Page 42 of The Bones We Break
“Yes. That’s.. That’s fine, thank you.” I murmur. Doctor Morgan closes the distance between us and stands at the opposite side of the bed. He places his hand, palm up, in front of him and I place my arm into his open hand, and gently begins to unwrap the white gauze that the nurse wrapped around it before and I immediately snap my head away, refusing to look at my mistakes. Dean squeezes my hand in between his firm grip, his deep green eyes connecting with mine. I use him as my life raft, gripping onto him to keep me from drowning. I feel the bandage fall away and a cold sensation dances over my skin as Doctor Morgan begins to clean my arm, the strong smell of antiseptic wafts into my nose.
“Alright, I’ve given the wounds a good clean and there doesn’t seem to be any signs of infection which is a positive.” His firm but gentle voice carries around the small room and I simply nod, keeping my focus on Dean. “I understand that you’re not wanting to look so I’ll happily explain everything that I’m doing.” Dean thanks the doctor on my behalf and I simply listen, taking in every piece of information he’s telling me, from the antiseptic cream he uses on the older wounds to the steri-strips he places over the larger gash to close the broken skin together. He then rewraps my arm in a fresh gauze before pulling the sleeve of my top back over my arm, giving it a small tap to signal that he’s done.
“All done mama.” Dean whispers to me.
I break the connection and turn to face Doctor Morgan who’s pulling his gloves off and throwing them into the yellow waste bin. “You did really well there, Ana. I can only imagine how difficult that was for you.” The fine lines crease near his eyes as he smiles at me, feeling a sense of reassurance from him. “I’m going to hand you over to Doctor Phillips now and she’s going to run through some questions with you, alright? If there’s anything you need, please let me know.” He begins to walk past Doctor Phillips as she takes his previous place at the side of the bed.
“Thank you, Doctor Morgan.” I say appreciatively, he gives me a bright smile and ducks behind the curtain.
Doctor Phillips pulls up another chair at the side of the bed and crosses her skirt-clad leg over the other, placing a black clipboard on her knee. Nerves begin to build in my stomach, like a swarm of bees frantically trying to find a way to escape. A sour taste coats my throat as I imagine the sort of questions she’s going to ask me. What if she tries to put me away somewhere, away from here, away from Dean. I’m not crazy, I’m a victim. A victim of domestic violence, a victim of sexual assault and a victim of rape.
I’m not crazy.
Dean senses my internal panic and squeezes my hand again. “Everything’s okay Ana, I promise. I’m not going anywhere and neither are you.” He says firmly and I nod my head shakily, believing his every word. From what I’ve seen so far from Dean I know full well he’s not going to let me out of his sight from now on.
Doctor Phillips clicks her pen and I turn to face her. Her warm green eyes show no sign of malice.
“As Doctor Morgan said I’m Doctor Phillips, it’s lovely to meet you. I’m part of the mental health department and my job is to basically get you the help you need, now that doesn’t mean pumping you full of drugs or sending you off to sit in a padded room. It means that I’m here to listen and guide you down the right paths.” She begins to jot a few things down that I can’t see on the clipboard, the pen scraping across the paper. “So, if you can and only if you can. I’d like you to take your time and explain how we got to this stage. If that’s okay with you?” She looks between me and Dean, panic rising up inside my body. Just the thought of reliving everything that I’ve been through is enough to send me running for the hills, away from everyone but I know I need to do this. I can’t carry this heavy weight on my shoulders any more, the pain is too much and I can feel myself being pushed further and further down until there’s nothing left of me. I try to swallow the thick lump that’s stuck in my throat and spill my guts in front of Doctor Phillips and.. Dean.
I empty myself right there and relive the pain and torture that Ricky brought onto me. My mind sends me reeling, right back into the past of when I first met Ricky, right up to the day I finally left him and everything in between. The first time I started to have doubts about his behaviour, to the very first time he put his vile hands on me. It all comes spilling out like black poison, sticky and thick, coating everything in its wake and I can’t stop. It’s like a word vomit that’s never ending.
Doctor Phillips’ pen flies across the paper as she writes at rapid speed, everything that I’m saying. My face is wet with hot tears that fall like a never ending waterfall, dampening my shirt. The more I speak the more I feel Dean’s inner rage building. His breathing is thick and heavy as I pull him through this never ending nightmare. Practically dragging him through the warzone, and I dread to think of the image he now has of me. The horrors I’ve endured and how tainted my skin is.
That I’m no longer worthy.
Damaged goods.
I cut myself open and bleed myself dry in front of these people until there is nothing left. Until the room falls into a heavy silence. My cries are the only sound. Dean’s broken voice cuts through the thick silence, the sound cutting me open all over again.
