Chapter Twenty
Looking at the radio clock, it felt like it should be much later than two in the afternoon. I was thankful for the quiet drive home as the streets weren’t yet busy with rush hour traffic. Leaning my head against the window of Anthony’s truck, I watched the downtown streets morph into suburban roads as the events of the last 24 hours ran through my mind. After Detective Kregler had shaken hands with Anthony, he had left and the nurse had returned one more time with discharge papers and a set of scrubs. She had helped me change while Anthony had walked his partner out, even though I could tell he wanted to protest. Honestly, I didn’t want him to see the bruises. If the one on my face was any indication, I preferred to keep those to myself for now.
I closed my eyes and took deep breaths, a feeling of uncertainty attempting to settle in my stomach and making me nauseous. Anthony’s hand laid on top of mine, comforting me with little brushes of his thumb. I had gotten away. I was safe. Repeating those words in my head over and over, I focused on the motion of the car and the warmth of Anthony’s hand. The combination soothed the nerves in my body and I could feel myself beginning to relax. Listening to the song softly playing on the radio, everything else drifted away.
When I opened my eyes, Anthony had me pressed against his chest, his scent enveloping me as he lifted me out of his truck and into the house. I wanted to protest, but smiled to myself, remembering his insistence on not letting me walk, both in the hospital and when we left. He wanted to take care of me and I was too exhausted to fight him. I felt how I imagined being run over by a truck must feel like and just wanted to go back to sleep.
I lifted my head as we ascended the stairs, confused where Anthony was taking me. “Where are you going?” I asked, looking up at his face while trying to read his expression. He kept his eyes forward and avoided my gaze.
“Your bathroom doesn’t have a bathtub and you can’t take a shower with your stitches,” he answered. As much as I wanted to argue for him to just take me to my bed, a bath sounded nice. There was a layer of dirt on my skin that I wanted to wash off.
Reaching the top of the stairs, Anthony stepped into his room and went to his master en suite. There had never been a reason to come in here, and my jaw dropped at the sight of his bathroom. Across from the double sinks with a beautiful marble countertop was a massive clawfoot tub. Behind it was a glass shower with a waterfall shower head and black tile. I was speechless, Anthony’s chuckle letting me know he found it amusing.
He walked over to the edge of the tub, sitting me down so I was perched on the edge. Keeping his hand on my waist, he reached over me to turn on the water. I wanted to cling to him and envelop myself in his warmth, so I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my face into his chest once again. He gave me a little squeeze before placing a kiss on top of my head and leaning back.
“I’ll be right back, okay?” he whispered. I nodded my head as he stepped away, leaving the bathroom. Immediately, I missed his warmth and wrapped my arms around myself. Not knowing what else to do, I looked around the bathroom, admiring the massiveness of it all before catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror. If I thought I had looked bad before, I was a disaster now. The nurse had gathered my hair back into a low ponytail, understanding my need for my hair to be out of my face, but also being mindful of the stitches. I pulled the ends in front of my shoulder, my fingers running over the streaks of dirt and dry blood speckled throughout.
The bruising on my face had gotten progressively worse, turning a dark red and purple. Standing up, I took a couple steps forward and carefully pulled the scrub top up slightly to look at my hip in the mirror. The top of a massive bruise that disappeared under my pants was beginning to form. I knew if I looked, there would be similar bruises on my thighs as well.
“Gwen…” Anthony’s voice came from behind me. Startled, I dropped my shirt and turned on my heel. His hands moved to brush away tears from my cheeks that I hadn’t realized had fallen. “Luce mia, you’re safe now.” I took a deep breath, leaning into his touch. I had gotten away. I was safe. “Let’s get you cleaned up, and then we’ll get you into some comfy clothes. Can I help you take these off?”
Panic rose in my chest, and I frantically shook my head. I didn’t want him to see. This was all too much. Hugging myself with my arms, I hang my head, avoiding Anthony’s eyes. “Gwen, talk to me, please.”
“The bruises… I… I… don’t,” I stammered, unable to even finish the thought.
“Luce mia, look at me,” Anthony said. I shook my head, but he didn’t accept that answer. Placing his hand on my chin, he gently lifted my head until I was looking at him. “Gwendalyn, those bruises do not define who you are. What defines you are the things you do every day, despite what you’ve been through. I may not know everything about you, but what I do know is that you are an incredible woman who has opened up her heart to my son, treated him with more love and respect than he has ever received, all because you believe there is good in everyone.” A few stray tears fell when I blinked up at him.
“Please, let me help,” he whispered, drying the wet trail left on my cheek with a swipe of his thumbs. His hands moved to the hem of my shirt and I pulled away. Every nerve in my body was screaming to run. But Anthony wasn’t forcing himself on me. He was relaxed, his eyes soft as he waited for my consent. I had gotten away. I was safe.
