I shook my head and rotated my wrist to hold her hand back. “I won’t. I’ll be right here. Whatever you need.”
Mikhail furrowed his brow but nodded. As he backed up, I stood and followed him to shut the door after him.
“Has she been?—”
I shook my head, not wanting Anya to hear him. I was worried about whether she'd been assaulted too. The severity of her trauma response could indicate anything. “I’ll ask. I’ll see what she will tell me.”
He gave me a look.
“I can assess her, but asking her to allow that if it’s not necessary won’t help. I need her to trust me to help her.”
He almost reached out to take my hand but lowered his at the last minute, as if rethinking it. “I trust you to help her.”
That meant a lot. It meant more than the honor and reward of his wanting to fuck me. Nodding quickly, I shelved this conversation for later. Helping Anya had less to do with him, with my wanting to help him, than it did with my instinct to make her feel safer and better.
I returned to her and helped her out of bed to go to the bathroom. At the door, I called out to the maid who would be waiting in the hallway, asking her to change the bloody sheets so Anya could rest on clean and dry ones after she cleaned up.
“I can’t move my arm enough to… to…”
“I’ll help,” I said, not waiting to assist her with her blouse.
“It hurts to lift it.”
I nodded. “It will. It’s swollen, but not dislocated.”
She swallowed hard, lowering her hands to her pajama bottoms. “I can’t bend well either. My knee.”
I urged her toward the chair at her vanity. “Nice and slow. Easy.”
“They didn’t… They didn’t…” She sniffled, crying softly. “I was so scared they kidnapped me to rape me. That’s what my family told me. That my father only associates with horrible rapists who sell women.”
I winced, unable to confirm or deny that. Focusing on her seemed smarter. “But the men who took you didn’t touch you?”
She shook her head, leaning back as I helped to lower her pants. “No. They said, they… they…”
“No rush, Anya. Deep breaths, okay? In and out. In and out.”
Once she stood again, she turned to give me her back to take off her bra and panties. I’d seen it all. Men, women, seniors, and babies. The naked human body didn’t affect me with my clinical mindset, and it seemed that in her shock and fear, the fatigue, too, she wasn’t too modest to take the rest of her garments off and step into the shower. I turned, though, giving her all the privacy I could, as she handled the last of her clothing. I couldn’t leave, though, not only because I wanted to be close to help her if she tripped or fell, but also because she kept begging me not to leave her.
As she stood under the warm water, she cleaned up. Mostly, she sagged against the wall. With her eyes closed, she let the massaging pressure hit her skin. Through the frosted glass doors, I could see her and make sure she was upright and safe.
“They said no one could touch me. Because if they didn’t kill me, they’d get a better price for me if I was pure.”
I set my teeth together so hard, it ached in my jaw.
Those fucking assholes!
“I am glad they didn’t touch you like that,” I told her, sticking with facts and avoiding too much emotion. She was leaning on me for guidance, and coddling her and babying her could backfire.
“I’m glad he cared to come get me.” She broke down, sobbing. Afraid she’d fall, looking like a terrified child and not the petulant teen who neared adulthood, I shed my jeans to step into the stall with her. Holding her up and letting my clothes get wet, I gave her the support she was too traumatized to ask for.
I held her up and let her sag against me as she bawled, admitting that she thought she’d be dead. That Mikhail hated her and didn’t want her here. That he’d be glad to see her gone. That she had no one and nothing left in the world.
Soothing her with cooing sounds and repeating a mantra that she mattered, that she had so much to live for, I worked on getting her to calm down, to breathe steadily.
Overwhelmed and traumatized like this, she was on the edge of collapsing.
Eventually, she nodded when I asked if she was ready to get out. I stepped out first and dried myself before getting a towel for her. She looked so weak and tired that I feared one or both of us slipping. Without urgency, careful to move slowly, I helped her out of the shower and led her back to her bed. I again gave her privacy to pull on a nightgown.
