Page 70 of Fix You
She was on her knees in the middle of the alley. Doubled over, her arms crisscrossed over her stomach as her body shook with sobs. Through her cries, I could vaguely make out her saying something.
I knelt down in front of her. Placing my hands on her shoulders, I questioned softly, “Maeve?”
She jerked her head up to stare at me with haunted eyes. “The guy…he said he wanted to own me…” She swallowed hard. “Oisin said when he fucked me, I was his. That heownedme.”
Unsure of what to say or do at that moment, I merely clenched my fists. I would’ve given anything to be able to resurrect Oisin O’Toole, so that I could torture him for days. Maybe even weeks. The darkest parts of hell were too good for the bastard for what he’d done to Maeve.
Black mascara-lined tears streaked down Maeve’s face. “He’s been dead over a year, but he still owns me.” A shudder rolled through her. “He’salwaysgoing to own me.”
Cupping her cheek, I argued, “No,Tesoro. He won’t. You just have to give yourself time.”
She slammed her fists onto the concrete so hard I winced. “It’s been a year. How much fucking time is it going to take?”
“I don’t know. You just have to be patient and let your mind catch up to your body.”
“I just want to be free!”
Just as I reached to draw her into my embrace, she threw her head back and screamed up at the sky. The keening sound sent the hair on the back of my neck rising. As long as I lived, I would never forget the sound. Its raw agony pierced through me like the jagged tip of a knife, shredding me to the core.
During torture sessions over the years, I’d seen psychotic breaks in countless men. I’d witnessed their hallucinations, delusions, and rapid nonsensical speech. The episodes would shell-shock the common onlooker. Never in my life had it affected me.
But seeing it in Maeve caused my chest to constrict, cutting off my air. My hands came to claw at my pecs to try to release some of the pressure. If I felt like this just witnessing her suffering, how was it possible for Maeve to endure?
When her last cry waned, the exertion of her screams pitched her forward. I threw my arms out to catch her before her face could hit the ground. She swayed in my arms for a moment before she lurched over to once again beat her fists on the concrete. “Maeve, stop! You’re hurting yourself!”
“It’s the only way to get the pain out. It’s choking me. Suffocating me.Killingme,” she wept.
I grabbed her wrists in my hands. Blood already streaked down her arms. Staring into her feral eyes, I pleaded, “Tesoro, you’ve got to stop. Please, my beautifulTesoro, it breaks my heart to see you hurt yourself.”
She blinked at me like she was seeing me for the first time since she’d exited the club. Furrowing her brows, she asked, “What are you calling me?”
“Tesoromeans darling or treasure.”
“Am I your darling?”
Although I knew I should answer differently, I couldn’t help but say, “Yes, you are.”
“But why? I’m no treasure–I’m a shattered, jagged mess.”
Letting go of her wrists, I cupped her cheeks. “You are none of those things. Yes, you are wounded, but you’re not defeated. Fuck, Maeve, you’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met.”
At the sound of someone behind us, I whirled around. Milos stood wide-eyed and white as a sheet. He’d seen some toughshit in his time as a bodyguard, so his reaction to Maeve was surprising.
He cleared his throat at my expectant look. “The car is waiting, sir.”
“Thank you.”
Concern radiated in his eyes as he stared at Maeve. “Should I drive us to the hospital?”
“No! No hospitals!” Maeve protested.
“Okay,Tesoro. No hospitals.”
“Then the Kavanaugh residence?” Milos asked.
Maeve furiously shook her head from side to side. “Please, Rafe, Mam…my brothers.” She swallowed hard. “They can’t see me like this.”
Deep down, I knew that. Although I was aware it had the potential to kick up a hornet’s nest, I said, “Take us to my hotel.”