She stops her wild thrashing, and for a moment all I can hear is the ocean and her feral breaths racing over her lips.
She starts to tremble in my arms, and then her body jerks us to the side. She heaves and I quickly roll her over so she’s on her hands and knees. It’s just in time as she vomits.
I quickly gather her hair behind her neck and I wish there was more I could do right now.
I sit on my knees next to her until she starts to jerk with dry heaves and sobs. I can’t hold back my own tears. I hate seeing her like this. I hated it the first time, and I hate it now.
I sit flat on my ass and pull her into my arms. The emotions swarming inside of me is just too much. I feel rage. I feel a deep craving to kill every single person who has ever hurt her. My chest aches for her. My heart breaks for her, and my soul screams for revenge for what has been done to her.
She’s gasping for air through snot and tears, and I know I have to do something to calm us both down.
Before I can think of something she starts to pound her tiny fists into her chest. “I feel them all the time,” she rasps between cries. “It never stops.”
“Tell me,” I whisper hoarsely. It will haunt me forever, but I need to know what happened so I don’t trigger a panic attack like this ever again. “Tell me what they did, Cara.”
She shakes her head, and for a minute I think she’s not going to open up, but then the words start to spill over her lips. I’m bombarded with image after gruesome image.
Certain words hit harder, imbedding themselves into my gut.
‘They shoved me face down every time.’
‘I was breathing in chunks of vomit and still they wouldn’t stop.’
‘It felt like I was being stabbed, over and over and over.’
‘It hurt so much.’
‘I feel defiled … just ruined beyond repair.’
All of that pain for one man’s greed. I’m going to kill him.
He’s a dead man walking for fucking with the woman I love.
Cara~
It feels as if it just happened again, every single revolting second.
I can’t remember much of what actually happened the past few hours. Damian says that I took off running through the trees and into the ocean.
I’m sitting in the bath, staring down at all the scrapes over my chest and arms. My feet sting but I grit my teeth as Damian pulls thorn after thorn out.
“What about your feet?” I whisper.
“Don’t worry about that now. Let’s just get you cleaned up and in bed.”
As he continues to clean my feet, I just sit and stare at his face. That worry muscle is jumping over time. He looks like he did back when he found me, like a killer.
He rinses both my feet off and then grabs a towel. “Come on,” he says gruffly.
It feels like a freight train went over me. I move gingerly as I get out and then step into the towel.
I look up at Damian and whisper, “What are you thinking?”
I need to know that he’s not angry with me.
I need to know that I haven’t pushed him away with the crazy scene from earlier.
He swallows, and then his eyes meet mine for the first time since we came home. Tears rush to my eyes, clogging up my throat. The sadness and anger in his eyes make him look wounded and it hurts so much to see him like this.
“I’m going to kill him,” he says. “We’re going to fly to South Africa, and I’m going to kill him.”
The words shudder through me, cold chills racing up my spine.
I shake my head and take a step back from him. “N-no. I don’t want to go back there.” I wrap the towel tightly around me and then grip it hard to my body. “Can’t we just forget tonight and go on as if nothing happened? We’re just starting to make a life for ourselves.”
“Forget what happened?” he whispers. An enraged look tightens his features and he growls, “I can’t forget! Cara, you … the sounds you made! You puked on the beach. Fuck no, he’s dying, and he’ll die fucking slowly.”
I rush by him and go to the bedroom. I grab a clean shirt and slacks and quickly get dressed. Damian comes to stand in the doorway and he crosses his arms over his bare chest.
“You need to shower and then let me look at your feet,” I say in a rush, hoping he’ll drop this insane idea of his.
“Cara,” he says, sounding calm again. I start to straighten the sheets when he walks right up to me. He takes hold of my arm and turns me around so I’m facing him. He takes hold of my face, his palms cool on my hot skin. His eyes lock on mine. “We have to finish it. We either keep running or fight back and put an end to it. I can’t run. It’s not in me. I have to do this.”
“I’m not as brave as you,” I whisper, and then the stupid tears come again, making me look as weak as I feel. “I’m not like you, Damian. I’m a coward. I’d rather run.”