After Scott left, silence filled the apartment. Sophia shifted awkwardly and grimaced at the pain. Neil gestured for her to go into the living room. She took one tentative step then winced. Sophia proceeded carefully after that and took one hesitant step after the other, squeezing her legs together so blood wouldn’t seep. Her eyes skimmed the room. A 64-inch flat screen smart tv hung on the plain white wall. A couch, a foot stool and reclining chair, all in a soft looking beige fabric were placed in an L, centered around the tv. A slated stone coffee table and end table rounded out the shape. There were no pictures. No clocks slowly ticking. It was basic. But it was clean. And it wasn’t that school, or her house.

“Have a seat.” Neil gestured toward the couch.

Sophia hesitated and shifted again. Her nostrils flared as she tried to ignore the stab of pain in her lower abdomen, the sharp pangs in her core, and the bruising along the inside of her thighs. Neil must have noticed her hesitation. He came closer to her and Sophia moved sideways in a careful shuffle, trying to prevent him from seeing the blood that ran down the inside of her legs in a slow trickle, or the stains and dried blood that would tell him how bad she had been bleeding in the car.

He narrowed his eyes and stared at the bruising on her face from when Matthew belted her across her mouth. Her face was dirty, tear streaked. The brush burn on her sensitive skin from straining against the gag was a red, raw strip from one side to the other. Her hair stuck to her face where she had pressed the side of her head against the window. His eyes skimmed lower. He scanned her trembling arms, and her hands clenched in fists. Though she didn’t notice, they were clenched so tightly her nails bit into the palms of her hands. Then his gaze skimmed lower. She wasn’t quick enough to hide the bloody stains.

Alarm filled his eyes and his jaw dropped open before he clenched them together. He frantically looked around the room. Snatching the blanket off of the back of the chair, he set it on the couch. He rushed over to her but stopped just short of touching her.

“Sit.”

Sophia gave up trying to hide what he clearly already saw and lowered herself onto the blanket.

Neil knelt down in front of her, looking worried.

“Holy shit, Sophia,” he said. His voice was agitated, alarmed. “You should have told me. Why didn’t you tell me?”

She cast her gaze to the floor. Shame washed over her. Shame, and humiliation. “It wouldn’t have mattered,” she said quietly. S~ᴇaʀᴄh the FɪndNøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

After a minute he went to pick up his cell phone. With another glance at Sophia, he walked over to the window. He held the curtain back with one hand while talking on the phone.

“It’s bad, Scott.” He listened to the response.

“I think we better get her some pads. Can you stop? I don’t want to leave her alone.”

Neil ran his hand along the top of his head while Scott responded.

“How the hell should I know what brand is best. What the fuck kind of question is that?” Neil said then waited.

“No, I don’t know what size she wants, and I’m not asking her. Just get pads.” Neil looked over at the couch. “Big ones.”

Neil rubbed his hand along the back of his neck. He paced the living room while he continued his conversation with Scott in hushed tones. He disconnected the call and laid the phone on the table. Sophia could see his hands shaking. With detached emotion, she thought how it should surprise her to see him shaken. He knelt in front of her again and inhaled a deep breath, closed his eyes for a second. She could see the adrenaline leaving his body. His lips moved but his words didn’t register. He put a hand on her knee and quickly realized his mistake when she reared back. The unwanted contact was enough for her to pay attention to what he was saying.

“I have training, you see. Skills. So, if you need--” he gestured toward her lap. “If you need stitches, I can do it. As good as any nurse.”

Sophia leaned forward to shield her lap from his eyes.

“I think the bleeding stopped,” she said.

He nods, relieved that he wouldn’t have to stitch her. It wasn’t giving stitches that bothered him. He’s put them in others before, as well as himself. It was the location of the stitches that had him sweating bullets.

Neil stands up, careful to not invade her space.

“I’ll start you a shower.”

Sophia nods. She felt guilty about rearing back from him, he clearly was only trying to offer comfort. But she didn’t want to be touched. Not now. Maybe not ever again.

The spray of the shower came from somewhere behind her. A minute later, Neil came in, holding two fluffy towels and a pair of sweats, a t-shirt and some socks.

“Here, let me help.” He set the clothing on the table and reached for her, pausing a moment before contact.

He carefully gripped her elbow and helped her up. When he was sure she was steady on her feet, he let his arm drop and snatched the pile off the table.

“Come on. The water’s ready.”

She moved as slow as molasses. When they got to the bathroom, he set the stuff on the counter.

“Do you...uh, need any help?” he asked.

Sophia couldn’t bear the thought of someone seeing her skin, her bruises. Especially him. But she wondered if she’d have the strength to stand under the water, let alone wash her body. And her hair. Her hair was a lanky mass.

Watching him turn on the shower she wondered if she had the strength to stand under the water, let alone wash her body.

“Okay, uh, I’ll be outside the door. If you need help or something happens just yell for me. Neil stepped out of the small bathroom, leaving Sophia standing there looking around. The bathroom was small. Not small like her bathroom under the stairs. It has a bathtub too. The royal blue towels, floor mat, and shower curtain. The steam filled the room with a thick fog. She peeled the bloody clothes off. When she went to step into the shower she knew she shouldn’t. But she was going in and staying in until the water turned cold. She didn’t just have blood and dirt to wash off. She wanted to wash all the memories of the last five years from her brain. She wanted to wash every semblance of Matthew’s touch.

Sophia stood under the shower until the water did turn cold. The rhythmic sound of the water blocked out sounds of the world. It cleansed, it soothed. And it was needed. Unable to take the chill any longer, she stepped out, holding onto the side for support. She towel-dried her hair, then wrapped it in a turban style. She dried her body, and the fluffy cotton soothed her bruised skin. She sat on the edge of the tub. Perched really since she hurt so badly still. She knew she was still bleeding and didn’t know what to do.

“Neil, do you have anything--” She called out.

The door opened a crack, a hand slipped in and dropped a shopping bag on the ground. In it was a box of overnight pads for heavy flow, two pairs of plain underwear, a sports bra, and a toothbrush. She put the panties on then lined it with the pad. She slid his sweats on, careful not to open her legs wide. Inhaling his scent, she pulled his shirt over her head then turned the water on in the sink. She brushed her teeth, avoiding her own reflection. She saw a brush sitting off to the side with hair ties lining the handle. She assumed it was Neil’s. She removed the towel and brushed it as much as she could. Her entire body ached, and she just wanted to lay down. She pulled a tie off the handle and ponied her hair along her nape. She was still avoiding the mirror. She was too afraid to look at her own reflection. Afraid of what she’d see.

Sophia left the bathroom, to find Neil outside it.

“I’d like to lay down now, please. I’m very tired,” Sophia said.

Without a word, Neil guided her toward his room. He opened the door and flipped the switch. Sophia startled at the brightness until lowered it with the dimmer. Clean, she thought. It was clean, it was warm, and for the time being, it was safe.

Sophia curled onto her side, turned away from him. She had her arms wrapped around herself and the blanket pulled up to her chin. She bit back all sound, but tears pearled in her eyes then rolled down her cheeks. She could feel Neil watching her. She could feel his helplessness, but she just couldn’t care. She wanted to die. Or disappear. She just couldn’t care.

“You’re safe here, Sophia,” Neil whispered. He put an extra blanket on the bed, then dimmed the light more. From the doorway he said. “Get rest, so you can heal. I’ll be out there if you need me. All you have to do is call for me, and I’ll be here to keep you safe.”

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