She seemed to be registering his words and then her hands covered her face and she cried. The whimpering sounds tore at his hardened heart. He glanced at the others, who all looked overwhelmed and at a loss as how to help her get through this.
Fenton didn’t know what to do, but somehow he figured out what she needed.
He gave the command for the dogs to get off the bed and he lay down beside India and pulled her into his arms and rocked her until she finally calmed down.
* * * *
India was embarrassed but the fear and the lack of control she had over waking up really got to her. The images still raw in her head as she felt the gun against her temple, the hands on her throat, and the strikes to her body over and over again. It was like she was caught in it and couldn’t get free.
She should be pushing away from Fenton of all people, but instead she inhaled his cologne and wedged deeper against his muscular
chest and took what she needed to get through this. She didn’t want them to leave her. She didn’t want to be alone. She felt panicked, scared, and it was so unlike her.
“Easy now, just breathe,” Ford said. The others were there and all surrounding her.
“I think you’re going to be okay now. Why don’t we fix this bed and the pillows,” Fenton told her and she shook her head and made him stay exactly where he was.
“Stay,” she whispered.
The bed dipped and she started shivering, being surrounded by five sexy, military men. The bed sure was big enough, but why was she being so clingy? Why did her mind keep telling her that she needed one of them or all of them to stay right here or she wouldn’t be getting any sleep at all?
When the second set of hands landed on her hip and thigh, she snuggled tighter against Fenton.
A strong calloused hand began to stroke along her thigh. She clung to Fenton’s bare chest. Her lips pressed against his skin and he tightened up, held her wrist in place against his side, and hissed.
“India,” he whispered through clenched teeth.
She tilted her head up to look at him and was shocked to see anger, disinterest, maybe annoyance with her. She lowered her eyes and the bruises, welts, and marks on her arm reminded her of what she looked like. Of course he was turned off and disinterested in even holding her.
She suddenly felt overwhelmed with emotions. She was embarrassed, angry, hurt, and disappointed that they didn’t even want to touch her or hold her and she was wearing hardly anything.
The deep sob came out of nowhere.
“India, what’s wrong?” Ford asked her and she pulled from Fenton onto her belly and tucked her arms under her sides and tried desperately to hold in the tears.
“India, it’s going to be okay,” Grey said from behind her.
She shook her head.
“I get it. Just leave me alone. I understand,” she said in such a tortured, insulted tone.
Fenton caressed her hair from her cheeks.
“You get what? What in God’s name are you rambling on about, woman?” He’d raised his voice at her and it pissed her off. She lifted up and held his gaze. He looked at her as if she were a nutcase.
“You don’t even want to hold me or be close to me because of how I look. I’m ugly. I’m bruised everywhere and none of you can even stand it. Just leave me. I’ll get through this.”
“Are you out of your mind?” Flynn asked.
She rolled to her back and looked at him. He had one knee on the bed and was only wearing boxers. His blue eyes seemed to darken as he zeroed in on her body.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. Your body should be fucking illegal, and you lie here and think that we don’t want to touch you? That we don’t want to explore every inch of you?”
Her heart hammered in her chest and the feel of Ford’s hand on her belly brought her attention to him.
His blue eyes held hers. “If we look angry, pissed off, or even disgusted, it has nothing to do with you. It has to do with the thoughts of you sustaining such injuries by the hands of such evil, abusive individuals.”
“If Ford hadn’t stopped me, I was going to Chicago to hunt those fuckers down and take them out myself,” Fenton admitted.