Beyond the Past by Carly Fall Page B

on her torso. She stepped into the water and slowly lay back, closing her eyes. Silent tears cascaded down her battered face, and he took note of the nasty dark marks on her ribs and collarbone. Rage welled within him as his gaze traveled down the rest of her familiar body, and he wondered what else had been done to her.
    “Don’t look at me,” she slurred, slowly turning her back to him and facing the wall.
    He didn’t know what to do or what to say, so he shut the toilet lid and sat down, resting his head in his hands. Oh, how he’d failed the one person in life whom he loved, the one person he’d tried so hard to protect.
    A few moments later, he heard water sloshing, and he looked at her. She sat up, wrapping her arms around her shins and laying her cheek on her knees. Saying nothing, she stared at him.
    “I’m so sorry this happened, Gabby,” he whispered, kneeling by the tub. “Who’s responsible for this? Just tell me, and I promise you I will hunt them down and—”
    “Don’t say anything else,” she murmured, and he wondered again if she’d been drugged as he could barely make out her words. “Just don’t. Not now.”
    He slowly reached out and took her hand, unable to hold back his tears of rage and hurt while she stared at him, her eyes finally dry.
    “Where have you been, Lucas?”
    He shut his eyes. He remembered that New Year’s Eve night in the convenience store twelve years ago. He’d made a promise he’d never intended to break, but then again, he’d never thought he’d return home from the call of duty with a threat of death hanging over his head if he ever told anyone what had happened in the jungles of Guatemala. Nor did he ever think he’d have the curse of watching people die. “You need to sleep,” he whispered.
    “Did you leave me, Lucas? Or did someone take you, like they did me? How did you get away? Why didn’t you contact me?”
    It would be best to talk when she’d be more coherent. “Gabby, let’s get you settled. We have plenty of time to talk tomorrow.”
    “Who’s that man in the wheelchair, Joe? How did Garrett find me?”
    Her thoughts seemed to be all over the place, reaffirming his suspicion she had been drugged.
    “I promise I’ll answer all your questions, Gabby, but not now. You need to rest, honey. You need to heal.”
    “Okay,” she whispered, seemingly resigned she wouldn’t be getting any answers tonight.
    He met her gaze and had to smile. He stroked her hair as they sat there for a long time staring at each other. He could see the exhaustion taking over, and hoped she would rest peacefully, but he doubted it. She’d most likely wake with nightmares, which was understandable after what she’d been through.
    “Am I staying here tonight?” she asked.
    He nodded. “I have a bed made up for you.”
    She studied him for a moment. “Is it the same bed you’ll be in?”
    “Do you want it to be?”
    She shook her head. “No.”
    Her words hit like a proverbial kick to the groin that he’d have to man up and deal with. He nodded. “Then no, it’s your own bed.”
    “Help me up, Lucas.”
    He got to his feet and held her hand while placing his other hand on her waist. She gingerly stood, wincing.
    After helping her out of the tub, he wrapped her in a beige towel. He pulled another one from the rack and dried the ends of her hair. She moved to look in the mirror, and he stepped in front of her.
    “Don’t,” he pleaded. “Not yet, Gabby.”
    She stared at him a moment. He couldn’t bear for her to see herself this way, to witness the damage that had been done to her beautiful face.
    “Okay,” she said.
    He led her out of the bathroom and sat her down on his bed. “This is my room,” he said as he rummaged through the drawers trying to find something clean for her to wear. Finally, he came up with the same sweats and sweatshirt he’d been given on his arrival. He helped her slide them on, and then led her to the bedroom next