Chapter 8
Chapter
Eight
“How about we go for a walk around the grounds? It’s finally stopped snowing,” Thunder suggested as he leaned his shoulder against the door jamb to the woman’s room.
She never closed the door, he’d quickly noted that and made sure that any room they went into, he kept the doors wide open. To her, closed doors probably felt like being locked in, she needed the visual reminder that she was free, just like she’d needed to sit on him yesterday afternoon.
When she’d suddenly freaked out, he hadn't known what to do to help. One second, she’d been sitting staring out the window, the next she was on the floor, positioning her body the same way she’d been lying when he first found her.
It hadn't taken him long to realize she was having a flashback. But knowing what was wrong and knowing how to fix it weren't the same thing. Although he’d kept talking to her, hoping his voice would help ground her, it hadn't seemed to work.
Then she jumped to her feet and started pawing at his waistband.
Thinking she believed she was back in that cage and that it was Dr. Gardner standing over her, of course, he’d tried to stop her.
Because she wouldn't or maybe couldn’t speak, they had no idea what the man had done to her, and he wasn't going to let her touch him when she didn't really want to.
Only she had wanted to.
Needed to even.
As soon as she met his gaze, and let him see that need shining through, he stopped fighting against it. Somehow, he understood she wasn't asking for sex, she was asking for the only way she knew people interacted.
It was becoming more and more clear to him that she’d been young when she was taken. And if she’d still been a kid, she’d never learned how to be an adult. All she knew of adults was sex, so it probably wasn't a great shock that she’d chosen such a method to calm herself.
And it had worked. As soon as he was buried inside her, her eyelids began to droop, and she curled into him and promptly fallen asleep. Slept for hours, long after he’d grown soft, but he hadn't moved her, allowing her to seek comfort the way she chose, because she deserved that right.
It wasn’t like it was a hardship for him either to have a beautiful woman on his lap, one he respected, liked, was attracted to, one he’d been working hard to show she could trust, and who had given him the most precious gift when she sought his comfort.
Even though she’d been embarrassed when she’d woken up, he’d made it clear that she had no reason to be. She was in charge of what she needed, and he’d told her several times that he was there for her, whatever she wanted from him, he’d gladly give her.
Now he wanted to give her the freedom to enjoy some fresh air.
At his suggestion, her eyes lit up. It hadn't taken a genius to figure out that she hadn't been outside much, if at all, since she was abducted and sold. The way she kept sitting near a window, staring longingly out, made that pretty clear.
“Make sure you rug up, it’s still cold out. You should have everything you need in your wardrobe,” he told her, then left her alone to get herself ready.
He’d barely made it back downstairs and into a coat before she clambered down the stairs to join him.
Dressed in a coat, beanie, scarf, mittens, and boots, with her jeans and sweater, she looked adorable.
She’d also twisted her hair into two braids that hung down her back, and he liked seeing her enthusiasm for something as simple as a walk outside, even as it made him sad that it was something she’d obviously been denied for a long time.
Outside, he wandered slowly. They weren't walking anywhere in particular, just enjoying the winter sunshine. It wouldn’t be long now until the snow began to melt and the flowers bloomed.
The promise of spring, of fresh, new beginnings was in the air, but would this woman still be there when the days grew warmer, and new life began to sprout?
Because he didn't like thinking about her leaving, he talked to her about the grounds, anything to fill the silence, and he couldn’t deny that he hoped sooner or later he might be able to get her to say something back to him.
“None of us are gardeners, so most of the land is wild,” he said as they headed for the trees.
The house was set in a clearing, even though nobody knew where they lived, and they had their enhanced skills and a top-of-the-line security system, which gave them a last line of defense. No one could approach the house without being spotted.
“There’s a vegetable garden we’ve been planting, and an orchard, too. In a few years, we should be able to grow most of what we eat, even with four more mouths to feed since Rose, Cassandra, Whitney, and Indigo moved in.”
