Fractured
I feel my face heating. It might be comforting to know my nurse, but in this instance, I’d have rather have a stranger than Lucian’s aunt touching my private areas, even if it is with complete clinical detachment. “Thank you,” I murmur shyly as I’m finally free from everything that had me tethered to the bed. My body is throbbing like a toothache, but I’m determined to see this through. I have to. When Lucian’s aunt asks me if I’m in pain, I say no. She looks at me as if she knows it’s a lie but doesn’t call me on it.
“All right, I think we’re ready to try this. Lia, I’ll change your bandages when you’re finished with your shower. Wendy, I’ve got it from here. You can tell Luc to step back in on your way out.”
Lucian comes back and walks to my side. “All ready?” he asks as he rubs my arm reassuringly.
“Luc, if you’ll help Lia into the bathroom, I’ll get the shower chair ready for her to sit in. Then you can wait for us in the room.”
“No!” I cringe as my voice echoes throughout the room. They both look at me with concern. “I mean, I want Lucian to help me…bathe.” His aunt is looking at me in surprise, but I see nothing but understanding in Lucian’s eyes. “I…he knows me,” I attempt to explain. In truth, I can’t stand the thoughts of anyone else but him being with me as I try to wash the filth from my body.
Without a word, his aunt steps into the bathroom and turns the shower on. She then motions for Lucian and me to go in. Instead of allowing me to walk, he scoops me into his arms and carries me into the bathroom, pulling the door closed behind us. He places me gently onto the shower chair, which his aunt has situated close to the stream of water. He opens the ties on the back of my hospital gown and slowly lowers it from my shoulders before removing it completely. When I nod for him to continue, he picks up the detachable showerhead and brings it to my back, letting the warm waterfall against my skin. He uses his other hand to pump out soap from the wall dispenser into his palm and begins to alternate between soaping and rinsing my body.
I look down at his hand against my breast and silent tears fall as he gently washes the ugly, bruised and bitten areas surrounding my nipples. He sees evidence of every moment of violence I endured, and I know with certainty that it’s tearing him apart. Instead of turning away, though, he looks for and cleans every bruise, scratch, and bite he possibly can. He understands that I need this, and in some ways, I know he needs it just as badly. This is no longer just about a bath for either of us; it’s an attempt to cleanse our minds from the horror of my attack.
When he reaches the juncture of my thighs, he pauses for the first time, waiting silently for me to give him permission. I open my legs and we both see the mass of black and purple marks marring my inner thighs. As I open to him further, I hear him inhale raggedly as one area of my thigh shows a visible handprint etched into the skin along with jagged bite marks. I feel him tremble against me, and I hold my breath. If he isn’t able to touch me there and replace the ugliness, which threatens to consume me, I’ll snap. The thread holding me together is completely in his hands, and it will kill me if he turns away from me now.
As if sensing my focus on his hand, he moves it slowly and begins washing me. Even though I know it’s hurting him, he continues to touch every inch of my skin with tender, almost loving strokes. I flinch and try to close my legs on reflex when he reaches my sex. I wasn’t penetrated by my stepfather…he tried, but his failure to achieve a sufficient erection to violate me drove him into a rage which led to his complete loss of control. From that moment forward, his only aim was to punish me for his inability to perform. I said a word of thanks for every blow, that rained down upon me, because even if he killed me, he would never have that part of me. His beating, in a way, was my triumph over him and he knew it, he sensed it. That was what drove him to try to carve the word ‘whore’ into my stomach. When he told me he was going to do that, he finally saw and felt what he wanted to from me: desperation, despair, and anger. God, he had been thrilled to finally strike that chord of fear.
Lucian finishes with my body and begins washing my hair. A moan escapes my lips as his fingers gently massage my sore scalp. The headache I had awoken with begins to abate slightly as the warmth of the water releases some of the tension there. I close my eyes and give myself up to the pleasure of his hands.
