The Shadow Men

Chapter 9

"El. El, wake up. Eleanor." I was being shaken as I regained consciousness. I kept my eyes closed as I felt strong arms slide under me and lift me up. Dillon's familiar scent of fresh laundry and spice brought a traitorous smile to my face. "There you are," he whispered.

I opened my good eye to look up at him. "Here I am," I whispered back.

"They brought you back here, I see," he said. We both knew why. The pain of this place was tangible, almost a physical presence that I had caused.

"Mm-hm," I mumbled.

"Tim and Kelly already left. I told them we broke up last night and you went home. They offered to stay, but I sent them away."

"Mm," I hummed in acknowledgment.

He set me down on the couch inside the cabin and left the room. I heard the shower turn on, and he came back into the living room. He picked me back up, cradling me in his arms, and set me down inside the bathroom. I didn't protest as he carefully removed my blood-stained clothes. He removed his own and guided me into the shower with him. I closed my eyes and let him wash away all the evidence of last night's defiance.

"Your nose is broken. I need to set it. It's going to hurt," he said matter-of-factly. "Ready?"

I nodded. He put a hand on my cheek and gripped my nose with the other and popped it back into place. I squeaked and almost passed out again, but Dillon caught me. Fresh blood poured from my nose, but it subsided quickly. I could breathe through it again and the throbbing was already lessening.

"Thank you," I said tiredly.

He kissed me gently, a soft whisper of a kiss on my lips. "I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too," I whispered back.

I heard the sharp intake of his breath and felt his hands glide up my arms to rest on my shoulders, then slide up to cup my face.

"'Bout time, Ruiz," he said huskily before kissing me soundly. All my pain was momentarily forgotten as we memorized each other all over again; replacing the bad with the good. The Shadow Men were no longer welcome in this place.

"We need to do something about that shoulder," Dillon said as he dried me off with an oversized fluffy towel. "You've been hit there too many times. It's a miracle they haven't broken it yet."

"Yeah, a real gift from God," I said sarcastically.

"Was there a pattern this time?" he asked me.

I nodded. "Slap, push, punch, kick, punch, kick a bunch, punch."

"Slap?" Dillon asked aghast. "One of them slapped you?"

"Mm-hm," I said. "I think they've got a leader. He's the one who slapped me first, then waited until everyone had their turn and punched me right here," I pointed to the bruise on my temple. "Lights out."

"Could you tell the difference between him and the others?" Dillon asked all business.

"Not in any physical way, but it was obvious that he held all the power to start and stop the fight."

"That's interesting," Dillon said. "Anything else?"

"They didn't swarm me this time. They all took a turn, then the leader decided he'd had enough of me and knocked me out."

"Why didn't they swarm you?" he asked, eyes widening.

I shrugged. "I guess I just realized that I'm no longer afraid of them. All they can do is inflict physical pain. The emotional pain of last night was far worse than anything they could ever do to me."