Page 11 of Wounded Wing

Chapter seven

Atticus’ footsteps fade aroundme as he exits the room. Mae’s body lies naked and unmoving in a small pool of blood along with other fluids. Breathing in deeply, I taste sulfur in the air.

Yebat’.

Rushing to her side, my eyes travel the vast markings covering her body. I search for a bullet wound as I drop my aid kit to the floor.

Bending over her body, I reach for her pulse point.

“Come on,malen’kaya luna. Give me something to work with here,” I demand, trembling with anger and another emotion that I don’t have time to wallow in.

A faint flutter graces my fingertips, allowing me time to pull supplies and start mending what Lennon has broken. Over the years I’ve come to know Mae and her body as intimately as I know my own. Years of healing every wound against her skin and broken bone. In my attempts to make amends with the worst parts of myself, I’ve tried to mend pieces of her soul back together. Years worth of comforting words and gentle touches live between us. Love is a foreign notion to me as a man soiled in innocent blood. But, if I had to say I loved anyone, it would bemoya luna.

I remember like it was yesterday, the night I was summoned by Atticus. Mae Lennon stood in all her glory, glaring at her husband who shrugged his shoulders and told me to fix his wife up. Her hand was in a champagne bucket filled with ice, while he sported a black eye. Little did I know that Mae wasn’t the only person I was tending to that night. I suppose in a way, I'm grateful for that call. I couldn't savemalen’kaya luna, but it led me to being able to rescue Lai.

Thoughts of the past drift away. Before I know it, I cleaned the dried blood from her face and removed the remaining rope that bound her wrists. That leaves the task of waking her before continuing to catalog her injuries.

Brushing my hand lightly across her cheek, Mae groans as she stirs back to consciousness.

“Prosypaysya, malen’kaya luna. I need to know where you’re hurt,” I murmur, watching a tear fall from her eye.

Maehas never, in all the years I have known her, cried after an altercation with Atticus. As a matter of fact, she has always reassured me that everything he has done to her has been consensual. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't. All that mattered was pain, and the pleasure that followed, has been ingrained into her bones.

Her plush lip quivers as she attempts to stifle the sob that escapes her throat. My heart freezes in my chest as a sickly feeling pools in my stomach. Whatever Atticus has done, he has gone too far by his wife’s standards.

“Shh, Mae. It’s okay,” I soothe. “It’s just me. I’m going to help you now. I just need to know where you’re hurting.”

She slowly turns to face me, her face beyond swollen. Various shades of purple and red hues decorate both eyes. Her nose, adorned with a gold septum ring, is reddened and crooked.Her lip has a significant cut scabbing over and her eyes are bloodshot, making the blueish-green colors appear unnaturally bright.

“Lexei?” she groans.

I grunt my confirmation, knowing my voice would give way to how bad the damage is.

And how fucking pissed I am.

“He fucked me, didn’t he?”

“I don’t know yet, little moon. But if I have your permission, I’d like to assess if you have more injuries,” I say methodically, distancing myself momentarily to do the job I was hired to do.

“P-please don’t tell me how ba-d it is, Lexei. I can’t–” she stutters, likely fighting off the memory of what she endured.

Quickly, I pull a pair of latex gloves from my bag, fitting my hands through them. Her legs spread out from the position her husband left her in, revealing blood and presumably cum drying over her abused sex. I mentally note that there appear to be smaller burns on the outside of her entrance.

Extinguishing the anger festering within me, I whisper gently, “Mae, I need to check for internal damages–minor cutting, bruising, or tears. This will be uncomfortable; you will want to kick my head clean off. I’m so sorry,moya luna.”

Before she can change her mind, I slip my fingers down to spread her open. Rage unlike anything I have known threatens to surface at the macabre vision in front of me. Her legs tense as I push two fingers into her canal, feeling every burn and fissure that Atticus caused. The wounds go beyond my scope of expertise; vaginal trauma is not something I’ve ever been acquainted with. The most I can offer her is a cocktail to knock her out before taking her to someone better equipped.

Removing my fingers gently, her legs ease their tension, her fight instincts leaving her body entirely.

“It’s bad, isn’t it, Lexei?” she questions softly.

Snapping the gloves off as if they’ve personally offended me, I grunt in confirmation. Bad is an understatement, but she knows this already.

“I’m not equipped to handle some of this, I need to take you to a friend. She will be able to help with the internal injuries.” I close my eyes as she sniffles. “What did that cocksucker do to you,moya luna?” I ask, waiting patiently for her response. I’m hangingby a thread, hoping that she confides afractionof what she was put through.

“He uh…he used his pistol. I don’t know about after…Ithurts. I hurt,” she cries. “He went too far…”

Static fills my ears. My knees buckle until I fall to my haunches. Gently, I pull her into my arms, her groans of protest falling flat. Nothing could stop me from holding her as her naked body shivers with each hiccupping sob. The urge to take her away from this shithole burns through my chest, my brothers would feel the same.

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