When Garrett did, what he did to me when I was still a little girl, it broke something inside me that I spent years trying to fix.
But this time… Well, this time, he shattered me into tiny pieces. Some of those fragments are still lying on the cold cement floor of the basement he held me in. I’ll never get them back. How I am now is a million lightyears away from the girl I wanted to be, but I’m alive, and right now, that has to count for something.
I watch Diesel as he steps back and slides his cut from his shoulders, hanging it on one of the metal hooks behind the door. His long-sleeved T-shirt is next, followed by his boots, then his jeans. He tosses all those in the corner, not showing them the same reverence he did his cut.
I stare at his sculpted body and know if I were another girl, in another life, one who wasn’t battered and broken, I would be holding myself back from licking over the ridges of his defined abs and the v that dips into his black boxers, but right now I just feel hollowed out.
He steps closer and reaches behind me to the string at the back of my neck and gives it a gentle tug. When it loosens, he slides his hands gently down my back and pulls the next tie until the gown separates, and he can carefully pull it free. I don't try to hide my modesty, there is no point. Oddly enough, even though I’m naked in his presence, I don’t feel afraid. I don’t know if being naked for a year has desensitized me to it all or if my subconscious knows this man won't hurt me.
“You okay?” he asks quietly, keeping his eyes on mine. His gaze never once drifts lower.
“Yes,” I answer.
It’s just one word of consent, but it's enough. He scoops me up, trusting that I'll tell him if it's too much, and climbs into the shower with me still in his arms.
I’m rigid in his hold, unsure how I’m supposed to feel. I expect him to lower me to my feet, offering me support in case I fall, but he just stands there, holding me as the warm spray beats down over us until eventually, I find myself relaxing.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I tuck my head against his warm skin and breathe him in. He smells of rain, and oil, and safety all rolled into one.
When he does lower me to the ground, I find myself reluctant to let go, but I remind myself that he isn’t my man. He’s just helping me, the poor hapless girl who always finds herself cast in the role of victim, no matter how many times I try to reinvent myself.
“Lean against me, Ava, and let me take your weight. If it gets too much, you let me know, all right?”
I nod and do just as he says, leaning back against him, his large frame supporting my slender one with ease.
He reaches over me and grabs the small bottle of shower gel, a cheap generic brand the hospital must supply, and pours some onto his large hands and rubs them together until the soap bubbles up.
“Ready?” he asks, holding his hands out so I know what he’s referring to.
I suck in a sharp breath and nod.
Slowly, his calloused hands glide up my arms and over my shoulders, his touch soft and nurturing, making tears prick my eyes. When was the last time someone touched me with kind hands, hands that won’t restrain me or slap me or choke me out?
The answer is too long. I’ve forgotten what it feels like.
He spends his time cleaning me before pausing for a moment.
“Ava, you still doing okay?” he asks, and I know he’s seeking permission to either stop or continue on.
I’m relaxed enough to let him continue, comfortable enough with him to know he’ll stop if I tell him to. He’s taking care of me simply because I can't take care of myself.
Ever so slowly, he cups my breasts and covers them with suds, but he doesn’t linger, sliding his hands down my belly, I part my legs a little, and he washes me quickly before nudging me back under the spray again.
“Are you strong enough to stand a little longer so I can do your hair?” he asks, his voice rumbling over my skin as he places a soft, reassuring kiss against my shoulder.
“Yes, please,” I beg, barely holding back a sob at the thought of finally getting to wash it.
He snags the shampoo, pours some into his hand, and massages it into my hair, scratching his nails against my scalp, making me moan in pleasure. He pauses for a second before stepping back a little, but I wobble without his support. He curses and steadies me.
“Erm…just ignore it and maybe don’t make that noise again,” he murmurs.
It's about then I realize I can feel his dick pressed against my ass, making me freeze solid.
“I swear, Ava, I will not touch you like that, but I’m only human, and you're gorgeous, naked, and making those sounds. I can’t stop it,” he admits sheepishly.
“You think I’m gorgeous?” I ask, surprised.
His hands stop in my hair before he lowers them to my hips and carefully turns me around to face him.
I stare up into his deep blue eyes and easily read the sincerity on his face.
“Ava, you’re beautiful, darlin’, and one day I’m going to make sure you see that for yourself. But first, let's just get you through today.”
I smile. It's small, but it's real, and the smile he offers me in return makes me feel like maybe, just maybe, there might be a light in my never-ending world of darkness.
Chapter Five
Lucky
The door to the bathroom opens a second before Diesel strolls out with a towel around his waist, carrying Ava in his arms. She too is wrapped up in a towel, her skin so damn pale now I can see what was hidden beneath the layer of grime.
“Rebel not back yet?” he calls out as he lowers her to the bed.
I’m just about to answer when the door opens behind me. I turn, expecting to see the man in question but find a middle-aged doctor in a white coat instead. He stumbles for a moment when he sees me barring his way before sneering when he catches sight of my cut.
“Excuse me, please. I’d like to see my patient. You can wait in the corridor,” he comments dismissively, making me wonder if the guy would like me to remove his teeth for him.
“I’m not going anywhere unless Ava asks me to leave,” I inform him, my voice ice cold as I turn back to the bed to face Ava.
“The doc is here to see you. Are you up for it?”
She nods warily, even though I can see she’d rather say no. I watch her, sensing her discomfort. She was fine when it was just Diesel and me, so it makes me wonder why she’s so trepidatious around the doctor.
“You want me to leave?” I question just to make sure.
“No!” she practically yells before flushing red.
I grin at her. She’s fucking cute when she’s flustered.
“Then I’ll stay right here,” I reply, feeling like a king when her shoulders relax.
They soon tense up again when I make space for the doctor to step around me.
He takes one look at Diesel clad in only a towel before frowning. “This hospital is not the place for any of your shenanigans. I don't know what you’re used to, but this behavior is not acceptable here,” the snooty bastard complains.
“Calm down, doc. I was just helping Ava take a shower,” Diesel snarls, moving toward the bathroom where his clothes still are.
“We have nurses for that, thank you,” the doctor retorts before turning to Ava. “I assume now there’s no need to do a sexual assault kit. Any evidence will have either been washed away or will be contaminated,” he snaps, glaring from her to Diesel, the implication clear.