Bend Me, Daddy

Enzo

I immediately lowered my weapon when I saw there was only one occupant in the room. The woman cowering on the mattress was nothing like the confident female who'd shown up at my door in a dress that looked like it was made of nothing but fucking bandages. I almost walked away, thinking I had the wrong room, until I saw a lock of pink hair sticking out from beneath the sheet covering her body and most of her face. "Sera?"

Her sob was raw and painful in my ears, but she didn't move. Didn't come to me. I scanned the room, wondering if someone was in there with her. If it was a trap. But I saw no one. I slid on the safety and shoved my gun down the back of my pants, then pulled out my cell phone and called Tristan.

He answered on the first ring. "Yeah."

"I've got her. Is everything clear outside?"

"You're good to go. I'll meet you at the front door."

He didn't ask if anyone was left alive inside. There was no need to. I ended the call and slid the phone back into my pocket, then stepped fully into the room and closed the door, but didn't latch it. "Sera, baby. It's just me. You're okay." I spoke softly to her as I approached. "It's just me, baby girl. It's just me."

I knelt on the mattress and reached for the sheet with hands that shook with the effort it took me not to rip apart this entire fucking room, this entire house. I wanted to scream and rage that she'd been brought here. That I didn't find her sooner. That I didn't save her. All of the dead bodies littering the place? I wanted to kill them all over again. Only slower this time. But I kept my movements steady, my voice calm, despite the violent anger erupting inside of me. She didn't need that shit from me right now. "It's just me," I repeated. "I won't hurt you."

Her movements were slow and sluggish as I pulled the sheet away so I could see her face. Her eyes were half shut, her mouth slack, as she tried to focus on me and keep the sheet over her at the same time. It took her a few seconds for her eyes to lock onto my face, but when they did, tears ran down her cheeks, and every time she exhaled, she did so on a sob. She smelled like lye. And the mattress she was on smelled like sweat and sex.

"You wanna keep the sheet? That's okay. You can do that," I told her. "But I'm taking you the fuck out of here." I brushed her hair back from her face. "I'm taking you out of here right fucking now."

She clutched the rough material to her chest with her arms still underneath and I wrapped it around her as best I could before I slid one arm around her back and one under her knees and picked her up. She weighed practically nothing as I stood with her. Did the bastards even fucking feed her? Or did they just use women up until they were worthless to them and then bring in the next batch?

As we entered the hall, I tucked her into my chest. "Don't look," I told her. She did as I said, burying her face into my bloodstained shirt as I picked my way over the bodies on the stairs and in the main room. I didn't stop to see what the other girls in the house were doing. They could stay or go as they pleased. They weren't my concern. I wasn't here to play the fucking hero. Just to get Sera back.

Tristan was standing guard at the front door when we arrived. When he saw us coming, he led the way out of the house, gun held casually by his thigh as he watched for anyone who might try to stop us until we reached the car Rene had loaned to us. But no one showed their face.

I slid into the backseat with Sera, and Tristan jogged around the front of the vehicle and got into the driver's seat. I held her tight against me as we drove out of the city to the small airport where Rene was waiting for us to ensure we got out of the country safely. Knowing how dangerous it was for us to be there like this, no one spoke a word until we were back on the private plane. Even then, I wouldn't let her go.

"What the hell did they give her?" Tristan asked as he took a seat across from us after thanking Rene for all he'd done to help us and promising to give his regards to Luca.

"I don't know," I told him. "If I were to guess, maybe large doses of Molly. But her pulse is strong and her color is decent. She'll be alright. It just needs to wear off."

He nodded, then buckled himself in for takeoff. I knew I should put Sera in the seat beside me and do the same for her, but I couldn't bring myself to even do that much. Besides, she had a death grip on my shirt, and she was completely nude underneath the sheet. I didn't think to look and see if there were any clothes in the house I could've brought for her, but there wasn't time anyway. And I sure as hell wasn't expecting they'd deny her something as decent as clothes. "I'll call Luca as soon as we're in the air and let him know we're on our way home."

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"Ask him to bring her some clothes." I laid my head back against the seat and closed my eyes. It was cloudy outside, and my sunglasses darkened things even more, but I couldn't sleep. Not until we were safely back across the border. By the time we landed two and a half hours later, my arm muscles were shaky from holding Sera so tight against me. She'd fallen into a fitful sleep on my lap almost as soon as we were seated, and I hadn't wanted to wake her. "Enzo?" She said my name so quietly I almost didn't hear her, her vocal cords scratchy and raw. But her eyes were open, and she had more muscle control in her face now.

"We're home," I told her. "Can you walk?"

"Probably." But she made no move to get off my lap as Tristan unbuckled his seatbelt and made his way to the front of the plane to pay the pilot. "Thank you for finding me," she whispered, and tears filled her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. "Thank you...for..."

"Shhh. You're welcome," I told her. "I'm taking you to my hotel, and we'll get you cleaned up. Luca is bringing you some clothes."

"Okay." She paused. "Is there a bathroom on this plane?"

"Of course." I lifted her gently off my lap and stood, holding her steady until I knew she wasn't going to fall over. The sheet gaped open in the front, and I ground my jaw when I saw the weight she'd lost.

"I'm sorry," she told me, her eyes on her feet as she tightened the sheet around her again.

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"You have nothing to be sorry for," I told her. "Hey." With one hand, I lifted her chin, but she wouldn't meet my eyes. "You have nothing to be sorry for," I insisted. "Do you hear me?"

She nodded, but I could tell she didn't believe me.

The door at the front of the plane was open, and Tristan was already down the steps. I gestured to him that we'd be right down and helped her into the small bathroom near the cockpit. "Do you need help?" She shook her head.

"Leave the door unlocked," I ordered, worried she'd pass out again. Then I stood in front of it with my arms crossed over my chest until she was finished. She was so weak she could barely hold the door open to get out and I had to help her. "Let's get you back to the hotel." I indicated for her to walk in front of me, noticing the way she flinched at every little noise. I didn't tell her she had no reason to be frightened. That there was no reason for her to act this way anymore. She'd been through a lot of trauma. It would take time for her to come back to the world she'd left behind. And she might never be the person she was before. Not fully.

I understood that. Better than most other people, perhaps. Though maybe not for the same reasons.

When she reached the door, she slowed, and then stopped. She took a step back.

"Sera?"