Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
I froze. “Okay,” I assured her. “You want to do it?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want me to go?” I asked, fighting down my hurt. How I was feeling didn’t matter. How she felt was paramount.
She didn’t look at me. “Not far.”
“I’ll be right outside the shower. I’ll get us some fresh clothes and be right back.”
“Okay.”
I slipped out, wrapping a towel around my waist. I waited until she was on her feet and soaping herself, then I hurried to my closet, pulling on sweats and a casual shirt before heading back. She was standing under the spray, moving slowly.
I picked up the clothes from the floor. “I’ll burn these.”
“No!” she gasped, turning. “My necklace.”
I tried not to let my rage show. She was covered in bruises. Cuts and welts were on her ankles, and I realized she’d been chained up. She had marks everywhere. I swallowed my anger.
“Where?” I asked.
“In the lapel. There is a little slit, and it fell to the hem.”
I found it, holding it up. “I have it, mo chroí.”
“It was all I had of you,” she whispered. “I had to keep it to remind myself you were out there.”
I held out my hand. “Una.”
She stepped from the shower, her marked skin wet. I wrapped a towel around her and pulled her close. She melted into me, shaky but still standing.
“I will always be there for you.” I pressed a kiss to her head. “Always.”
“I know.”
Her hands shook as she held a cup of tea. She was dressed and bundled in a blanket. Dr. Barnes had been to my room and checked her out, with me standing beside her the entire time. He’d been my private physician for years and I trusted him completely, but she needed me close. And he didn’t ask me to leave, understanding her frame of mind. He’d made and overseen all the arrangements downstairs for the victims we’d brought in for care as well.
“Dehydrated. Bruised and battered. She needs liquids, food, and care. Tylenol for the aches. This cream for the cuts on her ankles.” At the door, he met my gaze. “You did a good thing, Finn. All those people. We’ll look after them.”
I glanced back at Una. “I’m worried about her mental state. All of this, and her brother was one of the casualties.”
He handed me a small bottle. “To help her sleep if needed. Nonaddictive,” he assured me. “I can arrange some counseling if she desires it.”
“Thank you.”
“Now, next door. I understand Niall has another one.”
I frowned. “I thought he was taking her downstairs with the others.”
He shrugged. “Change of plan, I suppose.”
He left, and I returned to Una.
I pushed a bowl her way. “Please eat something.”
She looked at the soup, shaking her head. I sat beside her, lifting the bowl and pressing a spoon to her mouth. “Please.”
She let me feed her, some of the creamy soup slowly disappearing. She hadn’t spoken much, but she made sure she touched me. Every time I got up or moved, she became agitated, reaching out for me. I had a feeling it would be that way for a while. I was fine with it—I felt better touching her as well.
I set aside the bowl, offering her some toast. She took the lukewarm bread but made no move to eat it.
“Anna,” she suddenly said.
“Is safe,” I soothed. “With Niall,” I added.
She blinked. “Niall?”
“Apparently.”
“I want to see her.”
I wouldn’t deny her anything she wanted. I helped her to her feet, hating her grimace of pain. She wore a pair of soft leggings, a warm sweater, and socks, plus the blanket wrapped around her, which helped ward off the constant chill she was experiencing.
We went down the hall, knocking on Niall’s door. He opened it, looking unusually ruffled.
“Una wants to see Anna,” I stated.
He opened the door wider, indicating for us to come in.
Anna sat on the sofa, bundled much like Una in a blanket. Her hair was washed, hanging down her back almost to her waist, and it glinted a soft golden blond in the light. She had creamy skin, and her doe-like eyes were a deep brown. She was small and looked vulnerable. She carried the same marks of abuse as Una did, but hers were even more plentiful.
She cried out Una’s name, and the two women clung to each other, whispering and comforting the other.
I looked at Niall, and he shook his head. “I can’t get more than five feet from her and she becomes upset,” he said quietly. “I couldn’t take her downstairs. I stood inside the fucking bathroom facing the wall while she showered to keep her calm.”
“Una is reacting the same.”
“But Anna doesn’t know me.”
“Una probably talked about you. You carried her out of hell, Niall. It makes sense she feels safe with you.”
He didn’t say anything, his gaze locked on the small woman. There was something in his expression I had never seen from him before.