Page 8 of The King of Hearts (The Raven Group #1)

CHAPTER FIVE

HER

I stand by the door and watch as Liliana settles Harper against her chest, tucking her as close to her as she can get before pulling the blanket over them both. It’s like she’s trying to pull her into her body to protect her. She reminds me of a mother kangaroo and the pouch on her stomach.

It’s been four days since they were brought in, and she still hasn’t spoken a word directly to me. She talks to Harper, and that’s it. I don’t really blame her. She doesn’t know me or anyone else in this house.

It goes to show just how bad her situation was before Bishop and Ryker brought her and her daughter here.

She hasn’t tried to leave the house. She doesn’t even leave this room.

For her to opt to stay with people she doesn’t know or trust says a lot.

She’d rather take the chance with the unknown than go back to where she was before.

I wish she would talk to me. I’ve told her that my family could help her, but she just ignores the words like I never spoke them.

Trust. It’s a bridge I have to build, and I’m determined to do it.

This is my role in The Raven Group. To make the client feel comfortable. To build a bond and camaraderie. To become their friend, someone they can talk to and confide in. It’s a role I very much enjoy. I like knowing that I’m part of their healing process.

I’m still having a hard time grasping that this woman is a mother to a five-year-old.

She’s only nineteen, which means she must have gotten pregnant when she was thirteen.

Was it consensual? Or was she coerced or even raped?

Is the father of Harper the one who beat her so badly?

Any time I think of those last two scenarios, I want to stab something and watch it bleed.

I continue to observe for a few minutes, the lumps beneath the duvet going still.

I can see Liliana’s face peeking out of the top.

The bruises that covered most of her face have turned a yellowish brown, and the swelling has gone down.

When she woke that first morning, she could barely move without releasing little whimpers of pain, but she’s getting along better now.

When Dr. Bale stopped by, he asked if he could perform a rape kit and Liliana adamantly shook her head.

“There’s no need. I can tell you I was raped.”

Other than a few yes’s and no’s, those were the only words she spoke.

They were said with a deadened tone while keeping her gaze averted from me and Dr. Bale, the only two people in the room besides Harper.

Other than the rape kit, she let him do a full exam and reset her nose and pop her shoulder back into place.

Over half of her body was covered in cuts and bruises.

I kept my tears as bay as I sat nearby during the exam, but I let them once I was alone in my room.

I flip the light off, bathing the room in darkness, before I leave and quietly close the door behind me.

Tomorrow morning, I’ll be back when she wakes up.

Each day, I try to spend a few hours with them.

I don’t want to overwhelm Liliana with my presence, but I want her to know I’m here and not going anywhere.

Marcelo is waiting for me just outside of my room. His own room is a few doors down. When he became my bodyguard, Dad put him close to me.

“Are you at the clinic tomorrow?” he asks, leaning away from the wall he was perched against.

“Yes. We’ll leave at ten.”

“I’ll have the car ready.”

“Thank you.” I grab the doorknob to my room. “Have a good night.”

He grunts in reply before walking toward his room. I shake my head as I enter my own. The man is a mystery. One in which, something tells me, I’ll never solve. It’s fine, though. He can keep his secrets, just as I’ll keep mine.

My room is dark, and a light, briny smell greets my senses.

There’s no moon tonight, making the darkness seem extra ominous, so I flip the switch on beside the door and a soft light fills the space.

The sheer curtains hanging over the balcony doors billow with the soft breeze.

I like to keep the doors cracked when I’m in my room because I like the smell of the ocean.

With my hair twisted up into a messy knot on top of my head so I don’t get it wet, I take a quick shower.

I slip on a thong and a soft pink cami and leave the bathroom.

I come to a stop when I notice a box on the end of my bed.

It’s matte black and is about the size of a small shoe box.

A black silk ribbon wraps around the sides and ends in a neat bow on top.

With my head tilted to the side with curiosity, my feet shuffle across the floor until I’m standing in front of it. I’m a typical girl in many ways and love getting gifts.

But who sent it? And why did they leave it on my bed instead of giving it to me directly?

My eyes dart to the bedroom door and find it still closed.

