Chapter 33
THIRTY-THREE
Emma’s had nightmares from the very first day I pointed that gun at her in the bank and pushed her beautiful ass into my truck.
It’s always been a constant, something I knew was coming every time she put her head on the pillow.
Her mind is a lot of things, most of them sweet and good.
But damn, does it hold on to fear and trauma with a death grip, only to serve it back to her at night like it’s got some kind of vendetta to fill.
Who needs enemies when your own head is the worst kind of villain?
Obviously we knew it would be intensely worse when we got them home. Okay, home is a stretch. We’re back at the cabin we first brought Bo and Emma to, which isn’t technically anyone’s home, but it is something. It’s familiar, and it’s safe.
Landon’s still MIA, but that will be rectified once I can focus. There’s no way that pussy is going to dare come out of hiding after what went down.
So we’re okay here, for now. The biggest enemy we have to fight is the impact of what happened and so far the fallout has been all encompassing. Of course it has; I’ve worked with survivors long enough to know that every single one of them deals in different ways, and there’s no set time line.
The experience hits very different, though, when it’s the woman you love who struggles. I’ve seen what happens to sexual assault victims when they don’t navigate the demons in their heads.
Look at Lily. I cannot fail another one of my girls again.
The first night with her back here is burned into my mind as one of the single most heartbreaking times of my life.
Each moment of the drive, of laying eyes on Bo, was a knife to my fucking chest. Medical staff was on site at the cabin, one of the wives of a member who routinely does medical check ups on our survivors when we find them.
It was too much work for one person, so we tried to assist however we could.
We forbid any man from giving them their exams, obviously. So many of the wives and daughters of our group members volunteer to receive training on how to help with their care. With the volume of victims freed on this raid, it was all hands on deck.
On top of that, Emma and Bo have refused to be separated since getting here, so we had the doctor meet with them together in Bo’s former room.
If I was a better man, I wouldn’t have listened to the conversation from my camera room. Unfortunately for Bundy and Eric, I need to know what they put Emma and Bo through, so that I can make sure the punishment does indeed fit the fucking crime.
But I wait patiently by the door when the doctor exits, pulling the gloves from her hands and looking up warily at me. It looks like I've been waiting here for updates, instead of listening with blood pounding in my ears at the devastation that Emma detailed.
Bo remained mostly silent. I’m worried for him in a different way.
“Well?” I ask, and she sniffs. I’ve known her for years, and Mary is as tough as they come. But her heart melts for the victims and she’s the best care I can provide for them.
She raises a brow at me, asking if I’m ready to hear the full story and I nod sharply.
“Emma’s tears should heal on their own in a few weeks.
I’m leaving ice packs and antibiotic ointment for swelling,” she says, narrowing her eyes when my jaw clenches.
“Noah, you better be extremely calm when you go in there. Can you hear this or should I go talk to someone else?”
I shake my head, rolling my shoulders back. “No, sorry. Okay, I can help her with that.”
“Good. Bo refused a physical, okay? But if he’s dealing with the same injuries, I’ve left extra supplies.
He’s also been wrapped for what I believe are bruised ribs, but if you can talk him into coming down to the clinic I can do an X-ray to confirm.
If he shows any signs of weakening, please call me back over.
They’ve both been given STD treatment, we can give them tests again in a few weeks.
Emma’s been given emergency contraceptives, but based on her cycle it’s a low chance of fertility the past week.
” She chews on her lip, checking her bag.
“Um, I did wound care for their cuts and for Emma’s… bite marks.”
My body tightens but I try to hide the way my head turns into a goddamn animal.
“I’ll be honest, Bo is showing signs of a concussion, so if you can manage to keep him in bed, please do so.”
“I can do that.”
“The most important thing you can do for them right now is get them to talk to one of the psychologists. They both desperately need rest. Emma asked for a sleep aid tonight and fuck it, I gave it to her. Bo’s too weak to bathe himself, but he needs one if he’ll let you help.”
“Thank you, Mary,” I say, and she studies my eyes for a moment before zipping up her jacket and adjusting her bag. “We’ll see you in a few weeks.”
“Call if they need anything at all, Noah. I’m serious.”
