Chapter 11: Mental breakdown

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~CLAIRE~

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Christian's face remained twisted furiously as he took me back to his suite. He didn't say a word, and I was glad he didn't.

A few security men hurried towards him, explaining to him that they needed me to make a statement about what happened.

But when they saw the rage in his eyes, they apologized and backed away.

When he stepped into the suite, he shut the door and carried me into the adjoining room. The shock of everything finally got to me and I started to tremble.

My whole body shook violently, and even Christian grew worried.

He lowered me to the bed and started to rise, but my arms tightened around his neck.

"Please." I whispered. "Don't go. I don't want to be alone."

"I'm not leaving you." He murmured. "I promise, I won't leave you. I just need to tend to your wounds."

He gently pried my arms away from his neck and straightened. He left the room for a moment, and I curled into a ball, shivering.

My back was starting to really hurt, and when I ran my palm over my lower back, I winced. Tiny glass pieces were embedded deeply into my skin.

Christian returned to the room, holding a medical kit.

He lowered to the bed beside me and took my hands. Then he noticed I was crying again. "What is it, Claire? What's wrong?"

He pushed the strands of hair away from my face and gently cupped my face. "Are you in pain?"

"My back." I whimpered. "I think it's really bad."

His gaze moved over to his tux still draped over my back.

"Can I see?" He asked softly.

I nodded. Shielding my breasts with my hands, I turned the other way. He peeled the jacket off my back and went quiet.

"It's not so bad." He said after a while. “Just a few. It won't hurt, okay?”

I felt his warm hands rest on my hip and I nodded.

As he took out the glass shards, I kept my eyes tightly closed, gritting my teeth hard against the pain.

Christian murmured to me, whispering soothing words as he picked out the glass one by one.

After what felt like hours, he finally pulled out the last one.

"That's all." He whispered, rubbing my hip gently.

I breathed a sigh of relief, but it wasn't over yet. I perceived the sharp smell of antiseptic and I knew what was coming.

I felt Christian hesitate for a moment. "Claire..." He began, but I stopped him.

"I know it will hurt. Just do it."

He took my hand and held it. "Squeeze as hard as you can, okay?"

I nodded. When I felt the first sting as Christian rubbed the soaked wool over my back, I gripped his hand tightly, almost crushing his fingers.

He was quick, wiping off the blood as gently as he could.

I was so glad when he finished. My trembling intensified as he packed up the medical kit and pushed it away.

He disappeared into the bathroom and I heard the rush of water as he ran me a bath. When he returned, his shirt was gone.

I didn't shy away as he pulled off my gown. There was no reason to be, not when we made love already.

He carried me to the bathroom and lowered me into the tub. Then he left, giving me the privacy I needed.

I took a long time in the bathroom, crying softly. I was completely traumatized, and my emotions were raw. I couldn't block out the sick feeling of Jason's hand touching me. I felt sick.

When I finally managed to take a bath, I changed into the clean clothes Christian left for me. I looked into the mirror, taking in my expression. I looked like hell.

Christian was waiting for me in the bedroom when I stepped out. He took my hand and led me to the bed.

I slipped in, curling into a ball as he drew the covers up. I didn't say a word, and neither did he. He remained beside the bed for a moment, staring at me. The blood on his knuckles were gone.

After a while, he got up. My heartbeat accelerated as I watched him walk away. He stopped by the door and turned off the light, then walked out.

The moment the room was plunged into darkness, I felt my throat close up. A heavy weight settled on my chest and I began to hyperventilate. I couldn't breathe. I was choking.

I grabbed the bedsheets, willing myself to breathe, but I couldn't. I started to suffocate.

Christian must have heard my heavy breathing because he came rushing into the room again. He turned on the lights and saw me having a breakdown on the bed.

"Claire!" He called my name as he hurried towards me. He grabbed my shoulders, shaking me gently. "Claire, breathe. Come on, I need you to breathe."

His voice floated into my ears and I heaved. Air rushed through my nose into my lungs and the weight on my chest disappeared. I held his hand tightly, breathing deeply, in and out.

My eyes were terrified as I looked up at him. The look he gave me was so soft, so gentle, and I couldn't stop the tears that spilled down my cheeks.

"Do you want me to stay with you?" He asked softly.

And the dam broke. I burst into tears, bawling my eyes out. I felt burdened, and the more I thought about what Jason almost did to me, the more my tears flowed.

Christian immediately got into bed with me. He pulled the covers up, pulled me into his arms and held me close. He didn't say a word. He didn't need to. All I needed was his comfort, and he gave me that.

My tears gradually stopped as he held me, and I was reminded of my dad. This was how he used to hold me when I was little. He would rock me in his arms until I fell asleep, comforted by the smell of tobacco on him.

The memory brought a warm feeling to my heart.

Cradled in Christian's arms, I fell into a deep sleep.