Closing my eyes, I stepped into his arms and focused on breathing, too scared to see his reaction to my body. My hands rested on his chest, focusing on the rise and fall of it once Anthony had maneuvered the top over my head. I forced my eyes closed even more when his fingers grazed my bruised hip. The lingering touches caused goosebumps to flood my skin. My jaw clenched as he quickly untied the scrub pants and let them fall to the floor.
I was anticipating words of disgust, a gasp, anything. Instead, warm hands cradled my face.
“You are beautiful, luce mia,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to mine. “Nothing will ever change that.” Anthony pulled away, and I opened my eyes, expecting sympathy. Relief washed over me when what I saw was along the lines of admiration.
He wasn’t lying. My heart pounded in my chest, not sure what to be feeling. His hands covered mine, pulling them to his lips to kiss my knuckles before he led me toward the bath. Carefully, I stepped into the water, letting my body adjust to the warmth of the water as it lapped at my calves.
Sitting down, I pulled my knees as close to my chest as possible before resting my chin on top of them. My shoulders tensed and my body trembled slightly as it adjusted to the water. Anthony grabbed a couple washcloths from under the sink and sat them on the edge of the tub before kneeling next to me. He gently worked the ponytail holder from my hair, being careful not to tug the stitches. My hair hung in clumps against my shoulders.
He reached for one of the washcloths, dunking it in the water and wringing it out. Carefully, he wiped away the evidence of last night from my hair, being mindful of the stitches. The knot in my stomach slowly unfurled as he worked, my eyes closing as the tension left my shoulders. I found it easy to just sit there in the warm water as he took care of me.
A comfortable silence fell over the room, the occasional sloshing of water when he cleaned out the washcloth the only sound. It was rarely this quiet in the house, even when Ollie was taking a nap. There was always something making noise.
Ollie…
It hit me that as much as I was enjoying this time with Anthony, it wouldn’t last forever. He was a father, and I was his nanny. We would have to talk about everything that had happened before Ollie came home. Wondering when that would be, I opened my eyes and lifted my head, turning to Anthony. “When do you have to go get Ollie?” I asked.
“He’s having a blast at Katie’s. I told him Ms. Gwen wasn’t feeling good, and HE told me that I needed to take care of you.” Anthony chuckled while my heart nearly exploded in my chest. “I think it’s for selfish reasons, of course. He knows you’re the fun one and if you can’t play, then he’s stuck with his boring dad.” The edges of my mouth curled up into a smile. That boy had my entire heart. I would do just about anything he asked of me.
“Let’s focus on you right now,” he muttered, the lightness in his eyes helping to settle the uncertainty I had been feeling moments ago. Anthony reached for the body wash in the corner of the tub. Putting some on the other washcloth, I was drawn to the bubbles forming as he rubbed the sides of it together. He cleared his throat, and I was looking at him again.
“I’ll be right back, okay? You wash up and I’ll knock when I get back.” He handed me the washcloth in his hand, then stood and flashed a small smile over his shoulder as he walked out of the bathroom.
This man… I didn’t have to ask, he just knew. Stretching out my legs, I looked down at my body and took in the full extent of the bruises. The one that started on my hip was larger than my hand. The ones on my inner thigh were smaller and spread out. A knot formed in my stomach and tears threatened the edges of my eyes again as I tried to scrub it away. I wanted it gone.
Logically, it didn’t make sense, but logic went out the window a long time ago. This wasn’t fair. I scrubbed harder, everything starting to numb as the adrenaline in my body took over, my heart beating faster and faster. The healthy skin around the bruise started to turn pink.
A soft knock barely registered in my mind while I continued scrubbing. The skin was red now, but the bruise was still there. I needed it gone.
Another knock followed by Anthony’s muffled voice on the other side of the door. “Gwen, can I come in?” I didn’t answer. The proof of last night was still on my body and I wanted it gone. The water was turning a light shade of pink now, but it still wasn’t enough.
The door creaked open and footsteps followed. “Gwen…” Anthony’s voice trailed off, my mind not registering what he was saying, even though he was right next to me. I knew what he must have been thinking. The tears falling from my cheeks into the water betrayed me. I wasn’t sad.
I was angry.
I was angry that I had to look at my body and have these bruises remind me of what happened. I just wanted to forget.
“Luce mia, stop!” A voice yelled, grabbing my wrist and yanking it away from my body. The anger in the voice paired with the tightening grasp caused my body to seize.
No, I wasn’t letting this happen again.
“Let go of me!” I screamed. I was in control. He may have taken that away from me before, but not this time. I whipped my head around, but it was Anthony crouched in front of me, not the masked attacker.
He released my wrist and sat back on his heels, putting a few inches between us. It was enough for my body to realize I wasn’t in danger. I hastily wiped away the stray tears from my cheeks, then met Anthony’s gaze. Regret washed over me at the sight of his furrowed brows and wide eyes. He had seen me through today and didn’t deserve my anger. My face relaxed, an apology forming on my lips.
