I didn’t specifically tell him he had to do that, but it earns him praise and a reward.
“Youarea clever one,” I say. “Good job!”
The hint of a pleased smile tries to break through before he schools his expression. “Thank you, Sir.”
After I clear the bowls I toss him a pillow. “See? Good boys earn rewards.”
“Thank you, Sir.” He puts the pillow behind his back, wincing as he eases himself against it.
He’s got to be hurting like a motherfucker but I’m not giving him anything stronger than ibuprofen for his pain because I need him clear-headed.
With the chair back in its previous position, I straddle it and study him for a moment. “You grew up in foster care. What was that like?”
I think he was expecting a lot of questions but not that. “It sucked.”
I get him talking about his childhood, what he remembers about his mom, what led him to enlisting and how he made it to Germany.
“Tell me about when you met Elsa Pfeiffer.” The scowl he makes is the first hint of balking I’ve seen since we started talking this time, so I nip it in the bud. “You don’t need to know why I want to know all of this. Remember, easy way or hard way.”
He deflates and starts talking.
As he does, my rage grows. Especially when I can see how damaging this all was for him. He sounds steadier than he did earlier today, but his voice wavers as he talks, and a few times he has to stop and swallow back tears before continuing.
I don’t interrupt.
Once he reaches the point in the story where Elsa had Carter fuck him for the first time, I mark that as our ending point. He’s exhausted, drained, and hurting.
Sliding a travel toothbrush and toothpaste over to him, I stand and move the chair. “That’s enough for tonight,” I gently tell him. “It’s nearly ten at night. You can turn the light off and sleep. I will be sleeping out here in this room, but first I’m going to take a shower in the other bathroom. I will check on you one more time before I go to bed by knocking on the bathroom door. You’d better answer me. Understand?”
He nods. “Yes, Sir. Thank you.”
“I’ll let you take another shower in the morning after breakfast.” I slide another protein drink into the bathroom, and a protein bar. “There’s a snack, ifneed them. How do you get my attention if you need it?”
“Knock three times and wait, Sir.”
“Good boy. Sleep well.”
“Thank you, Sir. You, too.”
I hold back my smile until I have the door shut and secured. Normally, I’d be worried he was playing possum by giving in this easily, but he was already broken long before we crossed paths. Most of the work was done for me, unfortunately.
All I have to do is take advantage of the situation and help rebuild him the way I want him to be.
I have a very limited amount of time in which to accomplish that.
Removing the balaclava, I run my hand through my hair and scratch my scalp. I hate the stupid thing, because it’s hot, and it’s annoying, but at the rate we’re progressing, I might be able to ditch it tomorrow. For now, I want him to sit with his thoughts overnight and process everything he’s told me.
Because I also want him fully sitting with the emptiness in his life and how Carter was the only person to ever make him feel alive and wanted. I want him recalling those feelings.
That means he’ll latch on to me harder and a lot faster.
Chapter Twelve
Eddie passes the night uneventfully. I check on him before I go to sleep and again when I awaken around three in the morning.
When I bring him his breakfast, he’s sitting up, the light on, with both blankets folded and under him as padding. His face is a little less swollen, but the bruising is worse now, dark purples and blues that will fade over the next few days.
I almost regret hitting him in the face now. Then again, had everything not happened exactly as it did, he’d already be cold and buried in the ground and I’d have never known his connection to Carter or to Cunningham.
