Tymber Dalton - Safe Harbor

She felt numb, in a good way. “That’s okay. That’ll be fine.”

Anything to shave and quit feeling like a filthy Sasquatch would be a blessing.

“Just leave your dirty clothes and the towels on the floor for me,” he said over his shoulder as he walked out.

“What?”

“I do the laundry,” he said from the bedroom. “And most of the cooking. The cleaning.” He paused. “I need to talk with Sully. He’ll probably want to let you do some of it. Anyway, we can work that out later. Tad’s going to be so glad to see you. He’s really missed you, talks about you all the time.”

With that, he walked out and softly closed the bedroom door behind him, leaving her feeling guilty as hell.

Uncle Tad was her only living relative besides a few distant cousins she didn’t even know. She should have stood up to Bryan, kept in better contact. He never should have had to go through this alone.

Well, bitching and moaning wouldn’t get her there any sooner.

She sorted dirty clothes from clean ones in her bag and dumped them in the bathroom. That didn’t feel right though. She felt guilty again, this time over saddling Mac with her laundry. She tried to tidy the pile a little.

Must be exhaustion.

She gave up, stripped, then turned, and studied herself in the bathroom mirror.

What a mess.

Turning, she saw the huge purplish-green swaths of bruises around her kidneys in addition to all the others.

That dealt the final blow to her psyche. She burst into tears, loudly sobbing. How had she let her life get so out of control as to reach this point? What was that stupid line, relying on the kindness of strangers?

Had she really sunk to that?

A knock sounded on her bedroom door. It opened a crack and Sully softly called to her.

“Clarisse? Are you okay, honey?”

Mac had even hung a robe on the back of the bathroom door. She grabbed it and pulled it on. “Yeah,” she called out as she sniffled. She wiped her face with her hands.

“Is it safe to come in?”

“Yeah.” She walked out to the bedroom.

He stuck his head in. “Are you really okay?”

She started to say yes, then burst into tears again and crumpled onto the end of the bed. He walked in and sat next to her. Despite her earlier hesitation, she let him put his arm around her as she cried against him. Mac appeared in the bedroom doorway.

“We promise he won’t hurt you again,” Sully quietly said. “I swear.”

“I’m sorry. I…it’s just that…it’s horrible. I look like a punching bag.”

“I’m going to make a suggestion. Please keep in mind I was a cop for over ten years.”

“Okay.”

“Did anyone get pictures of your injuries? Did you go to the hospital?”

“My friend Raquel took some. The cops took some. I don’t remember if the hospital did or not.”

“Do you want me to take another round for backup? Just in case you need them later?”

She didn’t want to, even though she knew it was a good idea. But she feared the file and the evidence getting lost and Bryan getting off, no matter how much they had assured her that wouldn’t happen.

He continued. “I can give you the roll of film to have developed. I don’t even have to see it after I take them.”

She took a deep, shuddering breath. “It’s probably better someone else has them. In case.”

Mac stepped into the room. When he spoke, his voice dropped in anger. “I’m telling you, if your boyfriend shows up, we’ll fucking kill him, I swear we will. We won’t give him another chance to hurt you.”

Sully flashed him a look that obviously meant shut up. “I’ll go put in a fresh roll of film. We can do it right here. Mac will get you a large towel so you can stay covered.”

She nodded.

He gently patted her thigh before leaving the room.

Mac fetched a large towel from the bathroom and turned on all the room lights. She felt touched that he held the towel and averted his eyes as she slipped the robe off and pulled the towel around her.

When he saw the bruises on her thighs, he sucked in a sharp breath.

“Son of a bitch,” he whispered. “That motherfucker.”

She couldn’t meet his gaze. Instead, she kept her eyes on the collar around his neck. “They don’t hurt as much as they did the other day.” Then again, she suspected her exhaustion had masked a lot of her pain.

Sully walked in while adjusting the camera and pulled up short when he saw her bruises. It shouldn’t have shocked him, considering what he’d seen as a cop, but it did.

A surge of rage welled inside him. The asshole that did this to her would not get away with it. It pissed him off that any man would do this to a woman.

It brought back his own nightmares.

She lifted her gaze to him, briefly, then her focus skittered away again. He took a deep breath to steady his voice.

“Let’s start with your back. Sit on the bed and you can let the towel fall open, okay?”

She nodded. Mac stepped back, holding her robe ready to put on her as soon as they finished.

Bless Mac’s heart. Sully could easily see where this would lead Mac if she spent any length of time with them. Wanting to prevent the past from repeating itself.

Sully took the pictures, fighting through his own anger as he saw the bruising on her back. The digital readout on the camera confirmed the shots. He would save a backup of each picture while still committing them to film. He did each arm, then her legs. He focused on her sweet blue eyes through the viewfinder.

Her crippling fear bubbled just below the surface, he suspected.

Then came time to photograph her torso.

“Where did he bruise you? Maybe we can keep you covered and not expose anything.”

Her face reddened. “Everywhere.”

He knelt in front of her. “If you don’t want me to—”

“It’s okay.” She took a deep breath. “If it’ll help later, help nail him.”

“I’ll make it fast. I promise.”

“Okay.”

“Let me focus first, before you drop the towel.” He prepared as best he could, then told her to move the towel. Shooting quickly, he fought back the bile in his throat. From the dark purple of some of the bruises over her breasts, he suspected they’d been nearly black when fresher. “Okay, that’s it.”

