I pulled her underwear off first, moving them over her wide hips, then down, not letting myself linger.

Did the same with her bra, and then pointed at the now-full tub.

“Get in,” I said.

She again followed my directions, which wasn’t a surprise, but was still something I didn’t like.

Which was fucked up.

I’d spent years trying to get Kayla’s compliance.

Had fought for it.

But this wasn’t Kayla.

I undressed quickly and noticed an expression on her face I couldn’t quite interpret.

“What is it?” I said as I grabbed a thick washcloth and then slid into the tub behind her.

The water was perfect, not too hot, not too cold, and sitting there with Kayla was the first hint of relief I’d felt all day.

“I guess you’re going to have to throw your pants away too,” she said. “They’re covered in blood.”

There was no judgement in those words, but I still felt the significance of her saying them.

Yet another problem to add to the list.

Another thing I wouldn’t be addressing today.

“I’ll burn them,” I responded, “and I’ll add yours to the pile. Don’t want you trying to fish them out and put them back together.”

“I don’t know if I have the energy for that kind of endeavor. At least not today,” she said.

Like always, I was hard when she was this close to me, but I ignored that and focused on her.

“I’ll get you some ice for your face,” I whispered, the sound at odds with the anger I felt.

The bruises were faint, though I knew they would get worse soon.

The thought of someone touching Kayla that way, harming her, had my vision narrowing with rage.

“Know that had anyone else on this planet done that to you, they would be dead,” I whispered.

“It’s fine,” she responded, again sounding resigned. “A couple of bruises is nothing compared to what you did to those guys.”

“Men who knew what they were signing up for,” I said.

“Just as I did,” she responded, the matter of factness in her voice in no way convincing.

She sank back against me deeper, burrowing into my arms.

On instinct I tightened, held her close.

“I don’t want to talk,” she said.

“Then we won’t talk,” I responded.

She smiled, the expression fleeting.

Beautiful.

Then she kept her eyes closed as I washed every inch of her body.

I wanted no speck of that place to remain with her.

As I had washed her, her breathing had increased, and by the time I tossed the cloth away and reached between her thighs, it wasn’t the bath that had her soaking.

She was slippery wet, no doubt the roller coaster of emotions she had been through today still with her.