I am shaken from the trance I’ve fallen into by the feel of Lucian’s hand encircling my neck and bringing my face to his. “He’s gone, baby. There is nothing left of him on you. My hands and my scent are all you’ll feel and smell now. Your bed was changed while we were in here, as well, so we are beginning anew. Okay?”
I nod in reply as the never-ending tears, which seem to leak of their own accord from my eyes continue. He rubs them away with his fingertips, and then as if it has just occurred to him, he grabs a fresh cloth and wets it before washing my entire face as if I were a child. My love for him in this instant knows no equal. He is here when most would have walked away. He looks at my marked body and it’s as if he sees only beauty. No matter what happens in the future, I know with unerring certainty that I will never love another as I love him. I touch the scar at his throat, telling him without words that his pain is mine just as mine is his. We’ve both been hurt by someone in our lives, but against all odds, we have found each other. He is the answer to my prayers, and I can only hope that I’m not his worst Hell. Going forward, our fates are intertwined because the fragile bond that had been forming between us, has been solidified and only a deep tragedy could tear it apart. I wrap my hand around his and simply stare up at him. I know he must see my feelings for him in my eyes and I do nothing to hide them. “Thank you,” I whisper into his palm before placing a kiss there, and we both know I’m thanking him for more than the bath.
He swallows audibly before brushing his lips against mine. His only answer is, “Always, baby.”
I cling to those words, feeling a neediness I’ve never felt before. I understand it’s normal considering the trauma I’ve endured, but I wonder if I’ll ever be able to return to a time that I could exist without him. I lower my eyes, hoping he doesn’t see the panic I feel at the mere thought of a life without Lucian Quinn in it.
He dries me as best he can before wrapping another towel around my body and carrying me back into the room. His aunt is waiting by the bed with fresh bandages. She points to the bed, and he places me gently on the fresh sheets as she approaches. Without looking at me, she begins to separate the tape and gauze. “Lia, I need to change the wet bandages. I know you would rather Luc do it, but I need to assess your injuries. He can stay next to you while I work.”
“Okay,” I whisper, knowing I don’t have a choice. She has no doubt already seen the full extent of my injuries, but I’m still embarrassed at the thought of her opening my towel. Lucian takes my hand in his, rubbing circles on the top of it as he wills me to relax. When the towel opens, I look at him, letting her work. My skin crawls at the touch of her cool fingers against it, but I don’t pull away. As long as he is here, no one will hurt me.
I am unable to control the wince when she goes to the other side of the bed and picks up my hand. I’m wearing a brace on it along with some tape on three of my fingers. It feels stiff and swollen and it hurts as she peels back the tape. “I know this doesn’t feel too good, but this needs to be changed. I should have thought to put a bag over it before you showered.”
“Wh…What’s wrong with it?” I ask, wondering what could possibly be causing so much pain.
She grimaces before saying, “Your wrist and three of your fingers are broken. We’ll put a cast on when some more of the swelling goes down.”
Suddenly, the sound and feel of those fingers breaking comes back to me in a sickening wave. “I passed out when he broke the first finger, but he managed to rouse me enough to make sure I was aware of what was happening when he broke the next two.” I fight the urge to roll into a fetal position and hope the memories of that day will stop coming to me.
Lucian abrup
tly drops my other hand and steps back. “I—just need some water. I’ll be back,” he throws over his shoulder as he leaves so quickly I’m left reeling from his departure. I blink back tears again, afraid he’s leaving me now.
“Honey,” his aunt says gently. “This is hard on him. I’ve never seen him this way with a woman before, and it’s hurting him that he couldn’t save you.”
I have no idea where it even comes from, but I find myself blurting out, “What about Cassie? He loved her, didn’t he?”
His aunt freezes, seeming just as shocked by my question as I am. Finally, she says, “Has he talked to you about her?”
Shaking my head, I say, “Not really. He has said that he will when the time is right. She’s the one who hurt him, isn’t she?”
