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Chapter 8: Not again – Part 2/2

I curled up into a ball against the wall, clutching my knees to my chest and cradling myself. I heard screams and wails of pain all around me, but I couldn’t bring myself to look.

“Omg, Amelia!” I heard someone shout. Looking up slightly, I saw Trevor rushing towards me. He took his shirt off and draped me in it, helping me off the ground.

He wrapped me in his arms, leading me down the alley. “Come on, doll.”

Trevor led me inside the club and into a back room. It seemed like a type of kitchen. Trevor lifted me up and onto the counter gently. He remained quiet as he stood there looking me over, then went to retrieve a first aid kit. Just as he returned, I heard angry voices outside the room.

“Is it ok that we are in here?” I said as panic began to rise. I didn’t want anyone to see me like this; I didn’t want to answer questions.

The door flew open with a bang, and there stood Damon. Unfortunately, he was too large for the doorway and had to crouch down to cross the threshold.

His features were twisted with rage as the anger rolled off him in waves. He glared at Trevor. “Get the fuck out,” Damon said with so much authority; it made me shiver with fear.

I looked to Trevor, pleading with him not to go, but he just gave me a half-smile and squeezed my arm for reassurance. He then left, and Damon slammed the door behind him, leaving us alone.

He walked over to me and began to inspect my entire body, Damon grabbed Trevor’s shirt to remove it, but I clung onto it like it was a life force, not wanting to take it off. Finally, he cocked his head slightly and glared at me. “Let go.” He demanded.

I closed my eyes and let go of the shirt, allowing him to remove it. Damon then opened the first aid kit and rummaged through it. He pulled out a few items and began to tend to my wounds.

After a moment of silence, Damon finally spoke, “What the fuck were you thinking?”

I hissed as he put alcohol on my scraps. “I just wanted to have some fun,” I admitted.

He raised a brow. “And look where it got you.” He stated, shocking me with his words.

I scoffed. “Got me? You think I fucking asked for this, Damon?” How could he say that to me?

“No...bu.” I didn’t allow him to answer.

“There is no but, Damon. I didn’t ask for this. I just wanted to have some fun and relax for a bit. You have had me held up in that house for almost a month now. The only time I’ve had outside the house since the day I was taken was when you took me out of the dungeons and the day I tried to escape. So I just wanted some time away.” Tears were now streaming down my face.

He ran his thumb across my cheek, wiping away the wayward tear. “You shouldn’t have left; you were safe at the house; if I hadn’t shown up when I did, he...”
Damon closed his eyes and gripped the counter, trying to calm himself. “I can’t have anything happen to you, Amelia, don’t you understand that?” He looked at me with caring eyes.

I closed my eyes. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left,” I sobbed.

Damon pulled me into him, holding me against his chest. “Shh, it’s ok.” He held onto me for a beat, then released me and walked over to the door. “Where are you going?” I didn’t want him to let me go. I felt safe in his arms.

He didn’t answer me, just slightly opened the door and spoke with someone. After a moment, he closed the door again and had a blanket in his hands. He came back over to me and wrapped me in the blanket, then picked me up off the counter and held me in his arms bridal style. “We’re going home.” I snuggled into him, breathing in his scent, as he carried me out of the room.

We had finally arrived back at the house. Damon carried me inside and up the stairs, passing my room and heading for his room instead.

I looked up at him. “Wait, why aren’t you taking me to my room?” I questioned.

“You’re sleeping in my room tonight.” He said as if it were obvious. I didn’t argue with him because I honestly didn’t want to be alone tonight.

We entered the bedroom, and I was a bit taken aback. I had expected it to be different, but the room was clean, light, and airy, and Damon’s scent filled the air. He had a four-poster bed in the middle, with green sheets and a white blanket adorning it, a wooden nightstand with a small lamp occupying the space next to the bed. A large bookshelf, overflowing with books, was tucked along the far wall, and a leather chair sat next to it. His room was so simple and had few items in it. It was shocking.

Damon set me down on the bed. “Would you like to have a shower?”

I nodded. “Yes, but I need some clothes.” I needed clean clothes, and I wanted more than anything to have the world’s hottest shower and scrub my body clean.

“I’ll get them; go get into the shower. The bathroom is over there.” He pointed towards a door on my left.

I got up from the bed and walked over to the door. My eyes widened, and my jaw nearly dropped to the floor. It was one of the most beautiful bathrooms I had ever seen. Shiny white tiles covered the floor, the vanity a midnight blue, with a large soaker tub along one wall and a vast walk-in shower, big enough for a dozen people and multiple showerheads.

I let the blanket drop to the floor and removed the clothing left on my body, throwing it straight into the trash, not wanting ever to see or let alone wear it again.

I turned on the shower and stepped in, perching myself against the wall and sinking to the floor, allowing the water to cascade over me.

As I sat there, everything that had happened flooded my mind. I was almost raped, again! This realization brought me to tears. I sobbed on the shower floor, tears mixing with the water that poured down my face. Damon was right; I shouldn’t have left; nothing would have happened if I had just stayed here.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and Damon barged in. “Amelia?” He opened the shower door and found me sitting on the tile floor, sobbing. He slowly approached and knelt on the floor. “Are you ok?” He asked as he brushed my wet hair from my face.

I didn’t say anything, knowing my voice would crack. So instead, I just nodded and squeezed my eyes shut, refusing to let him see me cry. Damon didn’t say anything else but climbed into the shower with me and wrapped me in his arms, holding me close to him as he stroked my hair. I melted into his touch, feeling safe and comfortable within his hold.

We stayed like that for a while before Damon pulled back. “Come on; you need to get cleaned up before you shrivel up into a prune.” Damon stood to his feet and helped me off the floor. He helped to clean my body and then washed my hair.

After finishing, he wrapped me in a towel and hugged me tightly, kissing the top of my head. “Here, I brought your clothes, get changed.”

He handed me my pyjamas and left the room. I looked into the mirror and was disgusted at what I saw. Looking back, it was someone who is now broken, someone who was too weak to fight off their attacker. I looked away and got dressed, then entered the bedroom. Damon was changed and lying in bed, waiting for me. He lifted the blankets and padded the bed, motioning for me to get in, and I did. He pulled me close to him, wrapping me in his soft muscular, arms and lulled me to sleep.

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