Page 62 of First Time

I hadn’t fought when he’d ripped my work clothes off of me. Couldn’t focus on his face as he had stretched my arms and legs out, tying me tight to the cross. I’d turned my head as he tried to shove the ball gag between my lips, and he’d clobbered me on the bruised cheek again. Darkness had crept in for a second time.

The first strike of the cane had brought reality back with a mean bite, jerking me in my restraints. I’d shrieked, but his curses, his calling me a whore, overshadowed my voice.

He had lashed out in his raging madness over and over again until I could do nothing more than sag and whimper, my throat raw and aching, tears and snot running with abandon.

Panting, he had taken a break, leaving me in the cold room with the lights off, in and out of consciousness as candlelight flickered in my periphery creating ghosts—demons—where none lurked.

Twice more, he had used the cane on my body until his arms hung at his sides.

I’d gladly given in to the blackness sucking on my soul when it came calling.

Daniel hollering my name had jolted me awake, to an agony-flooded existence. I’d weakly pulled against the ropes digging into my skin and tried to scream, new tears leaking from the corners of my eyes.

My redheaded angel…

“Becky?” His warm breath caressed my lips as it had a dozen times or so.

“Hmm?” I tried to turn toward his warmth, but pain wracked my body. I winced, returning to consciousness sooner than I wished.

“Here.” He lifted my head. “Pills.”

I opened my mouth, and he dropped two tablets in. He held a glass of water to my lips, and I drank deeply, swallowing them down.

A sigh shuddered down through me, and I forced my eyelids up. Sunlight filtered through the blinds of his bedroom windows. “Time?” I rasped, my throat still raw from screaming.

“Six. You’ve been sleeping for fifteen hours. How are you feeling?”

“Sore.” I tried for a smile and tilted my head to meet his gaze for the first time since he’d tumbled down the stairs to rescue me.

A slew of emotions poured from his eyes, and I choked on an unexpected sob.

“Shh.” He lay beside me, soothing a hand over my shoulder.

“H-hold me,” I said, turning into him, uncaring of the pain all down the front of my body and how moving stretched skin wanting to be left alone.

He gently cradled me to him, and I cried against his rock-hard chest, my tears soaking his T-shirt. His hand trailed down my spine, slow circles and gentle kneads into my flesh as I unleashed a torrent of emotions. It seemed hours that I immersed myself in his comfort while emptying my soul to exhaustion. Peace settled in along with clarity. The medication had worn down a bit, leaving me more lucid.

“There’s no better place than in your arms.” I finally broke the quietness of his bedroom.

“You don’t know how happy I am to hear you say that.” His chest rumbled beneath my ear, and even though I ached, warmth grew between my thighs.

I sighed and smiled, breathing in the citrusy scent of his cologne and the male virility clinging to his skin. “You make everything go away,” I whispered. “All of the bad. The ugly, until the only thing I can think about is you.”

“You’re going to swell my head,” he murmured against my hair.

“Which one?”

He chuckled and kissed the top of my head. “Both.”

“If…” My voice trailed off as I considered the question I wanted to ask him. While I’d spoken with the police at the hospital, I hadn’t gone into great detail about everything Stephen had done to me. Shame for allowing myself to be vulnerable to his actions made me want to curl into a ball and disappear.

But Daniel would never judge me. He knew my heart.

“If I tell you every detail so I can unburden my mind, will you become angry?” I finally asked.

“I won’t lie and say no. Even hearing what you shared with the female cop made me want to go find that fucker and bring down justice on his head.”

“I-I need to talk about this, Daniel.”