She doesn’t answer until she’s finished with the last bandage. Then she looks at me for another long moment before finally speaking. “It’s a long, complicated, and tragic story, Lia. It’s up to Luc to tell you about it himself when he’s ready. I will tell you, though, that he went through a very rough time afterwards. The fact that he’s let himself get so involved with you is something I never thought would happen again. You have the power to hurt him, more so than Cassie ever did. Please don’t abuse the trust he has given you.”
I place my hand over hers and say honestly, “He holds the power in our relationship because he has my heart.”
She pulls the sheets back over me, tucking them around my body carefully before reattaching the IV lines. “I’m going to get you something for your pain; I know you probably need it by now.” I nod, feeling every ache and pain in my body jump to life. As she reaches the door, she adds, “You hold his heart, as well, even if he isn’t ready to admit it.” The door closes quietly behind her, and I find myself waiting for him to return to me. Could she be right? Does Lucian love me? Is he even capable of it after Cassie? I so want to know what happened between them. I am certain that it’s the key to unlocking the remaining mystery of who Lucian is. The one question I desperately need answered is where is Cassie?
Chapter Four
Lucian
I pace the smoking area as I inhale and exhale, hoping it’ll calm me. I’ve barely been keeping it together since seeing the damage to Lia’s body. She is so tiny I can’t even imagine how she survived the type of beating that would leave those types of bruises behind. When I saw the handprint on her thigh, I had to swallow down the bile threatening to come up my throat. Just thinking of that evil fucker touching her there is enough to make me want to tear this city apart until I find him. Aunt Fae says there is no evidence that she was raped, but God, I need to know from Lia that it’s true. I can’t stand the thought of him inside her. I’ll fucking kill him somehow if he did. I’d gladly rot in jail just for that pleasure.
I just lost it when she told us how he had broken her fingers. I guess I thought maybe that had happened in the struggle— which would have been bad enough, but knowing he deliberately snapped them one at a time, makes me crazy. She hasn’t said his name, always referring to ‘him.’ I had little doubt from the beginning; now there is none. How will either of us ever be able to live our lives knowing he’s still alive?
I’m on my second cigarette when I hear, “Luc, when did you start smoking?”
I turn around to see Max behind me, waving the cloud of smoke floating by him away. I hold up a finger, signaling for him to give me a minute while I take a few more puffs before putting it out in the can provided by the hospital. No doubt, they are trying to avoid having butts lying all over the ground. “Max, sorry about that. I figured they’d frown on me sitting in Lia’s room drinking scotch, so I’m giving smoking a try.”
Max wrinkles his nose. “How’s that working out for you?”
“It sucks,” I deadpan, not even bothering to deny it. I’m going to need another toothbrush tomorrow because I’ve all but worn out the one I have. Curious, I ask, “So, what brings you here this late?”
He shifts uncomfortably before saying, “I…was having dinner with Carly when the hospital called letting her know Lia was awake. She wanted to talk to her right away so I came along, as well. Thought I’d see if you needed anything.”
I can’t help raising a brow at his admission. It seems that my suspicions were right, and he has more going on than friendship with his police contact. Not that I’m surprised, really. Max isn’t one to flaunt his relationships, but I know he has never had a shortage of female company. Instead of commenting on it, I ask, “Do you have any news for me yet?”
“Depends on what kind of news you are looking for. There’s nothing on Jim Dawson. He’s disappeared, and Lia’s mother isn’t talking. It’s quite possible that she doesn’t know anything this time. Carly said she seemed surprised to find out about Lia; actually she said she seemed shocked. Of course knowing what we do about the type of woman she is, I doubt she’s been too torn up over it.” With a pained grimace, he adds, “Makes me want to call my mom and thank her for not being a psycho.”
I agree, thinking I’m better off without parents than having the type Lia’s had to deal with. “Do the police have any leads?”
“I don’t think so,” Max answers in disgust. “It just boggles the mind that someone like Dawson with few resources can evade everyone so easily.”
