Page 29 of Unlocked

“Um, a razor?” She peeks up at me shyly. I reach back into the drawer and pull out a new disposable razor. Under the sink, I get the shaving cream Daisy had recommended, placing both items in her hands. She stares at them before bursting out in laughter. “You just seem to have everything, don’t you?”

“A SEAL is always prepared.” I chuckle. “Now, if there’s nothing else, I’ll leave you to it…unless you need some assistance.” Her face flushes again, but to my disappointment, she shakes her head. I nod and leave the bathroom. As much as I want to say close by, I know she needs her privacy, right now, after what she’s endured. I head out to clean up the kitchen while she’s getting ready.

I’m just finishing loading the dishwasher when my phone rings. I pull it from my back pocket, checking the caller id to see it’s Luke calling. I suppose I should have known he’d be calling sooner or later.

“Yo!” I answer on the third ring.

“How’s Shelby?” Luke asks, not bothering with pleasantries.

“Better than I expected,” I respond. “She had a couple of nightmares during the night, but calmed easily. We’ve had breakfast, and she’s in the shower, right now. How is Marley?”

“Same as Shelby.” Luke’s voice sounds tired. “She’d just gotten to a good place when all this has happened again. She’s such a strong woman determined not to let this stop her.” I expected no less. I know after the first time Marley had beentaken she is resilient. She’d struggled for a while. We could all see how hard she and Luke had been grappling with how to handle Marley’s trauma, but they have been able to overcome it. I have no doubt they will again.Will Shelby and I be as lucky?“She is hoping Shelby will recover, too. Is there anything we can do?”

“Honestly, I don’t know yet.” I sigh, glancing toward the hall that leads to the bedroom. “She hasn’t really spoken about what happened. We are going for a walk when she gets out of the shower. I’m hoping to get her to talk. I’m thinking being outside in the fresh air and sunlight might make it easier.”

“Perhaps,” Luke answers, but I can hear the reluctance in his voice. “Just don’t be disappointed if she isn’t willing to talk.”

“I won’t be,” I tell him. “I understand how hard this is going to be for her. I’ve made her an appointment with a therapist tomorrow. She may cut my balls off, but I’ll do what is best for her.” Luke’s booming laugh comes over the line. I can hear Marley’s voice in the background.

“Marley would love to talk to Shelby when she’s feeling up to it,” Luke hedges. “She’s worried that Shelby hates her after everything that’s happened.”

“I can’t speak for her, but I seriously doubt she feels that way. Shelby loves Marley. They’ve been friends for years. Tell her not to worry. I’ll talk to her today and find out where her head is,” I assure him.

“Thanks, brother.” Luke pauses. I can tell there’s more he’s wanting to say. “Bo, I’m really glad you are there for Shelby. Just be sure you know what you’re getting into. Shelby isn’t like the women you’ve when out with before.” Now I’m seriously pissed.

“Luke, I don’t need another lecture,” I growl at him. “Shelby is important to me. I would never do anything to hurt her. I will take care of her, treat her like she should be, better than she has been in the past.”

“Yeah, Marley didn’t really give me details, but I got the impression she hasn’t had a very easy life. Just be careful with her, brother.”

“Always,” I say sincerely. “I care for her Luke. Trust me. I’ll treat her right.”

“I’m happy for you. Call me later to give Marley an update.” Luke ends the call without waiting for my confirmation. I glare at my phone before pocketing it. I finish in the kitchen before heading down the hall. I ease into the bedroom, noting the shower is still running. Shelby didn’t seem to notice I left the bathroom door open. A sound catches my ear. I step closer to the open door, listening for the sound again. There it is. Shelby’s crying.

Chapter 17

Shelby

Bo leaves me stunned in the bathroom. I step over to the counter and pick up the clothes he laid out for me. They are in my size, even down to the underwear.Seriously?What in the hell is up with him? I’ve never had a man show this level of interest in me. Lance only put in a few hours to get me to kiss him. Bo has been persistent ever since he picked me up at the airport, almost two weeks ago? Even though I’ve fought him every step of the way. I’m not sure how I feel about it.

A part of me is thrilled by his attention, but a bigger part of me is terrified of letting him get too close.What happens if I let myself believe he is really into me, then he loses interest and moves on?I’ll get my heart broken is what will happen. I’m not someone who can hold a man’s attention. I’m shocked that he noticed me.Now that I have his attention, how in the hell can I hold on to it? Do I even want to?

