My eyes flew open, and I was momentarily confused. I was under the blankets, tucked in like a child, warm and safe. I had no recollection of getting there. Startled, I realized someone was gently shaking my shoulder to wake me up. I met the friendly gaze of the woman who had examined me when Marcus brought me here—wherever “here” was.
“Um, hi,” I rasped.
“Hello. Do you remember me?”
“Sofia?”
She smiled. “Yes. I wanted to check you over, see how you were doing.” She indicated a bag on the chair beside the bed where Marcus had slept. “Also, I brought you a few things. Some clothes and toiletries. I’m pretty sure Marcus doesn’t have much girl stuff around.”
I sat up carefully, still aching and sore. “Is that because Marcus doesn’t have many girls here or…”
I had no idea why I asked that question, but now that it was out there, I wanted to know the answer.
Sofia shook her head. “I’ve never known Marcus to have anyone here, much less a girl.”
“Ah.”
“Let me look you over, and you can get into something other than his shirt if you like.”
I didn’t mind wearing his shirt. It was soft and comfortable, and it smelled like him. But I nodded and agreed.
Ten minutes later, Sofia was finished. “Your bruises look better, but you need to heal more. You’re still dehydrated. Have you eaten?”
“No, I think I’ve slept. How long have I been here?”
“About thirty-six hours. You need to eat. And I want you to drink lots. As much as you can manage.”
“Okay.”
She handed me the bag. “Go shower, and I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
At my blank look, she smiled. “It’s just down the hall. The place is pretty open.”
“All right.”
Once again, the shower felt amazing. My head was clearer, and I was able to clean myself thoroughly, scrubbing my skin and washing my hair twice. I had been too exhausted to do much except the barest of efforts the first time Marcus set me in the shower. Sofia had brought me shampoo and conditioner as well as a comb—it took a while to get out all the tangles and snarls. I looked in the mirror, shocked at what I saw. I barely looked like myself. I was thin and drawn, my body a mass of bruises and marks. I had to grip the edge of the counter when a whimper left my mouth as memories flooded my head. The tight ropes around my wrists and ankles. The feel of the rigid collar they had wrapped around my neck that choked me if I moved too much. The terrible darkness that surrounded me. The cold that seeped into my bones, making me shiver so hard I ached from it. The knowledge that I would probably die in that cage, alone, cold, and terrified.
Useless. I hated feeling useless.
I shook my head, meeting my green gaze in the mirror. I was safe now. Marcus had repeated that over and over. He had been nothing but kind. Sofia, as well.
Given what had transpired, I was shocked I could believe him, but I did.
I gathered the strength I had left and dried off, dressing in the clothes Sofia had brought me. Simple yoga pants and a light, warm sweater covered most of me. Thick socks felt good on my feet. I left my hair to dry and, with a deep breath, opened the door. I shuffled down a short hall and peered around the corner.
A huge room was ahead of me. Towering ceilings, skylights, and windows filled it with light. Old, thick planks covered the floors, exposed brick made the place rustic and warm. To the right was a living area with sofas and chairs arranged in an orderly fashion. An open kitchen separated by a long counter was on the far wall. There was a table and chairs, and around it were Sofia, Marcus, and a man I thought I recognized. They were all talking, their voices low and serious.
I took a moment to study Marcus. He sat at the head of the table. He was the largest of the group, his impressive size dwarfing the others. His dark hair gleamed under the lights, and the shirt he wore stretched over his broad shoulders. His jawline was clean, his profile chiseled and masculine. He held a cup of coffee in one hand and gestured with his other as he spoke. He stopped mid-sentence when he noticed me, his deep brown stare meeting mine. For a moment, he said nothing, simply looking at me, then he set down his coffee and stood, saying something to the others. Sofia glanced over her shoulder and offered me a smile, then she and the other man stood and left. Marcus approached me, stopping a few feet away.
“You’re awake and walking. Both good signs.” A grin broke out on his face. “And no gun. Another improvement.”
“Your damn drawer was locked.”
He chuckled. “Come on, sweetheart. Sofia says you need to eat, and I have food for you.”
“Why do you keep calling me sweetheart?”
“I don’t know your name. Sweetheart seems nicer than hey, you.”
“Melissa. My name is Melissa Evans.”
“Well, Melissa Evans, I need you to come and eat. Doctor’s orders.”
I followed him, sitting at the table as he went to the kitchen. When he lifted the lid on a pot, the scent of tomatoes, garlic, and spices filled the air. My stomach growled so loud, even he heard it. He filled a bowl and slid it in front of me.
“Slowly. I know you’re hungry, but you need to eat slowly or it won’t stay in.”
I nodded, reaching for the spoon he handed me. I dipped it in the thick broth and brought it to my mouth, groaning at the taste. It was all I could do not to toss the spoon to the side, simply pick up the bowl, bring it to my mouth, and gulp it down. But I knew he was right and I would throw it up just as quickly. I chewed slowly, swallowing the delicious food.
“What is this?”
“Pasta e fagioli soup.”
“It’s so good.”
He set a glass of water and a jug on the table, then slid a plate of bread in front of me. He carried his own bowl to the table and sat down, lifting his spoon.
“I’m glad you like it. I’m a little surprised you didn’t make me taste it first.”
I paused, and he pushed the bowl toward me. “I’m teasing. It’s fine. Eat.”
I ate and drank steadily. He refilled my water glass, gave me a second bowl of the thick soup, smiling in approval when I finished it as well. He didn’t try to make small talk, which I was grateful for. I preferred the silence right now.
“Good. Sofia will be pleased. She wasn’t happy you hadn’t eaten, but I told her I could barely get you to wake up to take meds and sip water.”
“Did you stay in that chair the whole time?”
He shrugged, finishing his bowl and setting it aside. “Most of it. I had to check on my men and do a few things. I never left you alone long.”
My throat felt thick. “That was very kind.”
He pursed his lips, resting his elbows on the table. I tried not to notice how muscular his forearms looked. Strong and capable—like the rest of him.
“Kind? No. I think you went through hell, sweetheart. You seemed to rest better when I was close. I wanted you to sleep so you could recover. Simple.”
I frowned. “Missy.”
“What?”
“You called me sweetheart again. If Melissa is too big a name to remember, my friends used to call me Missy. Maybe that would be easier for you to recall.”
He blinked then threw back his head in laughter. “Okay, Missy, it is. Have you had enough?”