Page 57 of Keeping My Girl

CHAPTER32

Selina

AFEW DAYS after the rescue mission went awry, Mrs. Vitale suggested that I go to the hospital with her to speak to the three women who survived. I was reluctant at first, but I ultimately agreed to go. I don’t know how well I’ll be able to help anyone, considering I can barely help myself most days, but I just can’t say no to Nico’s family after all they’ve done for me. If Verona Vitale wanted me to jump off a bridge, I would probably do it because I owe them so much. I feel indebted to them. I truly owe them my life. And since she’s not asking me to do something impossible or dangerous, I can, at the very least, do this for her.

Two of the women are being housed in a room together on the tenth floor of the hospital while another is still in the ICU. The elevator ride is quiet, and I glance over at Nico several times. He insisted on coming, and I feel a bit calmer knowing he’s here with me. He’s wearing a dark blue tailored suit, and he looks devastatingly handsome.

Reaching out, I grab his hand, and the reassuring squeeze I feel in response gives me all the strength I need to get through today. “You’ve got this,” he tells me, his lips tilting up.

Verona went on ahead of us to the tenth floor, wanting to speak with the two women first while Nico and I go to the ICU on the fourth.

“The woman in the ICU suffered longer and endured a lot more than the others,” Nico explains to me. I can see now why Verona wanted me to speak with her specifically. “Her name is Lauren. She’s currently under twenty-four-seven surveillance in a room, because she keeps trying to harm herself.”

I cringe at his words. Lauren clearly doesn’t want to be in this world any longer. I can relate with that feeling all too well, and it takes me back to a time when I was in that kind of desperate state. I never want to feel like that again, I think to myself as a shudder runs through me.

“If you’re uncomfortable, you know you don’t have to do this, Lina,” Nico assures me.

But I refuse to let my dark, painful memories drag me down into a deep pit of despair. Instead, I square my shoulders, hold my head up high and tell him, “I want to talk to her.”

“That’s my girl,” he says with a smile.

The elevator beeps, and the doors slowly open up to the fourth floor. We step out together, and I grip Nico’s hand even tighter in mine, not wanting to let go. I need his strength right now to get me through this. Dealing with Lauren’s trauma will no doubt bring my own memories roaring back to life.

We walk down the hall and stop in front of the room that Lauren is currently in. Nico turns to me. “You can do this,” he tells me confidently before pulling me close and placing a kiss on my forehead, his hands flexing at my waist as he holds me.

My breath catches in my throat. He’s so close, but I want to pull him impossibly closer, crawl inside of him and never leave. If I’ve learned anything over the past several weeks I’ve been free from Constantine, it’s that Nico is the only man I have ever trusted and probably the only one I ever will.

“I’ll be right down the hall if you need me,” he says before slowly releasing me and walking away.

Taking several deep breaths, I steel my nerves before I gently knock on the doorframe and then proceed into the room. I take note of the security camera mounted to the ceiling, watching Lauren’s every move. Right now she’s lying in bed, staring out the window. Her curly brown hair is up in a messy ponytail, and she looks thin, malnourished. She’s breathing so shallowly that for a moment I think she might not even be taking air into her lungs.

“Hello,” I say softly, not wanting to spook her just in case she didn’t hear my knock. “My name is Selina.”

“They told me you were coming to talk to me today,” she utters.

“What else did they tell you?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.

“They said you would understand what I’m going through.” She turns to me then, and I stare at the bruises littering her pretty face. I school my features quickly and move a little closer before taking a seat near her bed. “Do you?” she asks.

“Yes. I know exactly what you are going through right now,” I tell her honestly. “I was held captive for ten years by a human trafficker who bought me,” I confess. God, when I say those words out loud, it sounds crazy, but that is my story. I’m just grateful I can talk about it in the past tense now.

“Ten years,” she says in astonishment. “I was only gone for six or seven months. I can’t even imagine that long,” she says with a shake of her head. “So you do understand,” she says with finality, like maybe she initially thought I wouldn’t. I get where she’s coming from. Not many women have been in our shoes.

“I’m here to talk or just to listen,” I offer. And then I quickly add, “Only if you want to.” I don’t want to pressure her into doing anything she doesn’t want to do.

Her eyes close momentarily. “The things they did to me…” Her voice trails off as she stares out the window with a vacant look in her eyes.

Surprising even myself, I cover Lauren’s hand with mine gently, coaxing her back to the present. She glances towards me again, blinking her eyes. “You’re safe now. Things will get better. I promise,” I tell her confidently.

“It feels like the darkness is just going to swallow me whole,” she tells me with tears in her eyes before pulling her hand away from mine to curl into herself. “And sometimes…I want to let it. I want to disappear,” she whispers, her voice full of sadness and grief.

“I’m not going to let that happen. I won’t let you disappear,” I tell her adamantly. “There is a light at the end of that very dark tunnel, Lauren, trust me. I was lost, just like you. I wanted to die every single day when I was with my captor. But I held on. For what? I didn’t know at the time. But now I know. I held on so that I could be here, with people that I care for, with people that…love me.” It’s hard to say the L word, but I manage to get it past the lump forming in my throat. For so long, I felt unwanted, unloved. And it’s hard to imagine a world in which people care about me, maybe even love me for just being me.

The girl releases a sob from her lips. “I would like to see my grandma again. She was always so sweet to me. I don’t know why I ran away from home. I’m sure I broke her heart,” she says, her bottom lip trembling as she stifles her cries. “I don’t think she’ll ever forgive me for running away.”

My heart breaks for the young woman. “Would you forgive your grandmother if she had been the one to run away?” I ask her.

Lauren pauses, and I can see her expression morph from sadness to understanding. “I would forgive her for anything,” she whispers.

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