Page 17 of Blade

My heart aches for whatever she’s been through, and I vow to protect her from every damn thing from this day forward.

Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I find a deep well of peace and calm I didn’t know existed. It’s all because of Sonya, and now she needs to draw from my strength. She can have it all.

“You’re safe,” I whisper to the terrified, trembling woman.

“No,” comes her shaky response.

“Where are you, baby?” I hope if she’s talking to me, she can tell me what’s going on in her head so I can bring her back.

“Kitchen,” she murmurs. “Father will b-be here s-soon.” Her breath catches in her throat, and the fear in her blue eyes is palpable.

“What are you afraid of?”

Another shiver runs down her spine, but she keeps her back straight and her limbs pressed against the wall.

“If I keep my back against the wall like an obedient daughter, maybe he won’t use the belt.” She’s talking more to herself than me, but I don’t care as long as she’s talking. I hate what I’ve heard so far.

“Do you have to stand against the wall often?”

“It’s n-not so b-bad,” she whispers, hardly able to get the words out. “After a while, all the muscle aches blend together, and I go numb.”

I grit my teeth and look up at the ceiling, trying to rein in my anger at her father. “And if you slip out of position? Or get tired and collapse?” I almost don’t want to know the answer.

“I just have to get through the sermon,” she suddenly says.

“Sermon?”

“My father has to tell me what I did wrong and punish me accordingly. He’s trying to save my soul.”

Not this fucking bullshit. I’m fine with having faith and following a religion, but not when it’s used to manipulate, gaslight, and abuse its members. If this is the god Sonya’s father believes in, then I want nothing to do with it.

“Sonya, your father isn’t here. He’s not coming,” I say soothingly.

“He’s… not?”

“No, baby. You’re safe right here with me.”

“Safe?”

The way she says it, like she’s never even considered it a possibility, breaks me. I reach toward her, moving slowly and giving her plenty of time to pull away. Thankfully, she doesn’t. Sonya allows me to take her hands in mine. I squeeze her delicate fingers gently, still kneeling in front of her and trying to make myself as unintimidating as possible.

“Look at me, Sonya,” I murmur, coaxing her to give me her eyes.

She blinks a few times, then trains her gaze on mine.

“That’s it. Do you know who I am?”

Her eyes are still a little unfocused, but I see more awareness flooding into her blue gaze.

Sonya blinks again, this time recognizing me.“Blade,” she whispers. “Oh, my god. I’m… I’m… I’m so sorry,” she chokes.

I can’t fucking stand it anymore. I gently pull her forward, and Sonya follows, letting out a heart-wrenching sob as she collapses into my lap. I wrap my arms around her and cradle my woman against my chest, absorbing her tears and painful memories.

We stay like that for long moments, Sonya clinging to me while I rock her back and forth and press my lips to the top of her head, breathing her in. Fuck if this doesn’t feel like my new purpose in life.

CHAPTERSEVEN

SONYA