“It’s okay,” Anthony said, not letting me get out the words. “I shouldn’t have touched you without your permission. I promise to never do it again.” I simply nodded my head, acknowledging his words, but unsure what to say.
“Can I help you get out?” Anthony offered, gesturing to the towel that was draped across his lap. Nodding my head, I left the washcloth on the tub spout, not bothering to wring it out. Anthony had the towel open in his arms with his forearm close to my body. I grabbed on, using it to steady myself as I stood. Stepping out of the tub, I turned away from him and wrapped the towel around myself, the warmth enveloping me, surprising but welcoming. It felt like it had been just taken out of the dryer and I silently wondered if it had.
I turned to thank him, but the words were stuck in my throat, the ones that let him know how much I appreciated him and everything he had done today. If it weren’t for him…
Tears burned the back of my eyes. Everything that I had been shoving down was rising to the surface. All the anger, disgust, fear, grief, shame; I no longer had the energy to keep it down.
“Luce mia…” Anthony hesitated, keeping his promise not to touch me without my permission. A sob escaped my throat as I threw myself at him, clinging to his shirt. Anthony wrapped his arms around me, while tears streamed down my face.
“I’ve got you… I’m right here…” he whispered into my hair. Sob after sob shook my body until it wasn’t enough. There was too much, and I was going to explode if I didn’t let it out.
A scream filled the bathroom. My scream.
But I didn’t stop. I screamed again. And again.
I screamed until my throat was raw and my body had gone completely numb. I screamed until Anthony’s hold on me was the only thing keeping me from crumpling to the floor. I screamed until my vision started to darken at the edges and I could no longer breathe.
“Gwen, sweetheart.” Anthony’s hushed voice broke through the haze that had settled over my mind. “I need you to take big, deep breaths with me.” He exaggerated his inhales and exhales, his chest rising and falling steadily under me, and rubbed my back in long strokes.
I took in several shaky breaths and slowly, the pins and needles in my face from the lack of oxygen disappeared. We continued like that for several minutes, Anthony showing no indication of wanting to let go. When I did finally lift my head off his chest, he looked down at me, a glazed over look in his eyes as if he had been trying to hold back his own tears.
“You are so strong, luce mia,” he whispered. “Stronger than you know. When you forget that, I will always be here to help hold you up.” He kissed the top of my head, sealing his promise. His body shifted and the next moment, he was carrying me from the bathroom to the bed.
Sitting me on the edge, he grabbed a shirt from beside me. He maneuvered it over my head and gently urged my arms through the sleeves before pulling it down over the towel that was still wrapped around my body. I was grateful for the coverage, feeling all too vulnerable. Grabbing the sweatpants next, my heart jumped when he knelt on one knee to lift my feet and legs into the holes. He shimmied them up to my knees before standing up and offering me his hands to help me up. Letting the towel fall to the floor, he pulled up the pants and tied them just below the bruise that was now surrounded by abrasions.
“I’ll be right back,” Anthony said, before retreating to the bathroom and returning with a clean washcloth and a small tube. He pointed to my hip when he spoke, “I want to dry it off and put on some antibiotic ointment, if that’s okay.”
“Yeah,” I whispered, lifting my shirt. Anthony kneeled in front of me and the air caught in my lungs. A strangled gasp leaving my lips when his calloused fingers gently spread the ointment along my skin. My heart nearly stopped beating at the sight of this man on his knees taking care of me. It was all too much. I would never be able to repay him.
When he was done, he stood to his full height, leaving everything in a pile with the towel. He looked down at me with an unasked question in his eyes, one I answered with a pleading look of my own. I swore he could hear my heart hammering in my chest when he rested his hands on either side of my face, placing a kiss on my forehead. “Thank you for letting me take care of you,” he whispered. My bones felt like lead as I leaned into his embrace. The need for sleep called me even though I knew it was barely evening.
Anthony must have felt the shift because he took my hands, guiding me into bed and I let him. Exhaustion was quickly pulling me under, and I was barely able to keep my eyes open. Anthony pulled the comforter up to my chin, just how I liked it, then brushed my hair behind my ear. “Sleep well, luce mia.”
He bent down, gathering the pile of discarded things, and turned to leave. Before he could step too far away, I reached out a hand to grab him. “Stay with me, please.”
A smile threatened the corner of his lips. He discarded the things in the bathroom, then crossed the room, turning off the light and closing the bedroom door before making his way onto the bed. He laid on top of the comforter that I was underneath, pulling up a blanket from the end of the bed to drape over his legs. I knew this was his way of giving me back some of the control that I had lost recently, and I was grateful to him. My eyes drifted closed and sleep easily claimed me.