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splashes of blood covering two of them, but that didn’t surprise Joseph as much as seeing Benton holding a trembling Nissa in his arms. He kept her away from the bodies and stroked her hair, her face and back, the whispers as he spoke to her too quiet for Joseph to make out words. “Benton?”
    Benton gathered Nissa in his arms and rose to his full height. No doubt it was him.
    Nissa’s arms went to encircle his neck and she buried her face into his chest, but if anything the trembling increased and she still didn’t speak.
    Benton nodded. “I took care of the situation. I’m going to take her away now.”
    Joseph was many things, but he had never been a fool. He wanted to take Nissa to Marie for safekeeping. But Benton would tear his own arms off before he would ever think of harming Nissa in any way, and judging Benton’s expression, the only thing trying to stop Benton from leaving would accomplish was getting him and the men surrounding him killed. “Marie is going to want to see with her own eyes Nissa is okay,” was all Joseph said to the scarred man.
    Benton nodded. “I’ll bring her later.” With that, he left with a shaking Nissa still in his arms.
    “Benton’s back? What about Byron? Didn’t Marco say Byron was here?” said one of the men in the group.
    Something strange was happening here. If Joseph pressed hard enough, he might discover why a niggle in the back of his head told him to look closer. But he wasn’t going to do that. He wanted to get back to Marie and his son and not worry about answering questions.  He walked over to the bloodiest body. “Come on, boys, looks like we have some cleaning up to do.”

 
     
    Chapter Seven
     
     
    Nissa came to awareness in dribs and drabs. The first thing that impressed itself upon her was the smell. She was not surrounded by the floral scent of her roses but by a wonderful musky scent, rich and warm, at turns comforting and mouthwatering.
    Her eyes opened to the sun on the wrong side of the room, and then she opened them wider to see the wrong room. Not her room.
    In a flash, Nissa sat upright, the sheet clutched tight to her body. A quick glance showed she was still fully clothed, though wiggling her toes told her she had no shoes on her feet.
    “ Nissa, look at me !”
    “ I’m Benton , your Benton .”
    “Benton,” she called without thought, before considering if she was ready to see him yet.
    His face appeared in the doorway in moments, suggesting he had been close by, perhaps even waiting for her to call.
    She took him in, her gaze slow and methodical as she studied him. There was no change from the last time she had seen him, not a single trace of Byron left in either the scarred face or large body.
    Other memories were starting to crowd her mind now, rank breath and a filthy odor, and a tongue shoving itself into her mouth as a hand forced her jaw to open and allow it.
    The sheet wrapped itself around her legs as she scrambled out of bed. She fell hard against the floor and jarred her wrist, but she didn’t let the pain stop her from reaching the open window. She pushed her head through as her stomach emptied itself into the bushes below.
    It took several turns for her stomach to clench and release before she felt well enough to chance leaving the safety of the window. She pulled her head back to find Benton kneeling in front of her, a glass of water and some mint leaves in his hands.
    She took both. As she chewed she took in his form – the broad shoulders, the deep scars, the thin lips. It was Benton, down to the almost invisible scar at his hairline.
    “You believed me.” His once-again deep voice broke through her musings. “When I told you last night. You believed Byron was Benton.”
    Nissa smiled, and the involuntary curling of her mouth settled her stomach. This felt normal and right. This felt like everything was okay again. “That’s the first thing you question?”
    He shrugged. “Seems like a good place to start.