Tough Love

Chapter Forty-Nine

“How about we go for a drive? You need to get out of here. You should get some air.”

“Ok.”

“We'll just drive around for a bit and you can have the window open, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

As we drive around the city, Eli points out different tourist sights; things I haven't seen since I was 10 years old. We get home at 10 til midnight and I can honestly say I enjoyed myself. “Thank you, Eli. I liked that.”

“Good. I'm happy you enjoyed it. You should get some rest. Do you want me to sleep in your room?”

He knows I'm going to say yes, but he asks every night anyway. The nightmares are more manageable when he is there; there's no way I'm going to give that up easily.

“Yes sir, if you don't mind.”

“Of course not. Go get ready for bed and I'll bring your medication in.”

When Eli appears in my doorway, he's in an old Special Forces t-shirt. I smile a little at the thought of him being in the Army. When I really think about it, I realize I'm actually very luck to have met Eli. I mean, there's probably no one better to protect me than someone who was in Special Forces, is there?

He stares at me for a minute or two and then he asks, “What you smiling at?”

“You.” The truth slips out before I can stop it and there's a moment of panic in me when I realize he could blow up at that simple word.

Instead of blowing up or getting angry, he simply questions, “Me?”

“Yes sir. Just thinking how lucky I am to have you here.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. That t-shirt makes me wonder if there's anyone else out there better equipped to protect me...”

I feel the blush rising on my cheeks at such a confession. I don't know what has happened to me in the last few days. I would never admit these things before.

“Well, there are more people who are better trained than me, but I'm glad you are confident in my ability to take care of you. I just hope I can live up to that standard. You ready for the shot?”

“Yes sir.”

As he raises my sleeve, he runs his fingers over my scars. I look away, ashamed of the lines that run across the tops of my arms. I can feel myself trembling but not just from fear. It seems like Eli's touch has become less scary, like he is slowly breaking through the bad memories.

He gives me the shot and his fingers trace the scars on my upper arm. He whispers, “Are they both like this?”

I don't know why, but I feel the compulsion to answer instead of evading the question like I usually do.

“Yes sir.”

“Look at me, Dani. You don't need to be ashamed. It's not your fault. Did it hurt?”

My eyes flicker to Eli's for a brief second and I see genuine concern and interest in his expression. I whisper, “You have no idea...”

“Anything like being shot?”

I shrug and say, “I've never been shot. Actually, that's one thing I haven't experienced.”

“I'm so sorry, sweetheart. You shouldn't have gone through any of that.”

“Not your fault. Eli?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you been shot before?”