hold her against her
will, but here we are.”
I offer him a weak smile. Here we are.
“I’m sorry this happened to you.” He takes
my hand in his. His fingers dance across my skin, stroking me softly. He
lightly grazes the inside of my wrist and then his eyes flash up to mine.
I turn my wrist over and watch his eyes
widen as the shocking realization crosses his face.
Chapter
11
Callum
A long white scar lines the inside of her
left wrist. I reach forward with my other hand and run my fingertips along the
uneven, raised bump. She flinches at first, but when I continue stroking, she
doesn’t pull away.
“You did this?”
Her eyes shy away from my gaze, dancing
around the room as if searching for an escape.
“Leila?”
“I wanted it to end. I tried to end it
all,” she murmurs.
“While you were here?” I don’t need to ask.
I already know the answer.
She nods her head once.
“How?” my voice croaks out of me.
“In the shower with my shaver. I didn’t do
it right. I didn’t cut deep enough or something. I sat in the shower all night,
waiting to bleed out—waiting to die. He came in the morning and found me.
He sent some doctor to stitch me up. I thought the doctor would save me, but he
didn’t acknowledge me as a human being. He just stitched me up, gave me some
drugs and left. He wouldn’t even look at my face.”
“Fuck.”
I shudder when I think about that night and
what Leila must have went through. She sat in the shower, waiting for death to
take her in. I never want her to feel that way again—to feel as if
there’s no way out.
“Do you still want it to end?” I brace
myself for her answer, but when her response comes it surprises me.
“I’ve lived three years in this hell, I can
survive anything now.”
I let out a tense exhale. “Good.”
She holds my gaze when she speaks again.
“Hope is all I have, Callum. Hope is all I have left.”
I knew there were more to her words than
merely just speaking for the sake of it. I have given her hope. This new sense
that she has a life waiting for her and it’s now within her reach. I can’t wait
to give this girl her life back.
“Tell me about your happy place,” I say.
She furrows her brow. “Happy place?”
“The place you imagine when it gets too
much. I know you have a place where you transport yourself to, where you dream
of going again someday.”
She smiles, her lips parting slightly as
she conjures the memory. “Where I am from it is called Maceió . The beach is so beautiful and the water is the bluest water I’ve
ever seen.”
“It sounds perfect.”
“That is my happy place.” She closes her
eyes, perhaps imagining herself there in this moment. “And there are monkeys,”
she tells me.
I chuckle loudly. “Swimming monkeys?” I
nudge her shoulder.
She screws up her nose. “No, silly. They
don’t swim, they are on the beach.”
I smile. When Leila tries to convince me of
something she becomes so passionate. I watch a crease settle between her eyes
adorably.
“How many monkeys are there?”
“There are many, a whole family,” she says.
“And you can touch them?” I ask.
“Yes, you can touch them, no problem. And
you can feed them.”
I laugh again.
“Why are you laughing, Callum?”
“Because in America if you touch a monkey
people would worry about catching rabies.”
“Rabies?” she questions. “I do not know
what this rabies is.”
I brush my thumb along the apple of her
cheek. I can’t resist. “I love talking to you,” I tell her.
Her eyes dance from my lips, to my eyes and
then back to my lips. Her breathing intensifies and just when she’s about to
speak again, I hear a knock at the door.
Leila immediately sits upright, her body
ready to move in lightning speed. Pain shoots through her body, causing her to
wince, but she doesn’t make a sound.
“Callum,” she whispers. “Don’t let him take
me.”
I slip out from underneath the covers and
unbutton my
will, but here we are.”
I offer him a weak smile. Here we are.
“I’m sorry this happened to you.” He takes
my hand in his. His fingers dance across my skin, stroking me softly. He
lightly grazes the inside of my wrist and then his eyes flash up to mine.
I turn my wrist over and watch his eyes
widen as the shocking realization crosses his face.
Chapter
11
Callum
A long white scar lines the inside of her
left wrist. I reach forward with my other hand and run my fingertips along the
uneven, raised bump. She flinches at first, but when I continue stroking, she
doesn’t pull away.
“You did this?”
Her eyes shy away from my gaze, dancing
around the room as if searching for an escape.
“Leila?”
“I wanted it to end. I tried to end it
all,” she murmurs.
“While you were here?” I don’t need to ask.
I already know the answer.
She nods her head once.
“How?” my voice croaks out of me.
“In the shower with my shaver. I didn’t do
it right. I didn’t cut deep enough or something. I sat in the shower all night,
waiting to bleed out—waiting to die. He came in the morning and found me.
He sent some doctor to stitch me up. I thought the doctor would save me, but he
didn’t acknowledge me as a human being. He just stitched me up, gave me some
drugs and left. He wouldn’t even look at my face.”
“Fuck.”
I shudder when I think about that night and
what Leila must have went through. She sat in the shower, waiting for death to
take her in. I never want her to feel that way again—to feel as if
there’s no way out.
“Do you still want it to end?” I brace
myself for her answer, but when her response comes it surprises me.
“I’ve lived three years in this hell, I can
survive anything now.”
I let out a tense exhale. “Good.”
She holds my gaze when she speaks again.
“Hope is all I have, Callum. Hope is all I have left.”
I knew there were more to her words than
merely just speaking for the sake of it. I have given her hope. This new sense
that she has a life waiting for her and it’s now within her reach. I can’t wait
to give this girl her life back.
“Tell me about your happy place,” I say.
She furrows her brow. “Happy place?”
“The place you imagine when it gets too
much. I know you have a place where you transport yourself to, where you dream
of going again someday.”
She smiles, her lips parting slightly as
she conjures the memory. “Where I am from it is called Maceió . The beach is so beautiful and the water is the bluest water I’ve
ever seen.”
“It sounds perfect.”
“That is my happy place.” She closes her
eyes, perhaps imagining herself there in this moment. “And there are monkeys,”
she tells me.
I chuckle loudly. “Swimming monkeys?” I
nudge her shoulder.
She screws up her nose. “No, silly. They
don’t swim, they are on the beach.”
I smile. When Leila tries to convince me of
something she becomes so passionate. I watch a crease settle between her eyes
adorably.
“How many monkeys are there?”
“There are many, a whole family,” she says.
“And you can touch them?” I ask.
“Yes, you can touch them, no problem. And
you can feed them.”
I laugh again.
“Why are you laughing, Callum?”
“Because in America if you touch a monkey
people would worry about catching rabies.”
“Rabies?” she questions. “I do not know
what this rabies is.”
I brush my thumb along the apple of her
cheek. I can’t resist. “I love talking to you,” I tell her.
Her eyes dance from my lips, to my eyes and
then back to my lips. Her breathing intensifies and just when she’s about to
speak again, I hear a knock at the door.
Leila immediately sits upright, her body
ready to move in lightning speed. Pain shoots through her body, causing her to
wince, but she doesn’t make a sound.
“Callum,” she whispers. “Don’t let him take
me.”
I slip out from underneath the covers and
unbutton my
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