“What is?”Gia asked, dread filling her stomach as she felt Raymond tighten his hold on her as he lowered his face to hers, pressing a hard kiss to her lips and biting down before moving his face down to her neck.
Raymond licked a stripe from Gia’s collarbone to the bottom of her jaw before speaking again. “That tonight was your final task for Leander.” He dropped his arm to grab at her skirt, pulling it up so that it was above her knees. Gia tensed, locking her legs together as she desperately wished that Leander had allowed his girls to wear a crinoline to protect them from any undue touch.
When Raymond’s hand began to wander further, Gia tried to pull away, but found herself unable to as he dug his yellow nails into the soft flesh of her bicep. Her heart began to race as Raymond backed Gia up against a tree, her skirt now hiked up around the bottom of her corset. “Final task?”
The black haired man nodded as he undid his belt and unzipped his dusty trousers. “Yes, darling. Or did he not tell you?” He kissed her again, his slimy tongue darting out to demand entrance between Gia’s lips.
“Tell me what?” Gia managed to ask in between invasions as Raymond raised Gia’s leg to wrap around his left hip. She bit back tears as she felt Raymond thrust in to her, the angle causing her to tear. The bark of the tree dug into her shoulders and the back of her leg, rubbing the skin raw as Raymond’s nails destroyed the front.
“Your precious little beau has finally saved up enough money to buy you away. Leander refused to take the money. Said that you were the one girl that he could not sell into marriage,” Raymond gasped out between grunts, biting down on Gia’s collar bone and sucking harshly, shattering the capillaries and making her skin ache and burn. “Do you know what your beau said to that?” Gia shook her head. Raymond moved back up and licked at her lips, groaning as he sped up his thrusts.“Mr. Boyd said that he would report Leander, that he knew ways that would keep himself in a positive light even though he was sleeping with the worst hedge whore of them all!” Raymond dug his nails into the back of Gia’s thigh as he moaned loudly. Gia winced at the sound, knowing what was coming quickly. Sure enough, she felt Raymond finish a moment later. She grimaced as he slid out and forced her leg back down to the ground, her lower body screaming in protest from the way she held it up.
Raymond let out a nefarious, yet blissful, grin as he looked at his conquest. “Leander’s heart would surely break if he knew that another man had you as a wife, as property We can’t have that, now can we?” Gia said nothing, looking away. Raymond let out an angry sound, gripping the brunette’s chin between his thumb and forefinger tightly. “You will answer me when I speak to you, trollop.”
Gia bit back tears. “No, we do not want that, sir,” she said quietly. Raymond nodded before releasing Gia’s face from his grasp.
“Do you know what we must do about this situation then?” Gia shook her head, fear filling her gut. “Leander mentioned that if he cannot have you forever, then no one can.” Raymond pulled her tighter, whispering in her ear, “Looks like it’s time to die, pretty girl.”
Gia let out a terrified gasp as Raymond laughed and pulled out his knife. He dangled the blade in Gia’s face. “What a shame it is, too,” he commented, leaning forward and biting at her ear again. “What a nice bite you have. It is a shame that Leander never got to experience it as fully as he desired.” He gave a nonchalant humph before looking down at the knife and shrugging. “Oh, well.”
Gia’s breath caught as a spearing pain launched through her side as Raymond thrust the blade through the boning of the corset and in between her ribs, the serrated ridges slipping between her intercostals and shredding them as the blade was ripped back out. Gia’s hand flew to her side as she crumpled to the ground, Raymond stepping back to wipe the blood off against his handkerchief. He looked back at the whimpering girl, taking a moment to dig his boot into the tender hole in her side. He spat at her before kicking her again. “Have fun in hell, bitch,” he murmured as he laughed, his eyes flashing at Gia glanced up at him before he hopped back on his horse and rode away.