Then I look at the balcony doors. They’re in the same position as they were when I opened them earlier.

Was this on the bed when I came in after leaving Liliana and Harper’s room?

I don’t remember seeing it, but I was distracted, so I guess it could have been.

Maybe it’s from one of my brothers. They don’t live here anymore, so maybe they didn’t want to disturb me while I was visiting Liliana and Harper.

I pick up the box, surprised at how light it is. I give it a shake, and something shifts around inside. Carrying it over to my vanity, I set it down and take a seat. I slide the box around, looking for a notecard, but come up empty.

Fingering one of the tails of the bow, I notice how soft it feels. This isn’t cheap silk. I pull the tail, and the bow slides apart. I’ll keep that ribbon and maybe use it for a hair accessory.

The box feels just as soft when I lift the top off and set it to the side. There’s black tissue paper sitting on top. I pinch it and set it away.

An unpleasant copper metallic scent that tingles my nose and churns my stomach comes from the box. At first, I’m confused by what I see. I frown and dip my head closer to get a better look. Time couldn’t have moved more than a couple of seconds, but it feels more like long minutes.

Horror and fear slam inside me when I recognize the contents. My chair screeches across the floor when I shove it back and jerk up from it.

What in the hell is this?

Who in the fuck sent me a heart ?

A real heart. One that still has fresh blood on it.

From a now obviously dead person. There’s no way it’s a fake one.

No model or prop could come that close to mimicking an organ like that, not to mention the deep red blood that’s smeared all over it and the box.

And I know what blood smells like. That’s not fake either.

This is the point where I should probably scream, but I don’t.

I approach the box slowly, warily, like I’m worried it may leap out and give me a jump scare.

Morbid curiosity has me reaching inside and picking up the thing.

I’ve never held a heart in my hands before, and I’m surprised at how smooth the surface is.

It’s sticky because the blood is starting to dry, but there’s still enough fresh blood that a few drops fall and hit my feet.

Near the top, there are several hunks of flesh that protrude where the thick arteries were severed.

Suddenly, the light in my room goes out, and it startles me enough that I drop the heart. I barely notice the thunk of it hitting the vanity.

“Scream and I’ll sew your lips shut.”

I whirl around at the deep, masculine voice that comes from behind me.

My heart lodges in my throat, and sweat breaks out on my forehead when I see the dark, imposing figure standing just inside the balcony doors.

I’m short compared to just about anyone over the age of sixteen, but this man towers over me by well over a foot.

With the moon hiding tonight, it’s extra dark in the room with the lights off. Even so, I can tell his clothes are dark, black maybe. His face is shadowed, but it looks like something is covering it.

“W-who are you?” My voice is shaky and breathless.

“That’s not important,” he replies.

I take a step back, and he matches my move with a step forward. His legs are miles longer than mine, so his step forward is bigger than my backward one. Fear has saliva gathering in the back of my mouth, and my legs feel like they’ll give out at any minute.

I want to stand my ground and ignore his demand to keep my mouth shut and scream as loud as I can. Marcelo is just a couple of doors from my room and would get to me first. Dad would barge in right afterward. In less than thirty seconds, people would storm the room and get rid of this stranger.

But something holds me back. Maybe it’s the menacing vibes coming from this man. Or maybe it’s the tone in which he issued his order. Something inside me says everyone is better off if I keep quiet. At least for now.

I lift my foot to take another step back, but I stop myself. To show fear is to give the other person power, and I refuse to give this man that.

“What do you want?” I ask, inserting strength in my voice that I don’t really feel.

I’m scared out of my fucking mind. So scared my teeth are nearly chattering.

“Everything, Savina.”

Goose bumps break out over my arms, and my scalp prickles at his declaration. And it is a declaration. It’s in his tone, and it’s in the rigid way he holds his body.

I hate that I can’t see his face. His voice sounds familiar, but I can’t place it. Whatever’s covering his face doesn’t help. It’s almost like he’s altering his real voice to throw me off. I know this man, but he doesn’t want me to figure out who he is.

I cross my arms over my chest and hug my middle, making myself smaller. My room is big, but with this man filling the space, it seems only half the size it was before.

“What does that mean?”