“You’d be amazed at the people who’ll help someone like that,” I add, knowing that evil people tend to help each other no matter what the cost to themselves. Rather like a code of honor among thieves.
“So, anyway,” Max adds, seeming to come to the point of his visit. “If I were a betting man, I would say that Lee Jacks knows all about Lia by now.”
His statement does not even vaguely surprise me. It’s something I’ve expected from the moment Max told me what he’d found out about Lia’s past. Asking questions about a man like Jacks was sure to be noticed. “Anything in particular which leads you to that conclusion?”
“I received a call earlier from Mark Wilks, who is one of several attorneys on retainer to Falco Enterprises. He and I play golf on a regular basis, and he wanted to let me know that my interest in Mr. Jacks’ personal life had not gone unnoticed.”
“Was he fishing?” I ask, curious as to why Jacks would choose such an indirect route to me.
“No, not at all. He didn’t ask me any questions. It was just a courtesy call to give me a heads-up. I don’t think Jacks is the type to use his lawyer for something like that.”
I grin, catching his double meaning. “I think we both know you’re more than my lawyer. Besides, I don’t employ people to keep their ears to the ground like Jacks does, as I don’t have as much to hide.”
Max shakes his head. “We’ve all got skeletons in the closet, Luc. Some of them just rattle more than others.”
“True,” I acknowledge his statement before asking, “So, you think it’s only a matter of time before he shows up?”
“You better believe it. If we’re right, then Lia is his only child, at least that I know of. There’s no way he’ll be able to resist seeing her in person.”
“We both knew it was inevitable from the moment we found out. I know his dealings are sometimes questionable, but really, could he be any worse than her mother?”
“I don’t know, Luc,” Max answers honestly. “He does maintain close ties with his brother, so obviously family means something to him. I don’t think he’ll approach Lia without coming to you first. You two are acquaintances. I figure he will want to feel you out before going to Lia. I have to believe he’s as fucking blown away by this turn of events as we are.”
“What makes you think he hasn’t known about her all along?” I ask, hoping to Hell I’m wrong. The last thing Lia needs is another parent who has failed her.
“It’s possible,” Max admits. “But from what I know about him, it’s not probable. No matter what he is, I don’t see him leaving a daughter in the situation Lia was in. Lee isn’t the type of man to let someone else mess with his possessions.”
I’m inclined to agree with Max’s assessment. Regardless of whether his dealings are legal, not legal, or strictly in the grey, Jacks is an accepted and sought-after member of Asheville society. He’d never leave a scandal like that to come back to haunt him later. If Lia is his daughter and he knew about her, either she’d have lived with him or he would have sent her somewhere far away. He would have never left her here right under everyone’s nose for someone to stumble across at an inconvenient time. He’s not a stupid man. Although, the argument could be made that he must have had a severe lapse in judgment at least once in his life. A relationship with Maria Adams is enough to make me shudder. It’s hard to imagine that the bitch could have been that much different then.
“We’ll see what comes of it,” I finally say. I fight the urge to light another cigarette while I process his news. I’ve been gone a while, and I need to get back to Lia. I can’t imagine what she must think at the abrupt way I left. I feel like it will be easier for her to talk to the police about what happened to her without me present, but I need to be close in case she needs me. If I’m truthful with myself, I’ll admit that I’m afraid I’ll have a hard time dealing with it, as well. The thoughts of anyone touching her makes me violent. I’ve never been this possessive of a woman before, certainly not of Cassie, and it’s more than a little disconcerting. “Let’s go back in.” I wave Max forward.
I don’t miss the look of relief that crosses Lia’s expressive face when I walk into the room. I cross to her immediately, blocking the view of everyone in the room as I stop next to her bed. “Okay?” I ask, probing her tense expression. She nods just once, but looks so grateful to see me that I immediately feel guilty for leaving her. “I’m here, baby,” I assure her before settling into the chair on the other side of her bed and rubbing her leg soothingly.