Gia let out a strangled cry as the sound of hooves against the dirt dissipated until Gia was left alone in silence, her side throbbing. She pressed her hand against the wound harder as she struggled to sit up against the tree, the cuts on the back of her legs beginning to sting as they filled with dirt and the dust that had blown up her skirt during Raymond’s attack of her. Tears began to stream down her face as she breathed in gasps around the pain, which was steadily growing more and more intense as the adrenaline wore off and her body began to slip into shock.
The brunette glanced down to see her red and blue dress had turned purple as the blood began to seep through the boning into the blue sides. She pressed her hand tight against the spot before pulling it back to see the danger that she was in. She felt herself grow woozy as she looked at the dark red that coated her fingers, making them shiny and bright in color. The dizziness began worse until Gia’s head began to spin, the loss of blood finally getting to her as she fell unconscious.
4
Gia opened her eyes to the sun-streaked room, groaning in pain when the light met her pupils. She rubbed her eyes, pressing hard against them in hopes of relieving some of the pressure building up behind the lids. It was to no avail, and she began to feel worse the harder that she pressed. Nausea bubbled in her stomach, and her surroundings began to spin once she finally found the courage to peel open her eyes and try to see where exactly it was that she was lying.
Gia groaned again as the light proved to be too much, making her head pulse with every beat of her heart, each shuddering breath she took causing her to feel like her brain was being slammed against her skull. She rolled onto her side and curled into the fetal position, drawing her knees as close as she could to her chest. As she pulled her legs in, Gia realized that she was on a bed. Whose bed, she did not know, but she could tell by the mattress that this bed belonged to someone who was neither poor nor wealthy, as the bed did not feel as though it was made of either hay or feather. However, compared to the thin mat that Gia was used to, this mattress could have been made of clouds, and Gia would not have known the difference.
Gia tried a final time to open her eyes, desperate now to see if her surroundings were that of a safe place or not. The last thing she remembered was Raymond stabbing her in the side... could he have taken her? Was she trapped somewhere? Was Raymond, or someone worse, going to come back and destroy her again? She shot up, letting out a small scream when a shooting pain in her side made her feel as though she was being ripped in two. Her hand went to the spot of the pain, lifting up her clothes carefully, noticing that she was only in a thin nightgown and a pair of pantalets, neither of which belonged to her. They were far too white and new-looking to be hers. Beneath the cloth of her gown was a thick white bit of cloth, wrapped all the way around her midsection and tied in a knot above her left hip, approximately two centimeters below where Raymond stabbed her.
She began to undo the knot, barely touching the fabric before she found herself twisting over the edge of the bed. She began to vomit as memories swirled in her head, the realization of what she had done sinking in. I am leading that child to her death, if Leander doesn’t like her, Gia realized, wishing that she had gotten hit in the head instead. She pictured the breaking rituals and Simona, her head filling itself with images of the things that would be happening to the child.
Gia’s sickness splashed on the floor, spreading out against the wood in a slippery mess. Her hair fell around her face and towards the ground, the tips nearly brushing the offending liquid as she shook, her body heaving against the edge of the mattress. In a moment of peace, Gia hurriedly grabbed at her hair before it touched anything, spinning it in one hand and tossing it over her shoulder before she continued to get sick.
The brunette jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder. “Shh, shh, it’s alright,” a man’s voice said, “just let it all out. I knew I should have waited a while longer before
trying solid food on you again. I’m sorry.”
Gia tried to tense away from the man, but found herself unable to do more than shift to her right side as she began to dry heave, her abdominals tight and sore, her throat feeling as though it had been lit on fire. After a few more minutes, she moved away as quickly as she could away from the man’s strong hand. She looked up at him when he squeezed his hand, her eyes growing wide with fear. The man kept his a tight grip on her shoulder when Gia tried to pull back, holding her in place. “Hey, it is okay. I’m taking care of you, remember? You are safe here,” the man assured her, his light green eyes widening as she tried to move even further away. He thrust his other hand out to keep her from pulling away as she let out a cry of pain. He sighed. “Miss, you need to be gentle on that side. It still has not healed properly.”
