Page 12 of Unbroken

She pressed her forehead to his chest and shook her head. “I don’t want to see him.”

“You don’t have to,” he said fiercely as the ambulance pulled onto the scene. “You just keep your eyes on me. Okay?”

Her head moved against his throat, and a little flicker of regret moved through him as he stepped up next to the medic. They already had the stretcher out and ready to go. They would need to treat all of her wounds and probably get an IV started, judging from the looks of her.

He gently lay her down, then stepped back.

“Wait!”

Her eyes flew to him, and one arm shot out in his direction.

“Don’t leave.”

“Okay.” He started to reach for her hand, then stopped, not wanting to hurt her further. He rested his hand on the gurney next to her. “I’m right here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Her chest rose and fell on a deep breath, and she gave a little nod. As he climbed into the ambulance behind them, his own words reverberated in his mind, and a strange feeling welled up inside him. Protectiveness, but something else. Something stronger.

He battled it down, shoving it to the back of his mind.

His gaze fell to her hands resting gently over her abdomen, and his stomach twisted at the sight. Rage simmered in his veins as he took in the raggedly torn nails, the battered, bloody flesh. He swore with every fiber of his being that Wainwright would pay for hurting her.

CHAPTER

TEN

Maya tipped her head back against the mound of pillows and let out a sigh. Ever since she’d been admitted to the hospital yesterday afternoon, it had been a whirlwind of activity. Her mom and dad had both stopped in to see her, but their visits had been more exhausting than comforting.

Divorced since she was four, her parents were the epitome of dysfunctional. Both had remarried, and she had five step-siblings, none of whom had come to visit her. Not that she minded. That was more than she wanted to deal with at the moment.

Her mother was always super dramatic, and somehow she managed to turn every situation around and make it about herself. Her father, after making sure she wasn’t mortally wounded, had lectured her on the importance of paying closer attention to her surroundings.

A little over half an hour ago, she had feigned sleep, and they had both finally left her in blessed silence. She turned her head and stared out the window. She couldn’t sleep. Over the past twenty-four hours, she had probably slept for a total of thirty minutes.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him. She could feel his arms coming around her outside the coffee shop, choking off her air. She smelled the dank mildew of the cellar, saw the bloodstained mattress in the corner.

A shiver racked her body, and her fingers clenched the thin white blanket that covered the bed. Thank God the police had shown up when they did. Had they arrived even a few minutes later, she likely would’ve been back in the cellar… Or dead. She wasn’t entirely sure which would have been worse.

Two quick knocks came from the door, and her heart jumped into her throat as she snapped her head in that direction. Aiden stood outlined in the doorway, looking slightly uneasy.

“May I come in?”

Maya drew in a deep breath to settle her heart. “Of course.”

He moved to the chair next to the bed, never tearing his eyes from her. “How are you feeling?”

She lifted one shoulder. “Fine.”

“This isn’t an interview.” He lifted a hand and reached for her. Suspended in midair, just inches away, he froze. She saw his gaze linger on the bandages that had been wrapped around her hands, protecting her damaged fingers. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the movement.

“It’s okay,” she said softly.

He shook his head but didn’t say anything else for several seconds. He seemed lost in thought, and her stomach twisted with apprehension as she waited for him to break the tense silence.

He looked… furious. Nothing like the man she’d met at the coffee shop several mornings ago. He hadn’t even looked like that yesterday when he’d pulled her into his arms to protect her.

Her gaze followed his movements as he finally settled his hand on the bed right next to her forearm. She stared at it, a dozen emotions rocketing through her. Relief that he hadn’t touched her. Disappointment for the same reason.

It was irrational, but a huge part of her wanted to feel his skin on hers. She wanted the comfort and compassion. She wanted to feel as safe as she had yesterday when he’d carried her to the ambulance to keep from further damaging her feet.