When we’re alone, I ask the question at the forefront of my mind. “Why don’t you know what happened to me?”
Dante wraps his fingers around my nape, brushing his thumb over the side of my neck. “Our convoy was attacked.” A muscle ticks in his jaw. “You disappeared during the gunfight.”
My mouth goes dry. “How long was I missing?”
His nostrils flare. “Five days.”
Five days?
Blood gushes in my ears as I digest the fact. “Do you think someone took me?”
“I don’t have answers yet, but I’ll find them. What matters is that you’re here now.”
“Can I have my phone?” Something else is worrying me. “I have to speak to my mom. She must be worried sick.”
He drops his hand from my neck and stares at me for a long moment.
“Dante?”
“Your parents died four years ago.” Emotions darken his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Shock slams into me, and then grief. “What?” My breath catches. “How?”
“Car accident.” His jaw hardens. “I’m sorry you have to go through that all over again.”
Too upset to form a coherent sentence in my mind, I can only stare at him.
Dante’s words are gentle. “Let’s deal with your health first. The doctor wants to check on you again.” Caution slips into his tone. “He wants to examine you more properly now that you’re awake.”
Numbness creeps over me, mercifully dulling the pain in my heart even though I know instinctively that pain has long since been a part of me. I recognize it as a person would recognize a familiar face. Like a permanent resident, it’s moved in to stay.
Dante continues with an unmistakable graveness that underlies his statement, his words hesitant yet strong. “We have to make sure of the extent of your injuries to determine if you’ve been assaulted.”
His meaning hits me between the eyes. If I’ve been violated, he means.
I swallow at that, my stomach churning.
“I’m here for you.” He locks his fingers around my wrist, caressing the tender spot on the underside with his thumb. “No matter what.”
The contact is soothing, his touch calming me.
Summoning my courage, I lift my chin. “Let’s get it over with.”
He lifts my wrist to his mouth and presses his lips on my pulse. “I won’t let anything happen to you again.” He delivers the vow with brutal intensity. “I promise you that on my life.”
Chapter
Twelve
Dante
* * *
The doctor confirms there are no signs of sexual abuse. Except for the presence of a powerful drug in Tatiana’s blood sample, the tests show no abnormalities. Tatiana’s relief eats a hole in my chest. It’s my fault she has to go through this ordeal. Because I didn’t protect her, she has to deal with unspeakable trauma and suffer the death of her parents all over again.
I’m beating myself up over my failure while I wait in my study. Tatiana is getting dressed for her appointment with the psychiatrist at the hospital. Dr. Chad comes with the highest recommendations. She has an excellent track record. I checked out her credentials and her patient reviews. The fact that the waiting period for an appointment is months long speaks for itself. As a close friend of my GP, she moved appointments to squeeze Tatiana in.
My GP already briefed Dr. Chad on Tatiana’s condition. Given the diagnosis, the psychiatrist scheduled a CT scan and a few other tests.
