Her Soldier (That Girl #3) (2 page)

Chapter 2

Jenni

“Where are we going?” Streetlights whiz past my vision. I try to lift my head to make eye contact with the stranger who saved me. Through sheer terror and the darkness, his features were hard to make out while everything happened. The one thing that stood out was his prominent jawline.

“I’m taking you to the hospital.”

His deep and very determined voice snaps me from my thoughts. When I look over at him, he’s concentrating on the road with a white-knuckle grasp on the steering wheel. His breathing is heavy, and the lighting from the streets magnify the sweat droplets peppering his forehead.

“I don’t need a hospital.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

I try to sit up a little straighter to plead my case, but when I do, a sharp pain shoots straight up my right side, causing me to yelp. The truck comes to an abrupt stop, increasing the agony in my side.

“Come here.” Strong hands slide me across the front bench of the truck. “I’m going to hold you up against me as tight as I can while I drive you to the hospital.”

He moves swiftly, and I’m up next to him within seconds. Before I know it he has the truck moving again. The pain lingers in my side and tears come to my eyes. The pain is just the cherry on the top. The tears are from the utter horror of begging for my life. They begin to run faster with the thoughts of having to face Lynlee and Jazzy and their disappointed faces. Then the fact I was just saved from death by a complete stranger hits me again. My life is pointless.

They’ve had their suspicions and made me promise to stay away from him. I held up my end of the deal, or at least that’s what they thought. Maxton is a magnet for pain, and for some odd fucking reason I was unbelievably attracted to him. He was my last hope at a happily ever after, and I was just desperate enough to be abused by him in the hopes of him changing one day.

He’s knocked me around before, leaving bruises and cuts, most of which have been super easy to disguise with clothing and my expertise in makeup. This time I told him no and never showed up to his apartment. It took him two days to find me, and he really taught me a lesson this time.

“Do you think he would’ve killed me?” The words leave my cracked, bloody lips, and I instantly wish I never spoke them.

“I don’t know, but I do know I’m not finished with him myself.”

My head easily drops onto the stranger’s shoulder, easing the pain in my side.

“I’m so embarrassed.” I feel his hand drag me closer into him.

“Don’t be embarrassed.”

Neon red lights from the hospital’s emergency sign blind me as he stops the truck. The entry to the emergency room is dimly lit with a light spatter of rain beginning to fall.

“I’m going to open the door and pick you up. Hold your breath and hang on.”

I watch as the man slides out of his truck, and when he stands I’m amazed how tall he is. His stature fills the frame of the open door. If I met him in any different circumstance he would probably frighten me with his looks and stubble that covers his face. His expression is one you don’t fuck with or even question on the street, but since the minute I’ve encountered him he’s been nothing but welcoming. Something about his touch is addicting.

“Jenni, right?” He glides his olive tanned hand over to me, swooping me up in one movement. “I’m going to carry you in. I’ll keep your side pinned to me to help ease the pain. I’ve had my whole side shattered before, and I know the pain you’re in. Just listen to me. Look into my eyes, please.”

As if hypnotized, I listen to every single word he speaks. I understand the words, but it’s the honesty behind his gaze that convinces me. I can’t help but whimper as he adjusts me in his arms. He’s gentle, but any movement causes me to gasp in horror. It’s pain like I’ve never felt before, and I can’t quite make out if it’s the emotional trauma of being beaten in public or the physical throbs screaming from my body.

Dingy ceiling tiles fill my vision as he walks me through the waiting room and down a hall. I can tell he’s following a nurse’s panicked voice. His grip tightens with each step, and it helps offset the pain caused by each impact of his foot on the floor. When he rounds a corner, all the lights become brighter and voices become louder and faster paced. I have to tuck my head into his chest to protect my eyes from the glare. One eye is almost swollen shut, but the other is wide open and the light is a white-hot dagger in stabbing in my head.

My hand finds the side of his cheek as comfort. “Don’t leave me.”

Before he has a chance to respond, a barrage of other voices join in, commanding him to lay me on the bed, and the rapid fire of questioning begins. They want to know my name, age, what happened, living relatives, and the list just keeps going on. I try as long as possible to keep hold of him. First it was his hand and then a piece of his shirt, but before I know it he’s gone, and then everything goes dark.

***

Light barely comes back into my thoughts. Everything has been so dark for what seems forever. The only pictures haunting my thoughts were Maxton standing above me, ridiculing me with his words and then landing a blow to my face. The stranger would visit my thoughts once in a while, but those were very short-lived and blurry.

Sounds finally come to me. A pinging noise resembling rain patters softly somewhere, while footsteps and other clanging join in. I try to move my body, but feel paralyzed. Struggling again, I will myself to roll over, and when my body finally cooperates I scream from the movement. A tearing sensation rips through my entire body from head to the tips of my toes. Pain I’ve never felt before.

“What in the hell are you doing?”

The deep baritone voice scares the shit out of me, sending me straight back to the night when Maxton stood before me demeaning and beating me.
Wait, am I still there? Where am I?
Opening my eye, I don’t recognize any of my surroundings. It’s a cramped studio apartment with hardly any furnishings. The voice speaks again, but I’m unable to decipher a word through my panic.

Fighting through the pain, I finally sit up. My hands grip onto the light tan couch cushions, digging up the courage to stand and run. Finally my legs cooperate and I jolt forward.

“Jenni.” The deep voice is closer and my stomach twists. “It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you.”

By some miracle of nature, my body lunges forward and my feet work one step after another until I collide into a bare-chested man. Looking up into his face, I’m immediately relieved it is not Maxton. It’s the man who rescued me.

“Where am I?” I try to ask a question, but there are so many wanting to come from my mouth. “Who are…?”