“W-who are you?” Gia stuttered, shrinking away as the man tried to push her hair away from her face as it grew damp with sweat from the force of her heaving. “W-where am I?”
“Relax,” he urged. “You’re a mile outside of London. This is the first time you’ve been coherent enough to realize I was there when you were awake, so I understand why you are nervous. You must be gentle, though. You do not want to overexert yourself and make yourself ill once again.”He moved up off the bed, and walked out of the room, his long sandy hair swishing from beneath a dark blue ribbon. Gia took this opportunity to glance around the room, blinking her eyes frequently as she pressed two fingers against the side of her head as it continued to throb.
The room was mostly bare, for the only furniture in the room was the bed, an end table and a chair at the side of the bed, and a table against the wall that held a stack of folded cloths. They are likely for my side, Gia realized, taking note of the similar appearances of the fabrics. There was also a fire place in the far corner of the room, the flames just barely lit enough to keep the room warm. She looked up as the man came back in, a chrome pitcher in his hand. He set it on the table before walking back out of the room and retrieving a cup. He filled it with water and handed it to Gia.
“Drink up. I do not want you to get dehydrated on me. It will make your head spin.” Realizing that’s likely why her head hurt upon waking, Gia quickly drained the cup of liquid. Her eyes widened as thirst hit her in full, and she held the cup out for more. The man smiled at her before setting the pitcher down on the bedside table. “Help yourself to as much as you want. I can always get more from the well out back.” He gestured to his right, out a window. “That’s one thing we do not have to worry about me running out of.” He sat down in a chair next to the bed.
Once Gia had quenched her thirst, she put the cup on the table, feeling worn out once again. She learned back against the pillows. The water had eased her headache, and it seemed as though it was nearly gone. She asked again, “Who are you?”
The man shook his head. “Oh, how rude of me! I forgot that you are not a native of this town.” He bowed from his seated position, smiling up at Gia from under his lashes. “My name is Solomon Drake, miss. I am the doctor here in town. It’s why you’re in my home, instead of with the man who found you when you were injured.” He straightened back up. “And what is your name, madam?”
Gia smiled nervously at Solomon. “My name is Georgiana Fletcher, sir, but you can call me Gia.” She paused a moment before speaking again. “What do you mean, the man who ‘found’ me?”
Solomon grimaced at the memory of what Gia looked like when she came in. “The man’s name is Oscar Meddleton, and he is a farmer who lives a half mile to the north of my home. He lives next to the woods, and was taking a stroll with his youngest child and their horse to look for some sort of berry that the little one had read grows in winter. Oscar said he heard a struggle a bit off the path, and decided to investigate once it quieted down and he had sent his son back home. He found you on the ground, bleeding out from your side. You are lucky he had his horse with him, or else he would not have been able to get you here in time.” He shook his head. “You were in bad shape. I was not sure that you would make it through the night, let alone all this time.”
Solomon stood, going over to the cloth on the table. “I am happy that you are finally able to understand me now, however. You developed an infection and a high fever soon after arriving, and you have been delirious for several weeks.” He returned to the bedside and lifted Gia’s nightgown gently, removing the bandage and cleaning the wound. He clicked his tongue. “This should have been healed by now. It is much better than it was when you got here, but all the movement you did in your sleep reopened the wound at least two or three times per day.” He leaned closer to examine it. Gia winced when he ran his thumb over the wound. He clicked his tongue again before leaving the room, returning a few moments later with a leather satchel.
Solomon pulled out a thin needle and a roll of silk thread before sitting back down, leaning in and pressing gently at the skin. He narrowed his brows when his fingers came back red. “It looked like vomiting split the suture once again.” He looked back up at Gia after threading the needle apologetically. “This is going to hurt, but the wound is small enough that it should only take three or four stitches to hold it shut.”
