Only The Strong Survive (Sequel to Survival)

Chapter 43- Ever So Secretly

I lay tangled in Jack's arms, spent and exhausted. He holds me with grace, my head nestled in the crook of his neck while his hand strokes my hair.

There were no words I could say that explains how I feel.

I simply feel alive.

I was content to stay like this until my growling stomach breaks the comfortable silence.

Jack's chest vibrates with laughter. "Hungry?"

Taking my head off his chest, I look at him, "A little."

He leans forward and places a kiss on my forehead. "Stay in bed. I'll make you something," he says before unfurling me from his arms.

Laying down, my head rests on a pillow, I watch him get up and reach down to pull his boxers up before striding out of my room, leaving me to my own thoughts.

That was amazing.

I have never felt anything so liberating. The way Jack made me feel, it was great.

But my smile leaves my face now that I have created a problem.

As my body sits up, I quickly reach for my red-patterned robe dangling from a hook. Barefoot, I dash for the bathroom to clean myself up. When I finish, my feet pad over to the kitchen where Jack finishes preparing a sandwich.

He must have heard me because he turns around and pulls out a chair for me.

I hug the robe to my body and sit at the outstretched chair that is before me. I flash him a smile when he places a deliciously-prepared sandwich.

For the first few minutes, Jack watches me eat. We don't say a word. We don't really have to. A comfortable silence settles over us.

But then Jack reaches for me and tugs on my robe that has fallen off one shoulder. His hands tug it back up but his fingers linger over my skin.

Looking down, I watch as his fingers trace over the scar on my bare arm. The scar I received from the gun wound all those years ago. From another life ago.

Despite the easiness between us, I sense Jack feeling distraught as he remembers that horrible night. A night he couldn't save me from.

I put my food down.

His eyes linger on my bare shoulder but I make no move to pull the robe over it.

"Jack? Come back to me," I whisper.

He blinks away the dark memories. Jack shakes his head, "I'm sorry. I was..."

Clearing his throat, he rasps, "I feels like it all just happened not so long ago."

I scoot my chair closer to him. "Are you alright?"

He looks me puzzled. "Me?"

I nod my head.

Jack would never admit it because we have different viewpoints. But I wasn't the only one who got hurt that night. I wasn't the only one who was raped.

Maybe it's society and the different expectations it has laid for men and women, but many people don't seem to believe a man can suffer from sexual abuse.

Jack was also raped that night. I know he didn't want to do the things he did. He was forced to against his will.

And I never thought of it like that until only recently. Every time I think about it, my heart shatters a little.

Reaching between us, I take his hand and squeeze it.

Jack looks at me and squeezes my hand in return.