Craving Resurrection Page 75

My hand was pretty much useless; any time I moved it, I had to force myself not to gasp in pain, so Doc had to do most of the work. After he removed my shirt and bra, he pulled my pants to my ankles and helped me step out of them.

“Christ!” he hissed as he tried to remove my underwear next.

I began to shake as he wrapped his big hands around my hips and dropped his head forward in sorrow.

“I thought maybe—but then you didn’t say nothin’ so I hoped—” His voice was strained as he shook his head slowly from side to side. “I should have stripped you down while you were out,” he said to himself. “I fuckin’ knew better.”

I was thankful he hadn’t stripped me while I was unconscious. Who knows how I would have reacted to that on top of everything else?

“Thank you,” I said in a small voice, laying my good hand on the top of his head. “Thank you for leaving my clothes on.”

“Don’t thank me!” his words were harsh, but his hands were still gentle on my hips. “Motherfuckingsonofabitch!”

He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly as I stood awkwardly in front of him, and after a few moments, his calm façade was back.

“You’ve—your underwear—the blood—” he took another deep breath then began again. “The blood has dried. I’m not sure how badly you’re hurt, but your panties are stuck to your skin with blood, and I don’t want to rip them away in case things are even worse than I think they are.”

My stomach turned and I was afraid for a second that I was going to be sick. I swallowed it down and nodded at him to keep going.

“I’m going to put you in the shower like this so the water can wash away some of the blood,” he looked at me for acceptance. “Keep your hand out of the spray if you can. I wrapped those fingers good, but fuck if I know if I made them worse or not. You probably need fuckin’ surgery, but we can’t take you to a goddamn hospital in this hellhole. If you get those bandages wet, I’ll have to change them and it’ll hurt like hell, okay?”

“I won’t get them wet,” I assured him as he grabbed my elbow to steady me while I stepped into the tub.

“I’m so sorry this happened to you,” he said after silently keeping an eye on me for a few minutes as I let the hot water roll over my body. “I should have been more prepared. I knew somethin’ felt off, but I thought you’d be safe at work.”

“It’s not your fault,” I said flatly.

“I should have—”

“It’s not your fault. Can you help me get these off now?”

He nodded and reached for my underwear, pulling them slowly away. Thankfully the water had done its job, and all I could feel was a stinging sensation as he moved them down my thighs.

“I know you don’t want to do this. Fuck!” He threw the underwear out of the spray before continuing, “I need to check you, alright? I need to make sure you’re okay down there.”

I didn’t think that anything was significantly wrong down there, but I had no way to know. I hated the thought of Doc seeing me—of anyone seeing me. It made my skin crawl with revulsion. He was being so kind, far more gentle and apologetic than I knew he was comfortable with, but that didn’t stop the churning of my stomach as I agreed.

I stood there, one foot on the side of the tub, holding onto his shoulder to keep from falling, and burned with mortification.

It had been only hours since the only man who’d ever seen me without clothes had been my husband. It was demoralizing and degrading to let Doc look at me, but I knew I had to just let him do it. I’d been bleeding. Bleeding. And his eyes showed nothing but respect and sadness as he quickly looked me over.

When he was finished, I climbed quickly out of the shower and wrapped myself in a towel.

At some point after wanting to die of shame, I’d become angry. So very, very angry.

“I’m sor—”

“Stop saying that!” I snapped before dropping my head. Doc was an innocent party, he didn’t deserve my wrath.

“Go eat and then get some sleep,” he said calmly, opening the door to the bathroom so I could walk out. “We have to be ready to go by ten.”

I stopped abruptly at the edge of the living room as Peg caught my eyes from her place in the kitchen.

“I’m not going to North Carolina,” I informed them both. “I have some money stashed. It’s enough to buy us some plane tickets to the US if either of you wants to go with me.”

I looked back to Doc. “Thank you so much for your help today. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been here, and none of this is your fault.”

I turned back to where Peg was walking slowly toward me. “It’s Patrick’s fault,” I said, and watched her face fall. “I don’t ever want to see him again.”

***

I walked gingerly to my room and proceeded to get dressed and packed quickly, anxious to be gone from there. We left for the airport an hour later, and I carried nothing with me but the backpack I’d used for school, filled with clothes and the wad of cash I’d fished out of my hiding spot.

Peg decided that she would go with me, but Doc said he needed to take the steamer so he could meet Ham and the rest of the guys in North Carolina. I didn’t care.

I was content to go by myself, but a part of me was glad I’d have Peg there. She took care of all the arrangements, buying the tickets to New York City with the cash I’d had hidden for a rainy day in my sock drawer. It was a good thing that she and Doc were so willing to step in for me. A really good thing.