Page 18 of The Runaway

“M— most of these…” Croaking hoarsely, I struggled a short, hot breath that only fed the flames engulfing my lungs. “They’re from being fixed. I have metal everywhere. And… I’m missing parts. So… I don’t…”

“What? A doctor did that to you?” Jacob’s shout send me three feet in the air, and I backed up as he advanced. In two strides, he was on me, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up at the torture on his face. “Joci, no— no…”

His face was so close that I could feel his beard against my chin, and he pinned me against the counter between powerful arms. Wild eyes roiled like an angry ocean, and I held myself very still when they trailed down. Horrified, his lips trembled, opening and closing but with nothing coming out. Smooth fingertips touched the scars on my breast with feathery softness, and my heart stuttered dangerously.

“You... what? What does that mean— missing parts?” Reaching to take his hand, I hated the icy slickness that coated his palm. Intense, wide eyes met mine, and I pressed his fingers between my breasts, where the scar starts.

“Part of my lung.” My voice trembled something terrible, my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth. Dragging his hand down to one of the horizontal branches, I sucked in a shallow breath through flared nostrils. “Kidney… part of my stomach. My spleen.”

The opposite side, lower, though. All the while, Jacob’s disturbed expression deepened and darkened and twisted. The gnawing at my gut intensified, a disgusting taste coating my tongue as I licked my lips.

“My appendix.”Lower… lower… all the way down. “My right ovary.”

Anything that I could live without had been removed. The damage Anatoly had inflicted on me was so bad that it was a wonder I was alive. Against my pelvis, Jacob’s hand flexed, and I glanced down as I tangled my fingers through his.

“My bones are together because of pins. He ripped it all apart. My legs… my arms… my ribs… even my toenails. He ripped them off.” I could see it all falling apart when I blinked— these past few days of tentative bliss… it was all gone. It was all fake. It was all a lie.

This was the price I paid for my freedom— to spend it alone.

Why did I do this to myself?Was this what Ophelia felt when I told her to go to Aleksanderalone? Did this fear overwhelm everything, even just for a fraction of a second, when that second stretched into a lifetime?

“I’m sorry, Jacob.” My whisper lacked sound, and I tensed when his head whipped up. The beating of my heart raged against my skull, growing louder when Jacob reached to cup my cheek. He shook his head wordless, his unfathomable sorrow endlessly swirling in cloudy eyes. His fingers loosened around mine, and my eyes boggled when he captured my lips in a shattering kiss.

Blinking hard, I sucked in a sharp breath through my nose as shock jolted my body like a lightning strike. Jacob’s hands grappled my asshard, his short nails digging into my flesh before he hoisted me up onto the counter. My heart clogged my throat even as he tried to shove his tongue down it, and I clawed at his sides in confusion. Clammy palms dragged down my thighs, locking my knees over his hips before his hands flew back to hold either side of my face.

Tearing his mouth from mine, his tongue left me gasping furiously, and Jacob wrapped both his arms around me so I couldn’t get away. Did I want to get away? What was even happening? Hot, open-mouthed kisses trailed saliva down between my breasts, and my mouth hung, but no sound came out. He sucked my nipple between his teeth, his hand trying to be everywhere at once as my brain just tried fruitlessly to keep up with him.

“Fuck—” Nimble fingers played between the scars marring my breast, and I squeezed my eyes shut tightly. Turning my face away while Jacob trailed sloppy kisses up my neck, I ground my teeth against the roiling in my stomach. His harsh pants dried my skin as he kneaded my breasts, squeezing them together to stretch the scar tissue. I could feel his eyes on every part of me, his palms dragging down my front on either side of the puffy, dark mutilation. Whimpering pathetically when he reached my center, I quivered from the enormous strain on my body.

Jacob’s long fingers curled over my shoulders, following the thick scars there before wrapping around my neck and jaw. The soft past of his thumbs rose the fine hairs on my cheeks as he brushed them, gently coaxing me to face him. His eyes bored holes into me— so deep and violently searching andupset— and I gulped as incredibly short, hot breaths stung my nostrils.

