He hit her again, hard enough to make stars explode inside her head. She went down this time, and before she could scramble up, he was on her.
Screams, her screams, because his fists were hard and merciless. Pain, blinding, numbing pain that was nothing beside the fear. The fear because however horrible, this would not be the worst he did to her.
‘Daddy, please. Please, please.’
‘Have to punish you. You never listen. Never fucking listen. Then I’ll give you a treat. A nice big treat, and you’ll be a good girl.’
His breath was hot on her face and somehow smelled like candy. His hands tore at her already tattered clothes, poking, squeezing, invading. His breathing changed, a change she knew and feared. It became shallow, greedy.
‘No, no, it hurts, it hurts!’
Her poor young flesh resisted. She batted at him, screaming still, was driven beyond fear to claw. His cry of rage bellowed out. He twisted her arm back. She heard the dry, hideous sound of her own bone snapping.
‘Lieutenant. Lieutenant Dallas.’
The scream ripped from her throat and she came to, swinging blindly. In wild panic she scrambled up, her own legs tangling and taking her to the floor in a heap.
‘Lieutenant.’
She reared away from the hand that touched her shoulder, huddled back as sobs and screams knotted in her throat.
‘You were dreaming.’ Summerset spoke carefully, his face impassive. She might have seen the realization in his eyes if her own hadn’t been clouded with memory. ‘You were dreaming,’ he repeated, approaching her as he would a trapped wolf. ‘You had a nightmare.’
‘Stay away from me. Go away. Stay away.’
‘Lieutenant. Do you know where you are?’
‘I know where I am.’ She got the words out between quick gulps of air. She was freezing, boiling, and couldn’t stop the tremors. ‘Go away. Just go away.’ She made it as far as her knees, then covered her mouth and rocked. ‘Get the hell out of here.’
‘Let me help you to the chair.’ His hands were gentle, but firm enough to keep hold when she tried to shove him away.
‘I don’t need help.’
‘I’m going to help you to your chair.’ As far as he was concerned, she was a child now, a wounded one who needed care. As his Marlena had been. He tried not to think if his child had begged as Eve had begged. After he put her in the chair, he went to a chest, drew out a blanket. Her teeth were chattering and her eyes were wide with shock.
‘Be still.’ The order was brisk as she began to push up. ‘Stay where I’ve put you and be quiet.’
He turned on his heel, striding into the kitchen alcove and the AutoChef. There was sweat on his brow and he dabbed at it with a handkerchief as he ordered a soother. His hand was shaking. It didn’t surprise him. Her screams had chilled him to the bone and brought him to her suite at a dead run.
They’d been a child’s screams.
Steadying himself, he carried the glass to her. ‘Drink it.’
‘I don’t want—’
‘Drink it, or I’ll pour it down your throat, with pleasure.’
She considered knocking it out of his hand, then embarrassed them both by curling into a ball and whimpering. Giving up, Summerset set the drink aside, tucked the blanket more securely around her, and went out with the object of contacting Roarke’s personal physician.
But it was Roarke himself he met on the landing.
‘Summerset, don’t you ever sleep?’
‘It’s Lieutenant Dallas. She’s—’
Roarke dropped his briefcase, grabbed Summerset by the lapels. ‘Has she been hurt? Where is she?’
‘A nightmare. She was screaming.’ Summerset lost his usual composure and dragged a hand over his hair. ‘She won’t cooperate. I was about to call your doctor. I left her in her private suite.’