Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 422(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 422(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
But I didn’t that night. I was awake for hours when a silhouette finally appeared in the doorway, and I almost cried out in relief.
Carter came and took my hand. He led us to our room.
When we got there, he let go, but I took his hand again and led him into the bathroom. His face had been battered from the beatings. There was dried blood over him, in his hair as well, and he stood there watching as I inspected every wound. He winced as I probed his ribs, so instead of having him lift his shirt over, I took a firm hold at the top and ripped it. It fell to the floor. My eyes took it all in. His chest and ribs had taken the brunt of the kicks, at least the ones I saw. The tips of my fingers softly grazed over him, and he hissed from the pain.
My eyes caught his. I saw the pain and took a deep breath. Strength surged inside of me. He needed mine so I pointed to the counter and murmured, “Sit.” My voice came out hoarse, and I bit down on my lip. Pain sliced me when he made a motion to vomit. When he didn’t, I let out the breath I’d been holding and warmed some washcloths.
Pressing it to the cut on his nose, the washcloth immediately turned red from the blood. He hissed some more when I continued to his swollen cheek, then his swollen eye.
“You should see a doctor.”
He nodded, closing his one eye. Slowly, he leaned forward and rested his forehead on my shoulder. His lips moved against my skin as he answered, “I had to see you first.”
My hand lifted to cradle the back of his head. I drew another deep breath in and rested my head against his. My eyes closed. I felt his pain and I hated it. He shouldn’t have been hurting, but I knew he put himself in that situation for a reason. So many questions flew in my head, but I refrained from asking. My fingers began to massage the back of his head, delicately at first and they grew stronger when he didn’t grimace or flinch away. Instead, his hand moved to the small of my back and he pressed me tighter against him. As I kept massaging, he grew more and more tired. His weight leaned on top of me until all of it was there. He had fallen asleep. I was holding him up and I stood there. I continued holding him. I would’ve stood there for hours, standing for him but a small movement caught my eye and I looked up.
Amanda had a hand to her mouth. She watched from the doorway. As she did, a lone tear slipped down. Then she mouthed, “He’s asleep?”
I nodded. The woman in me didn’t want to move, but logic kicked in. He needed medical attention, sooner rather than later, so I whispered, “Go out the doors and have them call a doctor for me.”
She nodded, disappearing again.
Carter groaned and stiffened on me. He lifted his head up, holding it in the palm of hand as he grunted. His eye was pressed tight. “I fell asleep.”
He didn’t move all the way back, just enough so he could sit upright. Sliding my hands up his legs, more to test if there were wounds, I urged them apart and stood in front of him now. Front and steady. Then I began cleaning the rest of his blood. I started with his head first. Since there was so much blood, I went slow and dabbed so I wouldn’t reopen already healing cuts. When that was done, I got more washcloths and started on his chest.
Carter sat there the whole time. His hands rested on my hipbones. As I continued to wash him, his eyes closed and his head bobbed down. He slumped forward, as if he’d fallen asleep. But when I moved to grab another handful of washcloths, his hands tightened on my hips to keep me anchored in front. I skimmed a hand over his cheek, cupping the side of his face, and his eyes opened to mine. He was drowsy, but he moved to the side and kissed the inside of my hand.
“A doctor should be coming,” I murmured, my voice thick from so much damn love for this man.
His eyes closed again, but he kept a firmer grip on me.
Amanda came back and gave me the five minute signal. I wasn’t sure if we were supposed to leave or if the doctor would come to us, but I nodded. She left again and I took Carter’s hand. “You should shower and get different clothing on.”
He nodded. When he moved to unbuckle his pants, I brushed his hand to the side and did it for him. His pants and boxer briefs dropped to the floor. Before I could take him into the shower, he stopped me. His fingers came to my clothes and he lifted the sweatshirt off. My sweats were next and then we both stepped under the water. As it drenched us, more of his blood trailed down. The red circled the drain on the floor, turning the water pink. That seemed symbolic to me. Things were healing.