Gia held her breath as Solomon closed the wound, the drag of the thread against the interior of her skin bringing tears to her eyes. True to Solomon’s word, though, it was a quick job, and lasted less than a minute from start to finish before Solomon was redressing the wound with a fresh scrap of fabric. “There. All better. Now, Miss Fletcher, you must remain as still as you possibly can over the next few days to allow the sutures to set. Given you do that, you shall be right as rain before the week is out.”
Gia watched Solomon work, letting the words sink in. She nodded her affirmation. “How long have I been here, then?” She began to take another sip of water as Solomon walked back over to table and washed his hands in the basin there before returning back to the chair next to the bed. He sat down, leaning forward so that his elbows were placed on the edge of the bed, his forearms crossing over one another.
Solomon began to think, counting the time out on his fingers, “Well, you arrived here around December 18th, so you have been here for just over three months.”
Gia spat her water out onto the bed in shock. Solomon grimaced when some landed on his hand. He sat back in the chair, wiping his hand on his handkerchief before straightening his cravat and clearing his throat while Gia exclaimed, “Three months?”
Solomon nodded, still leaning back. Gia looked at him apologetically. “Yes, ma’am.”
The confirmation caused Gia to begin to tremble lightly. Her first three months of freedom, and she had missed it! Granted, she thought, had this man not taken care of me, I would be dead. My only earthly freedom would be that my body could be tossed wherever the city pleased, provided that my corpse was not eating by some sort of animal first. She shook her head, trying to think positively. She had to know, though, what the man believed happened to her. So far, it did not appear that the man had realized that she was partly responsible for Simona Dickens, or any of the other girls her sisters had reported, being kidnapped. Then again, there was always the chance that Isaiah and his men were caught before they made their way out of town. “W-what happened t-to me?”
Solomon looked down, his shoulders beginning to hunch. “There were many tragedies in this town the eve you took ill. We lost ten of our own that night. Two brought back to us, two still missing, six deceased. It would have been seven, had Oscar not found you when he did.” Solomon shook his head before looking back up at Gia. “I believe, Miss Fletcher, that you were caught in the crossfire. There was a man, or more likely a group of men, that made his way through the town that night and kidnapped several young women, all around the ages of twelve to fourteen. Six girls were taken.”
Gia thought back to the beginning of Solomon’s statement, keeping counts of the numbers in her mind. “If only six girls were taken, who were the deaths? Were all the girls killed?” She began to
feel sick to her stomach.
Solomon shook his head. “Out of the girls, there are only two whose deaths have been confirmed. The other four were men in the town. No one saw these men die but, because their bodies were found in the same woods as yours was, I assume that they were trying to stop the kidnapper from taking the girls, and were murdered in the process.” He sighed. “The girls… they were badly mutilated, and were sent back as a warning of what would happen if we sent authorities out to search the surrounding towns and woods for other four.”
Gia looked at Solomon in genuine confusion. “Why a warning? Could it not be that the girls had been killed for a different reason?”
“That is possible,” Solomon admitted, “but the families of the remaining two girls are not willing to risk it. There are some smaller search parties still going out but, after all this time, the only ones who continuing to look would be the girls’ fathers and brothers.”
Gia nodded. She could only imagine what the men would do to the girls that fought back or tried to run. Leander was cruel, but those men seemed even more terrifying than her dark-haired father could ever be. “What about the two girls that were released?”
“Ah, yes, Misses Lacey and Nettie Summers. They were not released so much as left behind.” Solomon stood and went to the window, moving the dark blue curtain and looking behind it towards the town. After a moment he replaced the fabric before returning back to his spot by the bed. “The girls were rather shaken, but managed to find their way back to town after a while.”
“What happened, though? Did the kidnapper simply decide that Miss Lacy and Miss Nettie were unnecessary?”
Saving Simona (Alone In The World Trilogy) Page 5
