One Sided Love

Chapter 44

I wake up in the same place, exactly the same position.

Everything comes back.

I hear birds singing as the morning light comes through the bedroom window and warms by back.

The birds sing so sweetly, if not for the pain I am in I would have listened to it and relaxed.

I can finally move my legs. I shift them and feel a crusty, sticky substance. I look down.

Blood.

Dried blood all down my legs. Blood soaked into the bed.

I lowly shriek in horror as the tears come back. I try to kick my weak legs to get away from the blood-stained patch of bedding.

Damian moves. He kisses my head before looking down.

"Shit!" He says quickly and gets up.

He runs into the bathroom and I hear water running. I just look down between my legs in shock.

There's more than last night.

More blood, so much more.

I didn't even realise he came back until he scoops me up off the bed and into the bathroom.

The movement of him carrying me in his arms strains my stomach. Pain spreads through me and I whine from it.

He sets me down on the counter, I dare not look in the mirror behind me.

I wince at the soreness of my lower half as he sat me down. I still cradle my wrist in my 'okay' hand and I hunch over to try to ease the pain in my abdomen.

He searches in the cupboard bellow me and pulls out baby wipes and antiseptic wipes.

He stands up and looks at me. I can feel his eyes on me. He looks over my body, assessing his work.

"I did go a bit hard on you, didn't I?"

No shit.

"Lean back against the wall. I need to clean you up, then you can have a bath. It'll help with the soreness."

He places a hand softly on my shoulder and slowly pushes me against the wall. I grunt softly as my body moves against my will.

Once against the wall I try to sort out my breathing that had gone uneven as I moved. I let out a sharp yelp as he takes my left wrist in his hand, moving both of my arms away from my chest.

He looks at my left wrist, he knows it's broken too.

He looks back to my chest and smiles when he sees his mark.

"This is going to scar beautifully." He comments looking at the vile carving "Hold still, this will sting" he then proceeds to clean it with antiseptic wipes.

In truth. I didn't feel it, the pain in my abdomen overrules it. Pulsating, bruising, scraping, stabbing, tearing, pain that sends shockwaves through me constantly. If I move the pain increases beyond bearable.

"Perfect" he remarks still looking at it. He then proceeds to clean my whole torso with baby wipes and even my face from the dried tears and snot.

He looks down at my legs "you shouldn't have said that babydoll" he says placing a hand on one of my knees, looking down "you shouldn't have ever though it would have been a good idea to of lied to me about such a thing. Especially after trying to run, it was stupid of you."

I don't respond.

The words go straight though me.

Of course it's all my fault this happened. I wouldn't expect him to say any different.