While he’d love to add that they'd have more than enough to feed her as well if she chose to say, he resisted that temptation. It didn’t matter how many times he reminded himself that her stay was temporary, Thunder couldn’t stop wishing it wasn't.
“We have a river that runs through the property, a small waterfall, too. The girls can't wait for the summer so they can go swimming. Even though we’ve lived here for six years now, we’ve never bothered going for summer swims in the river, but this summer …”
This summer, everything was different.
This summer, they weren't hiding away, consumed by a need to find the man responsible for what had been done to them and make him suffer for it.
This summer, they didn't believe themselves to be monsters without consciences or lacking the ability to feel emotions normally.
This summer, they were looking to the future instead of miring themselves in a past they’d never be able to escape.
This summer, they were free.
As though sensing the turn his thoughts had taken, the woman stepped closer to him, her fingers curling around his and giving a quick squeeze before dropping away again.
She’d reached out to him, offered comfort, bit by bit she was accepting her new reality, and he wanted that for her so badly it hurt.
They were all free of Dr. Gardner now. Him and his team, this woman with no name, Rose, Whitney, and Indigo. They might still want the scientist dead, but the hold the man had once had on them was weakening by the day.
By the minute.
“If you're still here when the weather is hot enough, maybe you can go swimming with us,” he suggested, and he expected not to get an answer, but the woman gave a slow nod, like she was considering the idea.
As they walked, Thunder continued to talk, and as he talked, he watched the woman. Her eyes were still wide, as though she was overwhelmed trying to take everything in. Since she didn't have any panic attacks, he had to assume that she was overwhelmed in a good way.
The more they walked, the more he noticed her hands.
Each time they stopped when she wanted to get a closer look at something, the way the water sparkled on the stream, the snow piled on the branches of a fir tree, a robin that paused to sing to them, her hands began to move. It was almost as though she was drawing what she was seeing.
Was his girl an artist?
Thunder had been wanting a way to help her communicate with them, and it was clear she wasn't ready to speak yet. They’d offered her an iPad that she could type on, it was even set up to read out what she’d written, but she’d shied away from the idea.
This could be a way to reach her.
At the back of his mind, he couldn’t forget the fact that the woman might have valuable intel on Dr. Gardner, might even know where the man had disappeared to when he’d fled the island. As much as he wanted that intel if it existed, he didn't want it more than he wanted a way to reach this woman.
Wanted a way to connect with her.
When they finished their walk, he was going to play out his hunch and get one of the guys to drive into town and purchase every pencil, paint pot, paintbrush, easel, and canvas they could find.
If this was a way to draw his girl out of her mind, help her reconnect with the world around her, strengthen the tentative bond that was building between them, then he was going to jump all in with it.
And if it wound up leading her back to her old life and away from him, he’d deal with that when it happened. But right now, bringing some joy to his girl was the only thing he cared about. Sacrificing his own wants was nothing compared to making her smile.
February 28 th
6:12 P.M.
As she toweled off her wet hair, Maya realized with a start that she’d been humming.
Humming .
Actually, making a sound.
And not a cry of pain.
Even though she’d kept her screams and begging to herself for a long time now, refusing to give them to Master even though she sometimes got punished for it, the last sounds she’d made were horrible, terrified shrieks that were more animal than human.
Sounds that she never wanted to make again.
Never wanted cause to make again.
If you’d asked her a week ago if she would ever make a sound again, Maya would have emphatically shaken her head. There had been no doubt in her mind that remaining mute was the best choice for her.
Even after she’d been rescued and taken to the mansion, she hadn't intended on opening her mouth and speaking.
It was hard to explain because it didn't really make sense, not even to herself, but she had quite literally had zero control over her body and what was done to it for thirteen seemingly endless years. The only things she had been able to control were her mind and voice, and she’d decided to keep both for herself and had been happy with that decision.
Now she felt safe enough to hum.
Some mindless tune, it wasn't really anything at all, and she hadn't even realized she was doing it at first.
There was only one reason she felt safe enough to lower her barriers just a teeny tiny little bit.
That reason was Thunder.