Page 3

Saul

After I reassured her of the bear’s safety and told her it had to stay in the bedroom on her bed, she reluctantly let go of it.

I would give it to her if she needed it, but I needed to be her security blanket.

I sat the bear on the bed and leaned it on the leg of my wooden bed beside her pillow.

Her head was still dipped down when I took hold of her hand.

It was so small against mine, and I had to push my anger back down at the thought of whoever abused her.

I was at least two decades her senior, yet I struggled with the mixture of emotions that Jane drew from me.

I took her from room to room upstairs.

When I spoke, it was in a calm and quiet voice.

I told her how long ago I bought the house and what work I’d done to it.

As she began to relax, her hand tightened around mine.

I wouldn't show her the converted loft space because that was my playroom.

It had little use since I never met a woman with whom I remained with long-term. The scenes that were played out in Club X were enough to satisfy my needs.

By the time I took her downstairs, she held her head upright.

The aroma of the food was in the air since I’d accidentally left the kitchen door open.

I could only hope that it would help stimulate her appetite.

She had gained a few pounds since she had escaped, but it wasn't enough.

“You will be eating five times a day. Three meals and two snacks. It doesn't matter if you can't finish it, but you will try your best,”

I said in a calm but stern voice.

“The stronger you are, the better it is for your health.”

She didn't react, and I didn't expect her to. I continued to show her downstairs, even taking her into the large garage, which had three cars in it. I smoothed her hair away from her face. Her eyes flickered, and I didn’t think she liked the garage. I looked around at the grey walls, shelves and cars. It wasn't any different from most garages.

“Can you drive?”

I asked as I took her around the shelving area.

There was a wall panel above the shelves that held all my tools.

I had everything in its place, but part of me wanted to show her that the garage was unlocked and that she had access to various weapons.

When her eyes moved over the different tools, I held back my smile.

She couldn't get the jump on me, but it was good to know she was curious enough to observe her options.

No sooner had the thought crossed my mind than she shut down again, and the vacant look returned to her haunted eyes.

“Maybe one day I could teach you how to drive a car,”

I said before I guided her back towards the house.

Her hand trembled in mine, and I knew she needed a break. When we got to the kitchen, I lifted her and placed her on the counter away from the oven. I focused on preparing the gravy from the tray and heating some garlic bread, which was one item she reportedly always finished. When I checked on her with a sneaky side eye, I was pleased she was watching me.

I moved beside her and took a knife from the wooden block to cut the chicken. When I returned to the chicken, she was looking at the knife block. In the hospital, the patients weren't permitted to use pens or pencils without supervision, let alone anything they could harm themselves or others with. It made me wonder if she had gotten hold of a knife.

Once everything was ready to serve, I washed my hands and stood before Jane. I hated calling her Jane. She was so much more than a Jane Doe. I placed my hands on the counter and pushed my way between her legs to see her reaction.

Her eyes closed momentarily, but as I put my hands on her waist, they opened again. She looked weary, but there was no reaction to my proximity. Dr Arin had said she suspected that Jane didn't remember the level of abuse, and I agreed with her. Until she began to speak again, we would never know.

“Dinner, bath and then bed for you,”

I murmured before I placed her legs around my waist. “Hold on,”

I said before I lifted her.

Her legs tightened around me, but her hands remained limp at her side, so I placed my hands on her ass and carried her into the dining room.

“I could get used to carrying you around,”

I said as I spread my fingers across the span of her denim-covered ass.

When I reached her pillow, I slid my hands into her black hoody to hold her lower back but felt her shiver. I looked into her beautiful, empty eyes. She had survived only for her mind to snap to preserve what remained of her. I wasn't looking forward to seeing what the animal had done to her, but I’d promised myself I would do whatever it took to see her blossom.

“You can let go now,”

I murmured.

“And get comfortable on your pillow.”

I held her until her feet touched the ground, but I was reluctant to remove my fingers from the warmth of her flesh. When I did, she moved to sit on the pillow.

“Good girl,”

I said, pleased she had followed my instructions.

I pulled her long blond hair with both hands until it fell down her back before returning to the kitchen to get our dinner. By hand-feeding her, I ensured she ate more than her usual meagre amount and let her become accustomed to my proximity.

It took two trips to bring everything into the dining room. I sat in my chair while Jane sat on her pillow with her legs crossed over in an open pose. I quickly added the mixed vegetables and chicken onto my fork before I raised it.

“Open those sweet lips for me,”

I said to her.

Her head turned towards me, but her lips were parted, and I smiled at her. I couldn't take my eyes off her lips as I slid the fork out of her. Her eyes closed as she chewed her food. I mashed up the next forkful for her but noticed she had turned towards me.

