Jesus fucking Christ.
Thick welts cover her skin in haphazard patterns.
Whip marks.
Having tortured people myself, I know exactly what kind of force it takes to make those kinds of marks. How the skin splits open as the metal spike tears through it.
A violent rage forms a red haze around my vision.
The excruciating pain she had to endure.
“You’re okay,” Lara whispers as if she’s trying to reassure herself, her voice void of emotion. “You’re okay. It doesn’t matter. You’re okay.”
“Fuck,” I snap, and quickly shrugging off my jacket, I wrap it around her shoulders.
“Leave,” I shout, glaring at the murmuring guests.
The entertainment hall clears at the speed of light.
I wrap my arms around Lara, and lowering my head, I say, “Everyone’s leaving.”
She doesn’t respond. When it’s only my family and us, I pull back and frame her way too pale face. “Lara?”
There’s a vacant look in her eyes as if all the life has been drained from them.
“You’re okay,” she keeps whispering. “You’ve survived worse. You’re okay.” The words are so soft I almost miss them.
My heart. She’s shutting down.
“Don’t you dare shut me out.” Grabbing her by the shoulders, I shake her hard. “Look at me, Lara!”
“Allah Allah,” Nisa murmurs, distraught with worry.
My grandmother moves closer, a trembling hand covering her mouth.
Finally, Lara’s eyes focus on mine, and I frame her face again, pleading, “Let me in. Don’t hide this from me.”
Her features contort with heartache. “I ruined the party.”
“You did no such thing.” I lean down, not wanting to lose her attention.
Her eyes start to shimmer with unshed tears, but she clenches her jaw to keep from crying.
“Jesus, Lara, you’re killing me. Just let it out. Let me help you carry this.”
She shakes her head and tries to pull away from me. “Don’t you fucking dare!” I snap.
Instantly, she stops, then she gives me a pleading look, her chin quivering.
I’m fucking determined to get inside her head. Pressing my forehead to hers, I order with every ounce of dominance I have, “Let. Me. In.”
There’s so much pain on her face, it cracks my heart right down the middle. Suddenly a sob bursts from her, and she slams into my chest, burying her face against me.
My arms form steel bands around her as she finally gives in and breaks.
Looking at my family, I murmur, “Leave us.”
One by one, they walk out of the room, giving us privacy.
I lower my head and say, “I’ve got you, baby. Let it all out.”
Her sobs are pure fucking torture. I pull the jacket away from her, dropping it on the floor. Moving my hand to her back, I gently caress the marks left on her skin by that fucking mad man.
“Mazur did this to you?”
She nods, burrowing as close to me as possible.
With the height I have on Lara, I can see a part of her back and notice some welts are still healing.
“When was the last whipping?”
I think I already know the answer but can’t brace myself in time as she says, “When… I was late… with the… food.”
I close my eyes as a wave of suffocating regret hits.
She was beaten like an animal because of me.
My voice is hoarse as I whisper, “I’m so fucking sorry.” I press a kiss to the side of her head, then pull back so I can see her face. Tears sparkle over her cheeks, each one cutting into my soul.
When her eyes meet mine, I repeat, “I’m sorry for the part I’ve played in all the pain you were forced to endure.” Leaning down until there’s only a breath between us, my voice is tight as I say, “I’m sorry for not finding you sooner.”
Lara throws her arms around my neck, holding me as tight as she can. “You don’t care… about the… marks?”
The way she hiccups through the sobs just shreds my heart.
“Of course, I fucking care but not for the reason you think.” I brush a hand up and down her back, wanting her to know they don’t change how I feel about her. “I hate that you suffered. I swear I’m going to fucking whip Mazur to death so he can feel what you felt.”
She starts to calm down but doesn’t let go of me. I hold her for as long as she needs and wait for her to pull back.
She gives me an apologetic look, then glances around the empty room. “I really ruined the party.”
“You didn’t. The people were aggravating the fuck out of me. You just gave me an excuse to get rid of them.” I brush my thumbs over her cheeks. “Once you’re ready, the party will continue.”
“I need the shawl.”
I crouch down, and picking up my jacket, I shrug it back on as I say, “You don’t need it.”
“But…”
I shake my head. “You have nothing to hide, Lara. You’re fucking beautiful, so lift your chin high and wear your scars with pride.” I frame her face again and look deep into her eyes. “You bled for them, and they show how amazingly strong you are. Never hide them.”