His Shortcake

Chapter 47

Tamara Ramirez

When I first opened my eyes, the overwhelming brightness flooded my vision, forcing me to squint against the harsh light. The air in the room felt fresh and clean, devoid of any foul odors; instead, it carried the faint, reassuring scent of antiseptic and freshly laundered sheets. It was nothing like the dark, suffocating places I had grown accustomed to. This space felt airy, almost as if I had finally returned home after a long and harrowing journey. I instinctively closed my eyes again, then opened them slowly, allowing my surroundings to come into focus.

The first thing I saw was Alec's face, and my heart ached at the sight. He looked worn, dark circles shadowing his eyes, his hair unkempt, as if he hadn't bothered to groom himself in days. His features were tense, and I noticed the tight grip he had on my hand, his knuckles white with strain. It struck me as strange that he looked so unlike himself, a reflection of the stress he must have endured during my absence.

As I shifted my focus inward, I expected to feel the familiar aches and pains that came with the beatings I had suffered. But to my astonishment, my body felt... okay. I tentatively began to pat myself down, fingers brushing over my skin as I searched for the bruises that should have marked my body—evidence of the violence I had endured. I felt nothing. No swelling, no tender spots, not a single bruise or wound to indicate the torment I had faced.

"What...?" I whispered, the words barely escaping my lips, lost in a mix of confusion and disbelief.

Questions flooded my mind like a torrent, overwhelming me. Was I unconscious for months, leaving no trace of the bruises and wounds that should have marked my body? Had it been years? How long had I been asleep? And most importantly, was I truly safe now?

With each frantic thought, my heart began to race, a drumbeat echoing in my chest that resonated with the beeping of the vital signs monitor beside me. The steady rhythm escalated, becoming a frantic series of beeps that filled the room with urgency. Immediately, I felt Alec's gaze shift to me, his expression a mix of concern and relief.

"Shh... Calm down," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. I could see tears glistening in his eyes, and his hand trembled as it cupped the side of my face, as if I were something fragile and precious. "It's okay. You're safe. See?" He gestured around the room, trying to reassure me.

I took in my surroundings: Emil stood by the door, his posture relaxed but weariness etched on his face, while Dustyn lingered behind Alec, watching me with a worried smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. To the left of my bed, a doctor and two nurses stood ready, their presence professional yet warm, waiting to check on my condition.

"But I was in a basement," I stammered, my voice shaking. "And Noah was there. He was there too." Frustration bubbled within me as the memories of their abuse crashed over me like a wave, leaving me gasping for breath. I clutched my head between my hands, desperate to push the horrifying images away.

"Miss Ramirez," the doctor said, his voice steady, drawing my focus away from the chaotic swirl of my thoughts.

"Mara," I corrected him abruptly, the name feeling foreign on my tongue, yet reclaiming it felt like a small step back to myself.

He smiled gently. "Mara," he repeated softly before continuing, "I just have a few questions for you. Is that okay?"

I nodded, feeling a flicker of reassurance as he began asking about my pain levels, if anything hurt. Each question felt like a tether to reality, grounding me in this bright room. Then he asked me to follow the light of a pen as he moved it side to side. I did, focusing intently, trying to anchor myself amid the storm of confusion.

But then came the questions that made my stomach drop—my full name, my age, the date.

When he asked for the date, a heavy silence fell over me. I froze, dread pooling in my stomach. I had no idea what day it was. How long had I been trapped in that dark room? How long had I been under the control of my captors? The uncertainty sent my heart racing again, the monitor's beeping growing more frantic. I could feel the doctor's steady gaze on me, his demeanor calm as he urged me to breathe.