“Do you like my cooking, sugar?”

I asked as I brought the fork towards her lips.

She didn't look at me or reply but simply opened her mouth for me to feed her. When she raised her eyes towards me, her pale blue eyes had a sad yet soulful look that took my breath away.

“You are beautiful, and I know your lips will be the sweetest I've ever encountered,”

I whispered as I pulled the fork out of her mouth.

Her pupils dilated, and the black seeped over the ice blue of her iris. I wondered if it was anxiety or arousal.

“I bet your pussy will taste as sweet as honey,”

I said as I rubbed the pad of my thumb over her lips.

She stared into my eyes as if she couldn't look away, and I was just as captivated. This wasn't anxiety. It was something—more. I placed my fingers on her wrist and felt her pulse jump.

This was definitely more.

**

I sat her on the toilet and ran her bath with some of the lavender oil I’d bought. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her move.

“No, you don't do anything until you begin to look after yourself. I will be cleaning you,”

I said as I stood up from my seat on the edge of the bath.

Her hand paused on the toilet paper but dropped it and sat there waiting for me. I stood in front of her and reached to her side to activate the jet of water. I felt her jump beneath me, and I let out a chuckle before I rubbed my hand over her head and ruffled her hair.

“It’s only water,”

I said before I stood up to get the toilet paper to wipe her front to back.

I never expected to enjoy caring for my awkward little slave so much.

She remained seated while I pulled her shoes and socks off.

I watched for her reaction when I removed her jeans and panties, but she kept her head down.

I was glad that most of her legs were free from blemishes, but I knew the worst was to come.

“I will need to take your clothes off for the bath,”

I said as I reached for her hoody.

She didn't move or react, so I pulled her T-shirt and hoody off before I reached behind her to unclip her bra.

I tried not to look at the mangled collection of scars, but when I saw the smaller ones which were dotted across her back, I frowned.

The small dots were like no other scarring I’d come across. She shivered, and that snapped me out of my thoughts.

“The bath will be nice and warm for you, sugar,”

I said, rubbing my hands up and down her back as gently as I could.

“Can you stand up for me, or do you want me to carry you again?”

A burst of pride and pleasure shot through me when she didn't move. I lifted her, ensuring a secure grip around her before I walked towards the bath. I held her above the water for a moment.

“I’m going to lower you in, but tell me if you want it hotter or colder,”

I said before slowly placing her in the water.

Some people liked a scalding hot bath, while others liked a cool bath.

I’d tried to keep the temperature in the middle.

The floral scent of lavender surrounded us, and Jane’s eyes closed as she rested her back against the bathtub.

I reached out for the washcloth and some body wash. Her eyes were still closed as I began to rub the cloth over her arms.

I washed every inch of her body, tracking each burn, cut, and whip mark on her skin.

This was the result of outright torture.

No matter how much the medical report covered the details, reading it differed from seeing the reality.

The state of her body, with her ribs protruding from her skin to her skinny arms, sickened me.

I know she didn't eat enough in the facility they kept her in, but that wouldn't happen under my roof. She was not going to whither away and die. I would make damn sure of it. She fought to stay alive and would not throw it all away now.

After I washed her and topped the bath up with some warm water, I let her relax in the fragrant water. I stayed in the bathroom for her safety but messaged Grayson.

Me: Find who did this to her. Let me know if you need any help.

Grayson: I’ve got everyone I know on it. How is she doing?

Me: She is coping far better than I anticipated, but it’s too early to tell if she will implode at some point when I push for more. These things happen during the recovery period. It’s going to take time.

He didn’t respond, so I glanced at Jane, who lay with her eyes closed. It wouldn't surprise me if she’d fallen asleep. A vast amount of change from her secure mental facility filled with criminals. Her first Doctor should be hung for treating her like a criminal and not a victim.

I quietly sighed as Grayson’s response came through.

Grayson: I’ve always kept my eye out for the abusers at the club, but what Dom told me messed with my head. Everything changes once you become a Dad. There is a vast difference between BDSM and abuse. Luckily for me, Larisa was more than up for my demented preferences.

I more than remembered his wife on stage in Club X dressed up as a pony. He had the cheek to pull me up the one time I got carried away.

Me: So Dom tells me. Keep me posted.

I couldn't imagine being a father to a tiny human, especially since I didn't like most humans. When I glanced at Jane, the bubbles had evaporated, and I could see her rosy pink nipples poking out as she shifted her position. There were faded cane or whip marks across her breasts, but her nipples weren't damaged.

War was ugly, and I’d seen and experienced things that I could never discuss, but I’m not sure if I would have lasted a decade of torture. Again, I grappled with my empathy for her and what I would need to put her through in the coming weeks and months.