Total pages in book: 206
Estimated words: 192184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 961(@200wpm)___ 769(@250wpm)___ 641(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 192184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 961(@200wpm)___ 769(@250wpm)___ 641(@300wpm)
I started to feel like I was sinking into sleep against him but then he nudged me to let him out. I leaned forward. “We’re both washed clean, okay?” he said.
I looked back over my shoulder at him. By the look on his face I think he saw this as monumental, almost like a baptism, for both of us. I nodded slowly. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. My heart ached, thinking about him coming to get me, about him saving me.
I pulled the plug and watched the bubbles and water go down the drain while he dried himself off and then put a fluffy white towel around his waist.
“Hungry, thirsty?” he asked.
I shook my head.
He left the room and I got out, dried off, and then went to the sink. I found a box of new toothbrushes under the sink, along with toothpaste and mouthwash. The tears came back and I cried softly as I washed my mouth out. I wondered if I’d ever forget that horrible man’s taste for the rest of my life. Just thinking about it made bile rise and I started retching and then vomiting in the sink. I knew it was loud, so loud that if Tommy was in the bedroom still, he’d be listening to this. It was like my stomach was trying to turn itself inside out.
When it finally stopped, I brushed my teeth and rinsed with mouthwash again and again and again, until my mouth was burning from all of it. I spent…I don’t know how long… rinsing, gagging, coughing, rinsing, spitting, gagging and choking some more. I towel dried my hair for a few minutes before my arms started to ache and then I stepped out into the bedroom. It was dark but I could see that Tommy was in the bed on his usual side, facing my direction. I sat on the edge, dropped the towel and climbed in beside him. He sat up and pulled a clean-smelling t-shirt over my head, then once my arms were in the holes, he passed me an opened bottle of water and said, “Drink.”
I drank about half of it and then put the bottle down on the table beside the bed. He immediately pulled me to his chest and held me tight. I felt his hands in my hair and his lips on my forehead. I touched his cheek and it felt wet. Was it from the bath? I felt a drip hit my finger. Oh my God…he was shedding tears for me.
I started to cry again and he held me tighter, “What did they do to you, baby? Tell me. Then you’ll never have to talk about it again.” His voice sounded a bit strangled.
There were no tears left in my burning eyes and my throat hurt from all the sobbing and throwing up. He waited, rubbing his hand up and down my back and then he squeezed my shoulder reassuringly.
After what felt like forever, I finally gained enough composure to speak. “The guy who drove the car from your house, he forced himself into my... my...m-mouth. Earl shot him for it before the guy could f-finish.” I felt him tense up but he didn’t say anything. He just squeezed me tighter. “It happened just before they drove me to you. That’s the only…the only thing,” I finished off.
“No one, no one will ever, ever again…” he started and it sounded like he was saying it through gritted teeth. But he didn’t finish; he just pulled me even tighter against him.
I fell asleep on top of him, our bodies pressed together, and for the first time he wasn’t hard, wasn’t plotting one of his games to get inside of me. Rescuing me, cradling me, washing the filth off me, holding me while I cried, and shedding tears for me – that got him inside of me in a different way.
When I woke, I jackknifed up, out of breath. Then I realized where I was.
Well, I didn’t know where I was, exactly, but he was still beside me, so I settled down.
He was lying there looking at me. He pulled me to him and his mouth touched the top of my head. He looked exhausted, like he still hadn’t even slept. He still looked rough, too, with the shiner I’d given him, bruised lip, and the scratches still on his face.
I settled my head against his chest and closed my eyes, trying to tell my heart to settle down. The sun was up and the room was filled with light. I looked around. It was a pretty bedroom with a white ruffled lace bedspread on the white wicker framed double bed. The white room kind of went with last night’s whole baptismal theme. The only splash of color was a vase of fresh pink, yellow, and orange daisy-like flowers on the wicker dresser and a big green empty rucksack beside a black suitcase opened and sitting on a big, wicker rocking chair. I could see it was filled with my clothes and his clothes. I closed my eyes and focused on the steadiness of his heartbeat, feeling strange, feeling cared for.