I slowly remove Bo’s t-shirt as I turn on the shower. If I’m honest with myself, I want his attention. The way he looks at me gives me a confidence I’ve only ever had when I’m working. I’m very good with numbers. When I’m running the numbers, I don’t have any worries or fears. I know what I’m doing and that I’m very good at what I’m doing. It is the only time I feel goodabout myself. My therapist has been working with me, but some lessons are impossible to unlearn, especially when those lessons were mercilessly beaten into you from a young age.

I step into the hot water of the enormous shower. I close my eyes as the water washes over me, tilting my head back to wet my hair. The water causes several places on my body to sting and burn from the various cuts and abrasions from my time with my captors. I wash my hair quickly and condition it in record time. I take the wash cloth placing a generous amount of body wash on it and begin to wash away the reminders of my abuse. As my hand moves over my ribs, I’m hit with a sharp pain that throws me back in time.

“You fat, lazy, piece of shit!” my father yells, landing another blow to my ribs. I hear the snap and feel them give as intense pain shoots through my right side. “You make me sick! Do you know that? How are you so fat? Huh? If you got off your lard ass and kept this place clean, you wouldn’t be so fat. I wish you’d never been born!” I wish the same thing, you bastard, I think to myself as he continues his assault. The house had been clean until he came home staggering around bumping into the walls and furniture knocking things off. He then went into the kitchen dragging out the meager leftovers we had in the fridge. He’d eaten, leaving his dishes sitting where ever he dropped them, spilling food on the table and floor.

“No, daddy! Please, stop!” I cry as pain flares in my left cheek as he hits me again. It crazy the things that run through your mind in times of stress. That will most certainly leave a mark, I think as he hits me again. I’ll never be able to hide this at school. The teachers and school nurse have already been suspicious of my many bruises and injuries. I’m running out of convincing stories to explain them away. Punch after punch lands on my body as I plead with him to stop the pain. What in the world am I going to do?

I can hardly catch my breath from the pain in my ribs, which he has unrelentingly hit several times. My vision is fading from the repeated blows to my head. Though my eyes are swelling, I can make out the hallway as he drags me toward the stairs. I try to fight him, but I can’t move without severe pain. My feet drag behind us as he labors to get my large body down the hall. He throws open the basement door. Then gives me a shove causing me to tumble down the stairs, every step I hit is agony. I’m going to die this time. There is no doubt in my mind. He is out of control with anger, fueled by alcohol that he seems to be able to find in abundance despite not having a job. I land in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the stairs. I make no effort to move. I can barely breath due to the pain. Maybe he will think I’m dead, and I can escape when he passes out. I hear his footsteps as they land heavily on the stairs above me. He’s going to finish me off. He won’t be satisfied until I’m dead.

“I’m here my sweet girl,” a strong safe voice whispers in my ear. I shiver as a cold breeze wafts over me. Then I’m wrapped in warmth. Sturdy arms wrap protectively around me, lifting me from the nightmare I’ve been reliving. I blink my eyes trying to focus. Bo’s bathroom replaces the basement of my childhood home. “You’re safe, Shelby. I’ve got you,” Bo murmurs next to my head. I realize he has me in his arms again, carrying me from the shower and out to his bed. My head begins to clear.Oh God! I’m naked in Bo’s arms!

He sits on the bed, holding me in his lap. He is murmuring something, but I can’t process what his is saying. Someone is weeping. Deep heart wrenching sobs. I wonder who is crying, but my mind is too muddled by Bo’s presence to focus. The warm skin of his chest is under my sore face, but I don’t notice the pain, too overwhelmed by the heat of his hard body under me. “Shelby?” Bo’s voice is uncertain. Something I never thoughtI’d hear. From the moment he first spoke to me, he has radiated confidence and strength. I didn’t think anything would cause him to worry.

I breathe in a shuddering breath and realize I’m the one who’s crying. No doubt he thinks I’m insane, a lunatic. Since I’m out of the shower, I can feel the tears running down my face. Did I say anything? Will he think my breakdown is from the kidnapping, or does he know this is from something much worse? Something I never want anyone to know.

“Let it out, sweet girl,” Bo whispers. “I won’t let you go. No one can hurt you now.” My racing heart and fractured mind begin to recover as the memories recede, and the here and now takes over. I want to be strong, to insist he let me go and to get out while I get dressed, but I’ve been through these flashbacks before. It takes a good long while for my mind to repair itself and my energy to return. I’m always so weak when I come back to reality. My therapist says it the adrenaline drop after a stressor. A normal reaction for anyone under stress, but I hate it. It accentuates my weakness. My body sags. My strength leaving me with the fear as it goes. Bo tightens his arms around me, seeming to know this is when I’ll need him to hold me together more than ever.

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