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eyes widen in fear as she realized what she’d done.
    “Brianna,” I said in a voice that brooked no argument. “You will sleep in the bed, not on the floor.”
    I didn’t think her eyes could get any bigger, but they did. Then she got up and climbed onto the bed, lying flat on her back, her arms down at her sides.
    Her face was set, waiting for something.
    I studied her for a minute before it dawned on me what she was waiting for; she thought I wanted sex.
    We would get to that, but not tonight, and not with her like this. Opening the dresser drawer, I pulled out a bottle of salve.
    Her breathing picked up as I sat on the bed beside her, a telltale sign of her nervousness. Brianna’s eyes were closed now. She was mentally preparing herself for whatever I was going to do to her.
    I lifted her skirt, once again revealing her bruises. They looked worse in the bright artificial light of this room, and I felt the pizza I’d just eaten threaten to come back up. Without waiting any more, I placed some of the salve on my fingers and began massaging it into her thighs.
    When I finished and put her skirt back in place, she was looking at me. Then, realizing her mistake, she quickly looked away. I stood and put the bottle back in the drawer.
    “You don’t have to fear me, Brianna. Goodnight.”
    Turning off the light, I left her alone and went back out to the kitchen to clean up before heading to my own bedroom. Stripping down to my boxers, I fell into bed. The emotional strain of the day quickly pulled me into a deep sleep. And my last thoughts were of a fragile woman with brown hair and blue eyes.

Stephan
    A piercing scream tore me from sleep. Throwing the covers off, I ran to Brianna’s room to find her huddled against the headboard of her bed, looking wild with fright. Her hands were twisted in her hair, tangling it. At first she didn’t seem to notice me in the dim light from the window, but when she did, she closed her eyes, tilted her head down, and began to shake.
    Slowly, I walked toward her. I didn’t want to frighten her more, but I felt I needed to do something. Brianna was my responsibility. She was in a strange place, alone. Although I was a stranger, I was all she had at the moment.
    By the time I reached the end of her bed, she was moving. I hesitated. She nearly tripped over herself as she scrambled to the floor to kneel in front of me.
    Her name was on the tip of my tongue when she started jerking. I bent down, concerned that she was having another episode, and reached out to grasp her by the shoulders. Her eyes were closed tight, and she looked like she was in pain. Scooping her up, I carried her to her bathroom and set her down by the toilet. I lifted the toilet seat and pulled her hair back. She bent over and let loose, but nothing came out. Her stomach was empty. All she had were dry heaves.
    Once she calmed, I got two washcloths from the rack. After running them under cold water, I took them to Brianna. She hadn’t moved, not that I’d really expected her to. Her body was unnaturally still, her eyes cast to the floor as I washed her face.
    When I was finished I tossed the dirty cloth into the sink and turned back to her. Again, she looked like she was about ready to cry.
    I carried her back to her bed.
    Placing her on the rumpled covers, I brushed her hair back and placed the fresh washcloth on her forehead. Her eyes flicked to my face, then closed as she tensed.
    She acted as if she was waiting for me to molest her. The fact that she thought I’d do so when she was obviously unwell made me wonder just what horrors she’d undergone while living with Ian Pierce.
    Without another word, I stepped away and settled into the chair in the corner of the room. I’d used the chair for various reasons in the past, but a bed had never been one of them before tonight.
    As I leaned back, trying to get comfortable, I watched her still form on the bed, letting myself study her. Her delicate features were