“Jenni, please.” He takes my elbow, and I can only comply as he leads me back to the couch.

“No,” I try to protest.

He gently places me back on the cushions, and I’m reminded of how he saved me with each of his gracious moves and caring touch. My nerves ease a bit, but not much considering how foggy my brain feels.

“Jenni, I brought you back to my house.” He kneels down in front of me, and his bare chest brushes against my kneecaps. “You were scared and said you didn’t have anywhere to go. I waited for you and to see what the doctors had to say. You refused to talk to the police, and I couldn’t just leave you there.”

My hands frantically search for my phone and find nothing. I’m in an oversized pair of sweats and an unfamiliar hoodie. Slowly I drag my hands through my hair, trying to remember the conversation he’s talking about and can’t recall a thing. My fingers run into a fresh set of staples on the left side of my skull, and I immediately pull back.

“I don’t remember any of that.”

“It’s probably all of the meds you’re on.”

He stands, and this is the first time I get a good look at the whole man. He’s clothed only in jeans, with a bare chest and bare feet. His dark brown hair is a mess, with his face still peppered in his scruffy beard. He catches me staring and begins to back up quickly.

“I’ll go put a shirt on.” He covers his chest with his strong hands. “I didn’t think you’d wake up so soon.”

A slight awkward blush covers his face as he backs out of the living room. As I look around, there are only two doors in this whole place. I’m assuming the other one leads outside. Behind the couch is the kitchen with just a single bar countertop. A refrigerator, stove, and cabinets rest behind it, and in front of me there is a large window. It looks as if it may open up or even be a door. The final thing I notice is a television sitting on a crate in front of the couch.

I chuckle at the wooden crate. I’ve seen so many of those over the past few years at frat parties and other college gatherings. It’s the one staple every college student has. I’m not sure if it’s because they are so cheap or look good with beer stains on them. I find myself smiling at my thoughts.

My lips. I explore them with my fingertips, feeling all the cracks and scabs covering them. I inwardly wince imagining what I look like.

“Oh, here.” He’s back in the room with a dark gray V-neck, but still in bare feet. “They sent you home with this salve for your lips.”

He reaches into a plastic bag with a glaring blue logo on the front, and I watch as he pulls out a cream tube. Without a word, he sits next to me, and dips his finger into the ointment and spreads it over my lips.

Flashbacks of Maxton hurting me threaten to ruin this moment, and it takes every single part of me to remind myself he’s not Maxton.

“Who are you?” I reach for his forearm, stopping him from putting any more balm on my lips. “I need to know your name, at least.”

“My name is Beau.”

“Why did you help me?”

“Why wouldn’t I help you?”

“You don’t even know me.”

“I heard you screaming and the sounds of someone being hit. I had to help you. I mean, no one deserves that—no one, Jenni.”

Looking up into his face and still gripping his arm, I try to say thank you, but can’t find the words. “I’m not sure I deserved to be saved.”

Beau pulls his arm from my grip and begins to paint my lips with the balm again. It’s a menthol concoction, sending a slight sting into my lips, but the moisture from it is enough to soothe my injuries.

“Don’t you ever say that.” Beau cups my face, forcing me to look up into his mocha colored eyes. “I’d do it all over again.”

“Thank you.” The words slip out, barely audible.

“Do you want to call someone? I’m sure you have worried family and friends.” Beau drags my cellphone with a severely cracked screen from his pocket. “It still works. I put it on my charger last night.”

I shake my head. There’s no way I want to call my Aunt Danielle, who loves and cherishes me like her own daughter, only to disappoint her with the cold, hard fact I allowed myself to be used like a piece of trash. Then Lynlee and Jazzy enter my thoughts, and that’s a super quick
hell no
. They’ll be over here in an instant, forcing me to press charges against Maxton. I can already hear their judgmental accusations and
I told you so
quotes, then their men would be right behind them stewing to get to Maxton, and I’m sure they’d have a word or two for me as well.

Being beaten was embarrassing enough, then being saved by Beau was humiliating and humbling all at once. I don’t need anyone else judging me. I’m pretty sure I’m hard enough on myself.

“Stop.” Beau pulls me down into his hard chest and pats my head. “I can hear every one of your thoughts. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you need.”

My tears begin to pour down Beau’s chest at his kind thoughts and his comforting hands. This man doesn’t even know me, and yet is so kind and caring.

“I’m sorry to bring this into your life.”

“I’m not. Like I said, I’d save you all over again in a single heartbeat.”

Finally I relax into him. “I just feel like everyone is waiting for me to fuck up and then judge me. It’s like I’m okay to be there when they need something, but besides that they don’t want me.”

I feel Beau’s hand grip me tighter as he lays his head on top of mine. The scruff of his jaw scrapes against my forehead. His touch and smell make me feel at ease with everything, and in a weird way I don’t feel embarrassed to be here.

“I understand everything you just said more than you’ll ever know.”

“Thank you,” I murmur into his grey V-neck. “I’m not sure it’s okay for me to stay here. Maybe I need to go home.”

“I’m not going to tell you what to do, but I really think you need to have some help for the next couple days.” Beau’s chiseled chest raises, forcing me to sit back up on my own. The serious tone of his voice matches the look in his eyes.

“I have to pee.” Wanting to avoid all confrontation and serious thought, I just blurt out what’s on my bladder.

“Bathroom is in my room. You’ll see it.”

Forgetting what my body has been through, I stand and am instantly reminded of the pain. Clearly my right side is worse off than the left, because my right leg buckles under my weight, totally giving out on me. In the next second I’m plummeting toward the ground. My hand luckily catches the corner of the coffee table, so it’s not an outright fall. My knee slams down onto the hardwood floor as I try to figure what in the hell to do.