles.

“The lady that comes in here says we may have to cut off all my hair,” she says quietly, looking back down at the dirty strands.

I grab the other chair and slide it over to the table then take a seat.

“Do you want to cut it off?”

She looks up. “I don’t know.”

“Maybe once you wash and condition it, you can decide.”

Her eyes go to the nightgown. Lifting her hand hesitantly, she fingers the soft material, a look of wonder taking over her face as if she’s never felt anything so soft before.

“Would you like to put it on?” I ask her, keeping my voice low.

Her eyes dart to mine, and she jerks her hand away as if her touching it is something she shouldn’t do. She looks from me to the nightgown then back at me several times. Each time her eyes land on the green material, a look of longing flashes in them. She tries to hide the desire, but I see it hidden on her face.

After a moment, she gives a small nod. What has anger sprouting its ugly head is the weary way she glances at me when she gives me her silent answer. She’s obviously worried about my reaction to her wanting something so badly.

I pull the gown from the hanger and take off the tags then hand it over to her. Shock has my mouth dropping open like a damn fool as she stands from her chair, reaches back and unties her hospital gown, and proceeds to pull the sleeves down her shoulders, undressing right here in front of me like it’s no big deal.

“Wait,” I say loudly then curse under my breath when she jumps. I clear my throat and lower my voice. “I meant take it in the bathroom and put it on.”

She frowns, not understanding why I’ve put a stop to her undressing in front of me. What in the fuck has happened to this girl for her to think something like that is okay? My stomach spasms, and I have to force back the growl forming in the back of my throat.

I get up from my chair, grab all the toiletries, and take them to the bathroom. Setting them on one of the shelves in the shower, I feel her eyes on me the entire time. I turn back, and sure enough, she’s watching me with a detached expression.

“Why don’t you take a shower, so you’re nice and clean when you put the new gown on?” I recommend.

“I don’t know how to work the shower,” she says in a dull tone.

Her answer surprises me. It’s not like the hospital showers are hard to figure out. It’s a simple system; one that anyone who’s used a shower before could easily figure out.

“Grab your gown, and I’ll show you.”

She picks it up off the table and follows me into the small bathroom. I notice she keeps as far away from me as the walls will allow. With my back to her, I show her how to turn the dials.

When I turn back, I immediately spin back around again and face the shower. She’s standing there completely naked, the hospital gown piled at her feet. My hands fist at my sides because it’s clear wherever she was and whatever’s happened to her, she was taught that showing your body is a normal occurrence.

I step to the side, making sure to keep my head turned away from her, and walk sideways to the door. “I’ll be waiting out here when you’re finished.”

I don’t give her a chance to reply before I’m closing the door behind me. Although it was just a quick glance, my eyes saw something that has my blood boiling and my fists primed and ready to do permanent damage to an unknown person or persons. I’ve seen the scars marring her arms, legs, and the top of her breast, but that’s not where they stop. Every fucking inch of her body is covered in them, some looking older than others. I’ve never seen a body covered in so many damn scars.

Except one. I push my thoughts of Aislin aside. My anger is already mounting to lava levels; I certainly don’t need an extra dose.

I shake my head, clearing my head of the multiple scars covering the woman’s chest and stomach. I leave the room to get some air. I stop by the nurses’ station and ask for their help with her IV and shower, before heading for the cafeteria to grab myself a coffee. I’m sure she’ll be in the shower for a while, so I should be back before she gets out. I order my coffee, and at the last minute, I decide to order one for the woman as well. I also grab a bagel, a single serving of butter and cream cheese, and an orange. She’s so frail looking that she needs to put on a bit of weight.

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