Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 88238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
I have zero appetite, but I force myself to eat half so I can at least get some of my strength back.
Damian doesn’t say anything when I place the leftovers on the bedside table.
I hear him move and glance over my shoulder. He has a small bag with him. When he nears the bed, my body instinctively tenses.
“Let’s make this quick,” Damian murmurs.
I watch as he places the bag on the bed before taking out some antiseptic wipes. When he presses one of the wipes to my cheek, I hiss from the burn and yank my head away.
Destructive emotions rush through me, and I quickly wrap my arms around my waist, hunching my shoulders.
Damian moves slowly as he sits down next to me. It makes my anxiety spike, not liking that he’s so close to me. Then he leans even closer, making it hard for me to breathe as the air evaporates between us.
My breathing speeds up, and I close my eyes, not wanting him to see my panic and fear.
This time his touch is much softer. It still burns like hell, but the gentle way he’s dabbing at my face makes my throat close up.
The minutes creep by, each one intenser than the one before as Damian cleans all my bruises.
When he applies some sort of balm to my bottom lip, it becomes too much. I pull away, scooting back on the bed so I can put some distance between us.
I can’t bring myself to make eye contact as I fight the tears down.
I can feel Damian’s eyes burn over me. “I need to look at your ribs.”
God, no.
Quickly I shake my head, wrapping my arms tighter around myself. “I’m fine.”
“I doubt that,” he murmurs, a compassionate tone lacing the words. My gaze darts to his, and again, I’m hit with the intensity of his ice-blue eyes.
Damian slowly exhales. “Let’s get this over as quick as possible so you can sleep.”
I sit still, my eyes trained on the opposite wall, and then I nod.
When Damian takes hold of the shirt, I shut my eyes tightly, and my heart explodes into a violent pounding. I don’t move a muscle as he tends to the cuts and bruises scattered over my ribs.
“You have a couple of broken ribs. I’ll get an ice pack for you,” he mentions.
I can’t even nod.
When he’s finally done, and he gets up from the bed, I let out a burst of air.
Opening my eyes, I watch as he places the first aid kit on the table.
Keeping his back to me, he murmurs, “Sleep, Cara. You’re safe with me.”
Am I?
Am I really safe with this man?
I stare at him, wishing I could believe his words… but I don’t. I don’t think I’ll ever trust another human ever again.
Lying down on the bed, I curl into a small bundle, and then I pray the numbness of sleep will come quickly.
Chapter 6
CARA
We’ve been at the motel two days when Damian leaves to get food. I climb out of bed and gingerly make my way over to the window. Every movement hurts like hell, but I can’t stay in bed, and I have to get better so I can get out of here. Carefully I nudge the curtain to the side and peek outside.
There’s a parking area with only two cars in it. We’re at a Village Inn. I’ve stayed in one plenty of times, so the experience is nothing new.
I spot Damian as he comes walking around the corner of the diner. He’s carrying a brown paper bag. I stare at him as he comes closer, his steps firm and every movement calculated.
Damian keeps his head down, but I get a feeling he sees everything around him, including me, even though I’m hiding behind the curtain.
Once again, I wonder who this man is. The first day I was terrified out of my mind, but he’s done nothing but help me since he saved me.
My eyes drift over his muscular body.
He could easily kill me. Instead, he takes care of my wounds and feeds me.
Uncle Tom sent him, but still, who is Damian Weston?
Am I really safe with him?
Letting out a sigh, I go to the bathroom, not closing the door all the way. When I’m done relieving myself, I wash my hands, and then my eyes settle on the mirror. It’s out of habit.
Damian told me not to look at myself, so I expected it to look bad, but the thing staring back at me can’t possibly be me.
God.
I lift a trembling hand to my cheek and gently press the pads of my fingers to the ugly burn.
The trauma I suffered rushes to the surface, and it fills my empty gaze with desperation and horror.
“I told you not to look,” Damian snaps, almost giving me a heart attack. I yank my hand away from my face as my body jerks. “Come eat.”