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.”