CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
MADDOX
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“I JUST WANT to sleep.” Kyra turns over and curls back into a ball.
It’s been three days.
She tried to go back into the guest bedroom—her cell—the first night I brought her home. I pulled her against my chest and gripped her face. “Kyra, you aren’t my prisoner anymore.”
“I know, I just...I just want to go back to how it was.”
Fucking hell.
“What did he do to you?” I demanded.
She shut down and wouldn’t talk, but I knew.
Deep down, I knew.
Finally, she let me take her into my bedroom and take off the remainder of her dress. We stepped into the shower together, where I washed every single inch of her.
Except between her legs.
Goddamn that fucking asshole.
“You need to eat, sweetheart,” I say now, sitting on the bed and placing a hand on her hip.
“I can’t,” Kyra whispers. “I feel sick. I’m sorry.”
My eyes dart around the room helplessly. I thought she might need one or two nights, but she’s not opening up. I, of all people, know you don’t bounce back after...after.
I love this woman, but if she isn’t happy here, then I need to do what is right for her.
So, I ask the one question I don’t want to ask—one of them at least.
“Do you want to go home?”
Silence.
Instead of responding, Kyra rolls onto her back and throws a hand over her eyes. When she glances back, I can barely read the emotion within them. Like she’s completely shutting down. “Do you want me to leave?”
The hell?
“No. Fuck no.” I cry. “I want to help you. I want...damn it. I know you need time, but this is killing me, Kyra.”
Tears pool in her eyes and I rip her from the bed, pulling her again my chest.
I have no idea what to do here. Unless she wants to talk, all I can do is love her and be patient. Something I’m absolutely shit at. But if it takes half a lifetime, I’ll do it.
Whatever she wants.
“I can’t say it, Maddox. You’ll...hate me. Be disgusted. I can’t, Maddox,” she says through her tears.
I freeze.
She thinks I’d be disgusted?
For the first time in my life, I feel sadness rip through me and my eyes fill.
“Oh, fuck baby,” I say, releasing my hold on her and looking directly into her eyes. “Never. I promise.”
That’s when I know it’s time to tell my story.