Leading Her from the Darkness

CHAPTER 15

PSA: There is some NSFW content 

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I look up at the ceiling out of sheer embarrassment, trying to hide my ever-growing emotions, and to avoid the look on Dawson's face. I can't bear to see it right now.

He lowers himself to his knees as his hands travel down to settle on my hips. Even though I can't see him, I feel the anger pouring out of him. However, he stays quiet.

His fingers twitch against my waist, briefly tightening due to seeing the grotesque evidence of my past and now my present, that's splattered all across my torso. In his new and expanding revelations of my past secrets coming to the surface, he places an intimate kiss right above my navel.

His warm touch sends waves of shock through me as I flinch back, moving away from the unfamiliar contact, out of instinct - a defense mechanism that my body has taken on, from years of being met with angry outbursts and abuse. I feel his fingers brush over my deep purple flesh, over my ribs before they trail their way over to the old round cigarette burns and raised gashes that are now a thinner and a lighter tone than that of my untouched skin.

He grabs the bottom of my towel and pulls lightly enough to grab my attention, making me nervously look down at him.

"Can I?" he whispers. I can see in his eyes that he knows there's more, and he genuinely needs to see every mark that has been left behind on my body.

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat and release the towel that had been tightly clenched in my hands and listen as it falls to the ground. My stomach clenches from dread, knowing how ugly they all must look to him.

His left palm lowers to cover the horizontal marks left behind by my own hand on my thighs, pressing his lips to each of them tenderly. I don't flinch away from his touch like before as he takes his time to make sure he gets every single one. Once he's finished, his eyes move up and grazes his fingers over the faint crescent shape of indentations from a bite mark that have faded over time - residing directly above my right breast.

My stomach heaves and my body begins to tremble at the memories that are now being closely analyzed by the man kneeling before me.

He notices my retraction before rising back to his feet. I'm still staring up at the ceiling to avoid his gaze. I rub my sternum, trying to breathe through my anxiety, as the ghosts of my past come swarming back to haunt me.

His fingers lightly grab my chin, coaxing me to look at him, but my eyes close in retaliation. He gradually wraps my towel back around my torso - I'm sure hoping to lessen my discomfort, but I still stay frozen in time.

"Please look at me," his voice pleads in a low, raspy whisper.

My body fights against his request, but I slowly force myself to bring my gaze to meet his breathtaking hazel eyes. My body warms as he stares into my soul, but I don't say anything; instead letting out an uneven sigh through my nose.

"I will make sure that man will never, ever be able to hurt you again. Or anyone else for that matter." His voice is stern, and his jaw clenches so tight that I am sure his teeth will crack at any moment. He looks as though he is trying to restrain the boiling rage that's begging to be set free, forbidding it from surfacing while I'm in my most vulnerable state. "I will always be here to protect you... from now on."

"That is a promise that just can't be made, Dawson. As much as I know you want to, you can't always be there to protect me from the world," I tell him, but he pulls me closer with a determined look on his face.