Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 38835 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 129(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38835 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 129(@300wpm)
“I handled it,” I growled.
His pale green eyes roved over my bloody face, and he nodded his approval. He opened the SUV door and gestured for me to get Evelyn inside the armored vehicle.
We rode to the safety of his mansion in awful silence. Evelyn didn’t sob or scream. She was utterly still in my arms, her eyes closed. I would’ve worried that she was gravely injured, but her shallow breaths came in a quick but steady rhythm. She wouldn’t look at me, and I didn’t command her to. I couldn’t bear to see the horror in her eyes again.
Fear of me.
We arrived at the mansion, and I carried her straight to the bedroom, passing the diamond necklace where it’d been discarded on the floor. My stomach knotted. She must’ve taken it off. She’d run away as soon as I’d left her alone. I’d trapped her in my dangerous world and dragged her to Colombia against her will.
She’d tried to escape from me, to get back home to America. And she’d been assaulted without me to guard her in this lawless place.
This was all my fault.
But I couldn’t let her go. I couldn’t.
I pulled her tighter to my chest, caging her in my arms. I would fix this. I would fix her.
She looked shattered: my broken little butterfly.
I carried her into the bathroom and turned on the shower. A cascade of water sprayed from multiple directions, and it warmed almost immediately.
Not bothering to strip off our clothes, I toed off my shoes and stepped into the massive shower stall with her in my arms. The water immediately ran red, and I was grateful her eyes were closed so that she didn’t have to see it.
I waited until the worst of the gore had been washed from my skin. I wouldn’t start to take off our clothes until she was calmer; stripping her naked in the aftermath of what she’d suffered was the last thing she needed.
She still clung to her ruined dress, her fingers locked in the soaked black silk.
I sank to my knees and set her down so that she was sitting with her back against the tiled wall. Her eyes remained closed as I quickly stripped off my sodden shirt. No amount of soapy water would get the bloodstains out of the white material. She didn’t need to see that.
The blood splatter no longer marred her pale complexion. It hadn’t been her blood.
She began to shiver despite the heat of the water, her body quaking violently as her teeth chattered.
I pulled her tightly against me and pressed my palm over her racing heart, calming her before she could go into shock.
“Breathe, Evelyn.”
My sweet girl had never disobeyed a direct order. She heaved in a shuddering breath, her chest convulsing with the effort.
“Good girl. Keep breathing.”
I breathed with her, forcing my own chest to rise and fall in a steady rhythm. After a few minutes, her breaths slowed to match mine, and hear heartbeat resumed a normal pace beneath my hand.
She drew in one more deep breath, then released it on a harsh sob. A keening sound like a wounded animal echoed off the tiles, the most horrific thing I’d ever heard. My shredded heart twisted violently, as though the ruined organ would tear asunder. I could endure physical pain, but her distress was agony. An awful sense of helplessness robbed all the strength from my muscles. I’d never felt so weak and useless, not even as a boy when I’d been scrawny and sheltered.
I rocked her gently, a stream of soothing words dropping from my lips in my native tongue. I didn’t know what I was saying, but the cadence seemed to slowly soothe her.
She trembled in my arms, but her sobs quieted.
“You’re safe,” I murmured, stroking her wet blonde hair back from her chilled cheek. Despite the heat of the shower, she was still cold and pale. “No one will hurt you.”
Finally, her eyes fluttered open. They were dark with pain and lingering fear.
I cupped her nape, holding her close. “Don’t be afraid.” It was meant to be a reassurance, but the words came out as a rough plea.
“You…” her chest convulsed. She breathed and tried again. “I can’t…”
Tears spilled down her cheeks, mingling with the water.
I shushed her again, and she went still and quiet. But she wasn’t soothed. Her eyes were dull, detached.
My stomach lurched, nausea rolling through me. This was all wrong. She was supposed to look at me like I was her salvation. Like I was her everything.
But she just looked…broken.
“I need to make sure you’re not injured,” I said, keeping my cadence slow so that I wouldn’t spook her.
I covered her tight fists with my hands and encouraged her fingers to unfurl. She didn’t resist as I carefully peeled the ruined dress off her to check her over. A shadow of my murderous rage tightened my jaw when I took in the bruises forming on her arms, but I forced myself to remain calm. Any show of anger or aggression might terrify her. As it was, her disassociation was terrible enough.