Page 5 of Rehabilitated

Russo holds up his hands, hovering over me on the bed. “What’s your name?”

I debate lying, but something stops me from doing that. “Ever.”

“Ever,” he repeats softly, like a caress.

I study the giant, taking in his thick mahogany hair, muscles, and kind brown eyes. I haven’t been around many people in my life, but somehow, I know that finding someone as attractive as him is rare.

He passes me a water bottle. I take it greedily, twisting the cap off and chugging the entire contents.

Russo watches me, looking pained at my obvious dehydration. “I’ll get you more.”

He disappears again before I can reply.

My mind struggles to come up with a plan. Where did he say I was? Something Falls?

He returns quickly and passes me another water. I take it, smiling slightly as I open the bottle and take a sip.

“You said Night Grove Falls? Is that close to Marsh Hollow?”

I wonder if he can hear the fear in my voice. If he can, he doesn’t let on.

“Yeah, we’re about a half hour drive north of there.”

Panic sets in. I’m not far enough away. They could still find me.

“What happened to you, Ever?” Russo asks, dragging a chair closer to the bed so he can sit.

I hesitate, weighing how much to tell him. For some reason, I trust Russo. I don’t think he’d hurt me. If he wanted to, he wouldn’t have brought me into his home and had a doctor look me over. He wouldn’t be so gentle with me right now.

Maybe he can help me. It would be nice to have someone to lean on for once.

“My home life hasn’t been… great,” I finish lamely.

A muscle pops in his cheek.

“I was adopted, and I wasn’t the kid they wanted me to be, I guess.”

“What does that mean? Did your family do this to you?” he demands, leaning forward in the chair.

I ease away from him, from the overpowering energy rolling off him.

Russo seems to sense my nervousness. He scrubs his hands down his face, his expression regretful. “I’m sorry, I’m not upset with you. I would never hurt you, Ever.”

I nod and blow out a shaky breath before continuing. “They were always strict, but things got worse when I was five. They’d hit me, lock me away. I could never seem to do anything right. I cooked and cleaned, but it was never clean enough for them. I tried.” My eyes burn with tears.

“Fuck, Ever.” Russo stands and pulls me against his chest. He smells like pine and smoke.

I close my eyes, letting him hold me. “I thought I’d be able to get out when I turned eighteen,” I whisper, “But that didn’t happen. So I made a plan.”

“To escape?”

I nod against his soft shirt. “Yeah. It was hard. They didn’t let me out of the basement often, but the other night they forgot to lock the door when they went to church. I waited until I was sure they were really gone, and then I took off. I ran, but I was so weak. They’d used the belt on me before they left, and⁠—”

“Jesus,” he snarls.

I tense, trying to pull away, but Russo holds firm, his big paw of a hand smoothing up and down my back as he reassures me.

“I’m sorry. I’m furious about what your parents did to you. I’m sorry you’ve had to go through all of that, baby.”