68. DELE
Chapter 68
DELE
Her sad laugh rings in my ear like a siren, piercing my eardrum. The sound echoes through my body, signaling the undesirable fate I’m about to encounter.
“The guys that will make you disappear, of course,” she snickers. “Fuck, if I care where they take you, long as I don’t know, and you’re no longer my fucking problem,” she states casually with a shrug.
“Please, don’t do this. I’ll ask Luke for a divorce,” I plead, even as my heart breaks at the thought of doing that. She returns an evil laugh.
“Like I’m going to believe you, lying bitc—” A loud bang, and light breaks through. Men in armor gear rush into the room. They quickly restrain Lily, and Luke rushes in, dressed like the men, and comes to hug me as another cuts the zip ties.
“I’m so sorry, Ayo mi.” His voice cracks as he whispers in my ear. Relief rushes through my being. I break into a barrel of tears that fall uncontrollably. As soon as the ties are cut, I leap into his arms, crying. He carries me out to the car. I hang on tight to him, my face buried in his chest. He’s here. He saved me.
“I’m so sorry, my love,” he says repeatedly. There’s a medical team waiting outside. They check on me as I hold on tight to Luke, my lifeline, my comfort, and my safety.
“Any pain?” the medic asks. I shake my head. They clean my bloody nose and busted lips and check for any bruises or breaks on me.
“We can take her to the hospital for a more thorough check-up, but she looks fine.” I shake my head and grip his hand tight with all my strength.
“No, she’s going home, and if anything changes, we’ll come to the hospital.” Luke answers.
He wraps his arm around me, and we head to the car. I can’t stop crying. Our drive is taking forever. We pull up to the basement. I’m still clinging to Luke for dear life on the elevator ride to our home. I cling tight to him. Once in our unit, he takes off my shoes and scrubs. In just my underwear, he carries me to our bathroom and places me on the bathroom countertop. I wrap my arms around myself, tears still flowing. He turns on the water, grabs my shower cap, wraps my hair up, and covers it with the cap. Then he removes his gear down to his boxers and comes to get me off the countertop. He removes my bra and underwear, then leads me into the shower. I sit on the tiled floor, and he takes his time washing and inspecting my body for injury. I wince when he tries to wash my face, and I see his scowl and anger even as he tries to hide it. Once he’s done cleaning me up, he wraps himself in a towel, gets me out, and wraps me in a towel to dry me off. After tossing the wet towel, he rubs me down with my cream. Grabbing the t-shirt I’d left on the hook this morning, he puts it on me and leads me back to our room. Tucking me in bed, he kisses my forehead.
“Are you hungry?” I shake my head. “Go to sleep; I’ll stand guard and watch over you.” I nod and close my eyes.