If he wanted to say something, Jacob kept his mouth shut while he picked me up off the counter. His sauntering gait banged against my stiff body— I couldn’t even wrap my arms around him. I refused to open my eyes even as he set me on his bed, holding himself over me on trembling hands and knees. Those icy prickles sweeping down my chest intensified, and the darkness behind my lids tinged red.

“Joci…” My flesh bristled at Jacob’s croak as he rushed up my front, and I couldn’t hold my tears behind my tightly shuttered lids anymore. He sounded so sad, so empty, so mad, all at once, and I… I hadn’t cried in a long time.

19

Joci

Staring at Jacob through swollen, throbbing eyes, I reached to wipe my nose with a tissue pilfered from the nightstand behind me. Sniffling harshly, I opened my mouth to exhale a shaky breath in preparation.

“I don’t want you to… be…” My tongue failed me, but he seemed to know what words I couldn’t find. He always knew what I wanted to say, even though my English wasn’t great. “You can go… I won’t be mad.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Joci.” A small sob escaped me, and I clamped my hands over my mouth as Jacob’s firm, rough words wrapped around me. He sounded so sure, so confident, so determined, and a shudder raced down my spine before he reached to pry my palms off my face. Glimmering, oceanic eyes, so crystalline now when mere minutes ago, they were a disgusting grey— like a cloud over a huge pile of trash— held mine withfierceness. As if this was Jacob’s one great choice… that once in a lifetime decision that irreversibly changed the course of his life. That profound moment in time where everything was clear, and every moment from now to death was visible.

“Am I ugly?” Licking my dry, crackling lips nervously, I clenched my hands into tight fists as Jacob covered them with his palms. Wordlessly, he shook his head ‘no’, and I clenched and released my jaw so hard my teeth ached. “But… I’m not pretty, either.”

“… I think it takes a real special person to think your scars are beautiful right off the bat, Joci… but I’m not one of those people. You’re not ugly because of them, but… no, you’re not pretty, either— no.” I wasn’t sure what was worse— Jacob’s brutal honesty, or his brutal honesty. A war threatened to tear me apart, and he squeezed my wrists gently as his eyes blazed with determination. “It’ll get better. I promise.”

“I— I believe you.” For some reason, I got the notion that Jacob would be amazed at me— that he would think my body was testament to how strong I was, and that he’d think I was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. That, somehow, he’d be able to look past the extensive damage, or he’d ignore it and tell me my scars didn’t matter. Now, I realized how much I wanted him to think I was beautiful, but scars… scars weren’t pretty. Scars weren’t kind. Scars evoked sympathy, and now, I knew that I my fantasy had come true, all I’d get is a pity fuck.

“Most people look better with clothes on, to be honest. That’s why lingerie is a thing.” There was no hiding from that fact, I knew, and Jacob rubbed the insides of my wrists gently. The faint scars there burned, heat slithering up my arms, but it wasn’t painful. Actually, it was kinda nice, and I ducked my head to sniffle harshly. “I don’t understand how a doctor could do this to you, Joci.”

“They’re Makovich doctors. They do what they’re told. They fixed me. They weren’t told to make me pretty.” My mind was strangely quiet, empty, and I frowned as Jacob took a deep, stabilizing breath. “You’re not great. That’s okay, Jacob. I don’t blame you. Much times, I want to keep my clothes on, too.”

“Hey—” Reaching to cup my chin, Jacob caressed my lips with his thumbs as his eyes captured mine. My heart pounded, his intense attention thickening the goosebumps blanketing my skin. “I’m very, very grateful you showed me. Trust me— I can tell how hard it was for you.”

“… I can put my dress back on.” Jacob didn’t protest as I took my hands from his to climb off the bed, but his eyes strafed my back. I knew what he saw— the two, long scars trailing down either side of my spine, almost as puffy and disgusting as the one on my front. “Anatoly’s job is to torture people, and he’s really good. I don’t know how long it was, but it felt so small.”