how filthy I feel. But I know that it’s going to take a long time before I finally feel clean.
I feel the rumble of Sammy’s chest as he talks, and I simply squeeze my eyes shut and recall the faces of the three men.
Antonio, Frankie, Roman.
“I’m going to put you in this chair, Rachel,” Sammy says, bringing me out of my head. “Then go get Laura.”
I jerk my head back in shock.
“Please, don’t leave,” I beg. “Please, don’t leave me alone.”
I don’t want to sound weak, but at this moment, I feel weak. And I feel safe to feel weak as long as Sammy is with me.
“Alright, baby,” he says. “Do you need help getting this off?”
I glance down, only now noticing that I’m still wearing a hospital gown.
I nod my head and hope that he doesn’t expect that this will go any further tonight. I’m not ready for that just yet but I don’t think I can do this alone.
“Alright,” he says softly, placing me on the chair inside the walk-in shower.
Without another word, he unties the two gowns on either side of my body and lifts me off the seat to completely remove them.
“Mother fuckers,” Sammy says.
I follow his gaze down to the large finger-shaped bruises on both of my hips.
Sammy’s eyes roam up from my hips in a slow caress as he takes in the rest of me. It’s not done in a sexual way. If anything, the look of murder in his eyes the whole time takes any playfulness away.
I look away as his eyes near my breasts knowing what he’ll find.
“I’m going to fucking kill them,” he growls. “Slowly.”
I watch his hand reach forward and I shake my head.
“Please, don’t touch it,” I beg. “I’m so dirty, Sammy. Please, don’t let it get on you any more than it already has when you held me.”
The storm in his eyes grows with intensity as he pulls back. He doesn’t say anything as he starts the water. The feeling of water drifting down my skin is a relief, but it isn’t enough.
“Soap,” I beg.
I take the washcloth Sammy holds out and squeeze a large amount of someone’s body wash. I scrub my body until it’s raw but it’s not working. Leaning forward, I turn the cold water down until all I feel is hot.
I watch as my skin turns red from the water and rawer from scrubbing. But it’s still not working. I still feel dirty.
My tears are falling full force, mingling with the hot water cascading down my face. I lean forward and turn the cold water completely off.
The scalding water burns my skin, but I need more. Squeezing more soap on my cloth, I scrub between my legs until the only thing I feel is pain.
And still, the dirty feeling remains.
I scream in frustration at the unfairness of my life. I’m a good person. Why did this happen to me? What did I do to deserve something so horrible?
I lean forward in resignation as the hot water engulfs my back.
I stay in this position and cry until the water runs cold. Then I lean back and let the cold water sting my skin in the hopes of it helping clean me.
I’m not sure how long I just sit here when the water turns off and I glance up to see Sammy watching me with such sadness. I watch as the tears fall freely down his face and land on the floor.
“Baby,” he says roughly. “Let me help you.”
I shake my head.
“It’s no use, Sammy,” I cry. “I’m dirty. I’ll never feel clean again.”
Sammy reaches for a towel and gently dry’s my face.
“You’re not dirty,” he says. “And the type of clean you need isn’t something that we can fix with soap and water. If you can trust me, sweetheart, then, with time, I’ll make you feel clean again.”
I want to doubt what he says but I’m so desperate that I need to know how.
“How?” I ask
“With love, baby,” he says, kissing my forehead. “With love and with care. Now, let’s get you dried off and dressed.”
I sit patiently as he dries off my body and realize that Sammy’s touch and his words are already working better than soap and water. I focus on his touch as he pulls off his shirt and helps me into it.
I smile against his neck as he lifts me, making sure his shirt is tucked beneath my butt.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He doesn’t respond with words, but his arms holding me