“Doctor Phillips. Could you give us a moment please?” He asks and I hear her shuffle around on her seat to stand up. “Absolutely, please take all the time you need, I’ll just be outside.” She pushes the chair away and slips through the curtains, leaving me and Dean alone. Releasing Dean’s hand, I lift my legs and wrap my arms around myself, tucking my knees under my chin. Even fully dressed I feel so exposed. So open and raw.
Dean stands up in my periphery and I’ve already convinced myself that he’s going to leave. He’s heard enough and it’s too much for him. He’s disgusted in me, I know he is.
A split second passes and the bed dips at the side of me. “Make some room, pretty girl.” Lifting my head from my knees, my brows creased.
“What are you doing? I thought you were leaving?” I ask, still confused as to why he’s still here. He pushes me further into the bed before sliding in at the side of me, his body taking up every available space on the single mattress. I instantly feel the heat of his firm body, not an inch of space between us. He pulls my knees free from the confines of my arms till they’re outstretched in front of me before wrapping his toned arm around my back, pulling me into his solid chest, the side of my face resting in thecrook of his arm. I freeze immediately and wait for him to tell me softly that he doesn’t want to stay, but that never comes.
“I’m not going anywhere, Ana. I told you this and I will keep telling you this until you believe me. Nothing that you say or do can make me walk away from this, away from you.” I feel the vibrations of his deep voice through his chest as he laces his fingers through mine. His warm skin tone stark against my pale shade. “You have no idea how fucking proud I am of you. You opened yourself up right there in front of me and I’ve never been more in awe of someone in my life.” Tears fell freely at his words and I let them, feeling myself falling deeper into his sanctuary, to a place where nothing bad can ever touch me again. The roughness of his beard coasts against my forehead, his soft lips planting a small kiss there.
“Rest now pretty girl, I’ll be here when you wake up.” I let my body go heavy against him, knowing he’ll keep me secure as I allow my eyelids to fall closed. Exhaustion taking me under.
I’m groggy as I wake, the bright white light from the ceiling of the small cubicle pierces through my eyes causing me to wince, tucking my face further into a mass of muscle.
Dean’s still here like he said he would be. A warmth rushes through me knowing that he stayed, even when I bared myself completely to him.
“I seem to be making a habit of falling asleep around you.” I croak out. A rich laugh fills my ears, it’s a sound that I want to hear all of the time.
“Are you tryna’ say that I’m boring?” Dean teases and I feel my face flush. “I wouldn’t use the word boring to describe you.” I say, a hint of shyness filtering through my voice. He turns on his side to face me, the solid planes of his chest now in my eyeline, he places his fingers under my chin and tilts my headback to look up at him, the radiant green of his eyes burn into me, flecks of brown and hazel speckle through his irises and I find myself getting completely lost in them. Years worth of stories are written all across his face and I itch to read them, to dive underneath his skin and make a home there.
My own thoughts take me by surprise and that tiny flick of guilt tries to creep its way in but I do everything in my power to throw it out. To block it from coming in. I’m beginning to have feelings for Dean and if I’m being truly honest with myself, I don’t want to stop it. One half of me is trying to convince my brain that I don’t deserve this, that I don’t deserve to have someone to want me, that I don’t deserve to feel the way I do about someone other than my husband who I know now, probably never loved me. And if he did, it wasn’t the love that I wanted. No, his version of love was toxic, a venom that ran through my bloodstream, killing me slowly from the inside out.
I break from my trance, the eyelids fluttering to clear the haze. The pad of Dean’s thumb brushes against my chin, the motion soothing me.
“And what word would you use to describe me, hm?” He questions.
“Let me think. Caring. Thoughtful. Strong. Funny.. Handsome.” The words leave my mouth faster than I can catch them. His nostrils flare, the lines between his strong brows crease and I fear I’ve taken this too far. Dean’s burning gaze roams over my face before stopping at my lips, the pad of his thumb skims across the inside of my lower lip, the rough skin whispering over my bottom teeth, and I run my tongue over the tip of his thumb without even thinking, tasting his rich skin. He groans a deliciously deep sound from his throat as I continue to taste him, his breathing begins to pick up as I open my mouth further for him, allowing him the access I know we both want.Dean takes the opportunity to slide his thumb into my warm mouth and I wrap my plump lips around the digit, swirling my tongue in loose circles.
“Fuckk.” He releases a breathy moan, his strong jaw ticking the more I suck his thumb into my mouth. The feeling is euphoric as I watch him barely come undone before me. Slowly, Dean slips his thumb free with an audible pop and smears the wetness across my mouth, reality quickly hits me square in the face when I realise where we are and what I’ve just done.
