Page 52 of Unhinged

She let out a harsh exhalation and he brushed a kiss over her temple to temper the command. She snuggled closer before continuing. “He said his friends had played a joke on him and left him behind, so I offered to take him home.”

She touched her fingers to her lips. “He had a facial deformity—a cleft lip. I felt bad for him, you know?”

Yeah, he could understand that completely. The guy had probably used it to his advantage to prey on Hannah and her friend.

“He said his name was Tommy, but…” She took a deep breath. “I’m sure he lied about that, too. Selah complained the whole time about what a terrible idea it was. He said he lived just outside town, and it felt like we’d driven forever until we finally turned down this long, dark road. I had a bad feeling, so I stopped the car and told him I couldn’t take him any farther.

“I should have known; I should have seen it coming.” Another deep breath. “He pulled a knife from out of nowhere and held it to my throat then made Selah tie me to the steering wheel. I knew we wouldn’t make it out of there, and I screamed at Selah to run, to save herself.

“He left me in the car and took off after her into the woods. I sat there for probably close to an hour, praying to God that she’d managed to get away. When he finally came back, he cut me loose and forced me into the woods, too.”

His hand automatically clenched into a fist. He couldn’t imagine what she’d experienced, the sheer terror she’d felt. And she’d been—what?—all of seventeen at the time? She was just a kid trying to do the right thing and help someone out. He forced himself to relax, splaying his fingers once more over the soft skin of her stomach. If his touch was firmer, more possessive, she didn’t complain.

Hannah spoke again, her voice breaking. “I… I couldn’t see where I was going, and I tripped. He turned on the flashlight and…”

Her voice turned to a whisper. “I didn’t even recognize her at first. There was so much blood. I think I screamed, but I don’t remember, I just ran as fast as I could. I didn’t know where I was going, I just knew I had to get away.”

He closed his eyes and swallowed, simultaneously wanting her to stop talking yet get it off her chest.

“I ran and ran until I came to an old train trestle. He’d caught up with me by that point and he grabbed my hair, cornered me. I was pressed up against the railing, begging for him to stop, to let me go. He said, ‘I’m sorry it has to be this way.’”

Her motions were illuminated by the pale light filtering through the gauzy curtains covering the window, and she raised a hand to her neck. “He had the knife to my throat and I knew I had to do something. I kneed him, and the next thing I knew, I was falling. I’d never been so scared in my life, and I knew right then that I was going to die.”

The anger he felt on her behalf was almost overwhelming. He wanted to track down the guy responsible and rip him limb from limb. His voice came out rough. “How did you get away?”

“I happened to fall near the middle of the bridge where there was a support pillar. It had stormed the day before, and a bunch of tree limbs and debris had gotten caught there. I landed near them, and somehow, they kept me afloat. I laid there, listening to him walk back and forth over the bridge, talking to himself for probably half an hour. I stayed as still as I could, moving my head just enough to keep it out of the water so I could breathe.”

She shuddered. “Finally, he left. I don’t know how long I waited after that. It seemed like hours. I swore he’d come back for me, but he never did. He must have figured I was dead. I climbed out of the river and followed the train tracks—looking for a house, a road, anyone who could help. I saw headlights just as I was coming up to a road and I ran like a crazy person, waving my arms around, trying to get them to stop.”

She let out a self-deprecating laugh. “I must’ve scared the poor woman half to death. I was wet and covered with mud, my clothes torn. I refused to get in the car with her, and I just stood there crying hysterically, begging her to call the police. Thank God she had a cell phone. She was nice enough to wait with me until the cops came. I told them what happened, where Selah was…”

He laced their fingers together, then pressed a kiss to the spot where their hands were joined. “Oh, baby. I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

She squeezed his hand in return. “I wonder all the time why God chose me. I shouldn’t have lived that day, but somehow I did.”

He gently rolled her to her back and stared down at her. “He knew you’d do great things, Doc. You’re a survivor; not many people can say that. Better yet, you use your experience to help others. He chose you because you’re an incredible, amazing person.”

Tears slipped down her temples, dampening her hair, and he brushed them away. “Seriously—you know it wasn’t your fault, right? Not what happened to you back then, and certainly not what happened to Rachel.”

“I know.” Eyes downcast, her reticent tone was a direct contradiction to the words she spoke.

He released her hand and pushed to a sitting position, then scooped her into his lap. He held her close, just as he had a week ago, reflecting on how much had changed in just a few short days. She had stirred something within him, something he never knew was missing. “Thank you for telling me. It means a lot that you trusted me with that.”

She leaned her head into his chest, cuddling closer. “It was hard to have normal relationships after that. I tried dating in college, of course, but I wasn’t ready to let anyone in until…”

Her words trailed off and hope bloomed in his chest. “Until?”

She sighed. “When I walked into the health center that day and saw you... It sounds weird to say, but I felt something before I even met you. Lust, maybe? I can’t explain it, but I immediately thought… ‘He would never want to be with someone like me.’”

He tipped her face up to see her better. “Why would you think that? You’re beautiful.”

One shoulder rose and fell. “You stood there in your suit, looking like you just walked off a billboard and gave me this little smirk. I thought you were making fun of me.”

He opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off. “I know how I looked, Luke. I hid under those baggy clothes, trying to hide my figure. When I saw you, I instantly got defensive. It was easier to pretend I hated you than to feel that little spark of... whatever it was.”

He understood that, even though it wasn’t true. “You’re perfect, sweetheart, no matter what you wear or how you look. But since you mentioned it, I’m curious... What brought on the change?”

He held his breath, almost afraid to hear the answer, and he couldn’t help but grin when it finally came.