“I know,” I say quietly, looking at the door that separates me from them. Her footsteps fade and disappear out the front door as I hesitate there.
She’d clung to me before, a broken mess of a woman that I’d scooped off the bed and cradled like loosening my grip might mean she’d slip through it somehow. Gone again like smoke, the way they’d been taken from me before.
They need solid. Our presence, our dedication to helping them, our love. It needs to be constant and tangible and unshakeable.
No better time than the present.
Pressing the door open, I take in the shadowed room.
Night’s fallen around the chaotic revolving door of people in and out of the cabin.
The room’s back to basics, a dresser and a bed, save for Molly’s cat tree.
She purrs, perched at the top like we never left this place.
Her eyes haven’t left Emma since I carried her through the front door.
Mary’s sleep aid must have been stronger than she let on because Emma’s eyes flutter from the bed as she struggles to keep them open.
Bo curls behind her, arm thrown over her middle and sandwiching them against the wall.
Those puppy eyes of his are all sadness, overflowing with the pain that makes my throat tighten.
His hand twitches back, like the possessive position they’re in might upset me. I shake my head, and he settles. As if I’d ever take away this small comfort from them.
“Em?” I ask, and she blinks heavily up at me. Her arm reaches for mine and I move to the edge of the bed, brushing back her hair as it falls into her face. Careful to avoid the bruising, the lacerations.
The bite mark stands out on her shoulder and my hands turn to fists.
“Sit with me for a minute,” she says, though it sounds almost like a question. Like I might not want to.
“Scoot, Bo,” I say, and they shuffle over to make room for me to slide under the blanket.
Emma sighs, those strawberry blonde eyelashes fluttering against her cheek. “This feels too good to be true.”
“What, baby?” I ask as she nuzzles my chest. Burrowing like she had when I found her. Disappearing into me.
“Safety. I just know with all of us here, we’ll be okay now.”
Her voice is soft, her cheek pressed to my chest and her hand draped loosely around the arm Bo has over her. She couldn’t be more cherished. More loved.
Her breathing evens in mere seconds and I hope the safety carries over into her dreamland. That we could avoid the nightmares for just one fucking night.
Bo watches me and Mary’s right. The light in his eyes is off, the long curls of his hair hardened with God knows what.
I know from the surveillance we were able to obtain that Bo put himself in harm's way over and over again to save Emma even a second of pain.
The evidence of it is heavy on his body and in the hesitant look he gives me.
I hate it.
Reaching over, my hand weaves into the brown waves, pushing it back from his haunted eyes. Like a dog that’s been kicked too many times, he flinches but refuses to look away.
“You kept her safe.” It’s a simple acknowledgement and doesn’t do any justice with the sacrifice he made.
His eyes drop to her and that understanding between us doesn’t need to be spoken. Bo’s love for Emma runs a lot deeper than that of a friend. Maybe it had been explored a little before, but shallowly. Now, after this? Maybe the pain just clarified what they have with each other.
“I’m grateful she had you there with her, Bo.
” My hand runs under his jaw, lifting his face to look back up at me.
He does, swallowing as if he could break from my touch alone.
Teeth sink into his bottom lip and seem to shake at the effort of keeping his emotions shoved as deeply as he can get them.
“But I’m so fucking sorry you had to be. ”
A silent tear betrays him, running down his nose and cutting across his face to the pillow, covered by Emma’s tangle of hair. Still, he says nothing.
But that’s okay. Jesse will be back in the morning with Bo’s things, with Emma’s and Molly’s collected items. We’ll get them the help they need, help him learn how to clean himself while his own wounds heal. With all of us together again, we can figure it out.
His weak voice is unsure, somehow hollow. “Some things aren’t meant to be survived, I don’t think.”
Shaking my head, I tighten my grip on the back of his head, pulling it toward mine. My lips meet the top of his hair and he starts shaking under my touch. “Well, this is, Bo. This fucking is, you hear me?”
He finally breaks, a wet wracking sob into the space between us, before he tries to quiet the sound. And that’s how we pass the night. Him holding Emma, clinging to her like she’s the answer to his grief, and me gripping him like he might just off himself if I let go for a second.
The nightmares stay away, and though we’re exhausted when the sun rises, we made it through Hell to get to that next dawn.