She wrapped the towel around herself while Mac swooped in to drape the robe over her. Sully spotted the tears in Mac’s eyes.

So did Clarisse, apparently.

That finished her. She broke down crying again. This time Mac consoled her. When she composed herself, Sully tried to offer her a comforting smile, although he suspected his anger had given him a harsh look.

“Go take a nice hot bath, take as long as you want. Do you want any Tylenol or anything? We’ve got hot tea.”

She nodded. “That’d be great. Thank you.”

Mac jumped up and raced to get them, leaving Sully alone with her. He knelt in front of her again. “Take your time. We can visit until eight tonight. We’ll see if we can eat dinner with him.”

“Okay.”

He left her alone.

Clarisse sat there for a moment before willing her legs to stand.

She figured why close the bedroom door? They were gay, what difference did it make?

Maybe she could trust Sully one day. Not right now. Not this soon. She sensed he wasn’t an ax murderer. Still, it made her uncomfortable baring her soul to him.

Mac was a different story. She trusted him, instinctively sensed he would die before he let anyone hurt her. Considering the men were all she had, she was willing to trust that much.

She’d crawled into the tub, comfortably immersed in the water, when Mac knocked on the bathroom door.

“I have your Tylenol and your hot tea.”

“It’s okay. Just bring them in.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

He opened the door and cautiously stuck his head in. “I didn’t know if you wanted sugar in your tea, so I brought some.” He walked in and set everything on the counter. He handed her two capsules and a cold bottle of water. When she downed the medicine, he took the bottle back and handed her the tea. “Sugar?”

“No, that’s okay.” He sat on the edge of the huge tub after he handed her the mug. She didn’t bother trying to cover herself or sink lower in the water. It was too exhausting, and, frankly, she didn’t want to expend the effort and feel her muscles scream.

He looked like he wanted to say something but caught himself.

“What is it?”

“Can we take you to the doctor? We’ll pay for it.”

She blushed and shook her head. “I let them look me over at the ER before I checked myself out. They x-rayed my ribs, said I wouldn’t die. It would have been stupid to waste time sitting in a hospital when I could have been moving.”

“Aren’t you hurting?”

She laughed, setting off pain in her ribs. “Yeah, worse than I ever have in my life. I’ve got a high pain tolerance, though. It’s okay. I once smashed my hand in the rigging. When Uncle Tad wanted to turn around and head to dock, I wouldn’t let him. I just stuck it in ice for a few hours and kept sorting. My mom was pissed, but my dad was proud of me.” She studied her left hand as she flexed it.

A light scar traced across her palm. “Did that when I landed a lemon shark one night. Took ten stitches to close it when we got back, but I used butterfly bandages on it and didn’t let Uncle Tad see how bad the shark got me.”

Mac gently caught her hand in his, kissed it, and gently traced his fingers over the scar. “How long has he been hitting you?”

She didn’t pull her hand away. “Verbally? From day one.

Physically, this is only the second time he laid his hands on me. And the last.”

“You won’t let me take you to the doctor?”

“No, but thank you. I appreciate it.”

Mac released her hand and stood. “You’re not going to go back to him, are you?”

“Hell, no.” She sighed. “I need to get Bart, though.”

“Bart?”

“My dog. My friend Raquel is taking care of him for me.” A horrible thought hit her. “He’s little and he’s crate trained. Will Sully let me bring him back?” Then she did start to cry. “He’s my baby.

He’s the only reason I stayed sane. Bryan let me get him after the first time he hit me. I think he used him as a peace offering. He’s a really good dog.”

“Yeah. I’ll take care of it, honey. Don’t worry.” He started for the bathroom door. “Take as long as you need. Don’t rush.” He pulled the bathroom door partially shut behind him.

Clarisse sipped the tea and closed her eyes. She was safe and relatively secure here. She wouldn’t even try to say she was sane at this point, because she still felt like an alien in her own body. Partly due to the exhaustion and stress and pain, partly due to fear.

She set the mug on the edge of the tub and slowly sank deeper into the water.

After their showers, Sully and Mac waited for Clarisse to emerge from her bedroom. Mac heated her some soup and fixed her another mug of hot tea. She sat at the counter, not looking at the men, her damp hair tucked behind her ears. It made the bruises look worse.

“Do you have any makeup?” Sully asked.

She shook her head. “He wouldn’t let me spend money on it even if I did wear it, which I usually didn’t.” She blushed. “I had some cheap powder and lipstick, but I didn’t bring it. I didn’t want to waste the space in my purse when I left. It wouldn’t have done any good on this anyway.”

Mac and Sully had changed into pullover shirts and jeans. Mac no longer wore his collar. In its place lay a heavy silver necklace. Sully reached into his back pocket, pulled out his wallet, and handed Mac a credit card.

“Run to Walgreens. They’ve got a makeup counter. Tell the clerk your little sister has a pale complexion and she needs some basics.

Get good stuff. Spend whatever you have to. Make sure to get a heavy concealer too. Tell her she’s got a burn scar or something that needs hiding.”

Clarisse started to protest. Sully overruled her. “If Tad sees you looking like this, he’ll be really upset. I’d rather not spring that on him. Hopefully he’ll be too happy to see you to realize how badly you’re hurt.” He looked at Mac. “Waterproof mascara.”

Mac nodded, grabbed his keys, and disappeared out the door before she could object again.

Clarisse stiffened in fear. She intellectually knew Sully wouldn’t hurt her. Emotionally, she didn’t want to be without Mac’s comforting, safe presence.