The huge handprint-shaped bruise on my arm was dark and angry on my skin, and I knew it would take weeks to fade.
My heart beat in my chest in heavy thumps as worries of the unknown bombarded my mind. What did he want with me? What was he a part of? Surely whatever operation I had been in was not legal, that was for sure.
A soft knock on the door made me jump back, releasing my pale reflection from itself.
“You okay?” he asked, opening the door slightly.
“Yes,” I squeaked out.
He opened the door wider once he realized I was finished. I refused to meet his eyes, preferring to look at the floor, one hand limp at my side with the other keeping my balance.
“Do you need help to get back to the bed?” he asked, stepping in.
I nodded, knowing I wouldn’t make it on my own as my legs already shook with fatigue.
He slowly took the last few steps towards me, being careful to pick me up and carry me back to the bed. I didn’t want to, but I held onto him, my arm around his neck, eyes stuck to my lap. My stomach did flips at his touch. He sat me gently down on the edge, taking a step back.
“I’d offer to let you get cleaned up,” he began, running a hand along his jawline, voice low. “But I’d have to help you, as you can hardly stand on your own. I’m sure you don’t want that.”
I quickly shook my head. No matter how appealing a nice warm shower sounded, I wasn’t up to letting him see me naked. Although I wasn’t dirty, I felt like I was. My head itched and I wanted out of this dress, into my old comfortable pj's. But more so, I was just so dang tired.
“Rest,” he said with a nod of his head towards the pillows. “I’ll get you some food.”
With another nod, I made myself comfortable, my head on the pillows. I felt so small in such a huge bed with it’s black as night comforter. Before I could think anymore about it, my eyes fell closed and sleep took me.
