Day 6

They pulled into The Rose and Globe's parking lot just after 10am. Irina rummaged through the glove compartment for some concealer then applied it to the cuts and bruises on her face. She popped the trunk and found a sweatshirt for Jack to slip on over his ripped and bloodied fatigues.

They tried to avoid Mrs. O'Shaunassy as the entered the inn. But sure enough, she accosted them as they stepped through the door.

"I've been worried about the two of you!" She took in their appearance, "Dear Lord! What in the name of Heaven happened to you?"

"We went hiking, and it went a little wrong," Irina lied easily. "We've been at the hospital. Liam needed some medcial attention."

"You both look like you could use a good meal. Can I get you somethin'?"

"Actually," Irina looked at Jack; "I think we're both pretty exhausted. We'll just be heading up to our room to rest. We should be down for dinner, though."

"Well, alright then."

Once in their suite, Jack headed to the bedroom and collapsed on the bed.

"Wait, Jack. You've got to let me bandage you up."

"Leave me alone, I'm fine."

"You just keep telling yourself that and maybe by sheer force of will you can make it the truth," she said as she tugged on the hem of his sweatshirt.

He didn't protest any further as she stripped him down to his boxers. She gasped as she took in the damaged inflicted upon him. His ribs were mottled blue, purple, and black; the bruise wrapped around his right side to his kidney and extended upward to the lung. There were abrasions on both shoulders and another large bruise on his chest, just above his heart.

"God, Jack. What the hell did they do to you? And why didn't you tell me?"

"What difference would it have made?"

"What difference? I wouldn't have let you take on those guards, let alone Cuveé!"

"And we would still be back in that cell. Besides there's not a whole hell of a lot you could have done about it. It's all just bruises, nothing internal that I can tell. Now, would you mind stitching me up?"

"Only if you agree to tell me what they did to you. Your injuries may be more severe than you think!"

"Fine, but after you close up the cut on my arm."

Irina dug through her suitcase, looking for the special first aid kit she'd packed. This one contained painkillers, syringes, and other various medical instruments, as well as the things one might normally expect. She pulled out nylon thread and a needle, then proceeded to wash, stitch, and bandage the gash on his forearm.

Throughout all of this, Jack never moved, never made a sound. Irina thought maybe he was going into shock now that they were out of danger. But he wasn't shivering and appeared alert.

As she finished bandaging his arm, she felt his forehead and asked, "Do you know what day it is?"

"What? Irina, honestly. I'm not in shock; I'm just tired and sore. I just want to get clean and get a good night's sleep," Jack was fairly annoyed.

"Answer the question," she folded her arms.

"For Christ's sake! It's Monday, January twelfth. We're in Dublin, Ireland at the same inn where we had our honeymoon. Does that sound lucid enough?"

"Yes," she nodded. "And you sound lucid enough to tell me what Cuveé and his men did to you."

"They wanted to know what information we were after and if we had found it. They wanted me to betray you. I wouldn't tell them what they wanted to hear.

"They used chains and brass knuckles. They kept up the beating until I passed out. The next thing I remember is waking up with my head in your lap."

"Dear God! I take it back, I'm glad you were able to take out Cuveé," she took a deep, shaky breath. "Is there anything else I can do for you? Do you want any pain meds?"

"No pills. I'm not sure I want to know where you got them. I would actually like to get clean. I'm just going to sit and soak for awhile."

"Just wrap that arm first."

Jack grabbed his sweatpants and a clean pair of boxers and retreated to the bathroom. Once the steaming water filled the tub, he lowered himself in and let the heat penetrate his sore and abused body. Closing his eyes, he let himself relax for the first time in days.

Irina waited about 15 minutes, listening anxiously for any signs of distress coming from the bathroom, before she decided to change into something more comfortable. She was down to her bra and panties, inspecting her own cuts and bruises, when Jack emerged unexpectedly from his bath.

"What did that bastard do to you?" he seethed.

"It's nothing. Not compared with . . ."

Jack took two large strides and caught her before she hit the floor. Carefully, making sure not to injure himself or her any further, he lifted her up on to the bed. He ran his hands over her body lightly, trying to discern anything that would cause Irina to pass out. There were minor cuts and bruises peppering her body, a small knot on top of her head, and a shallow slash across her right thigh.

Glancing up from the wound in her leg, Jack caught a glimpse of crimson staining the crotch of her underwear.

"If you wanted to get me into bed, all you had to do was ask." Irina had regained consciousness.

"Did he rape you?"

The question caught her off-guard. "What?"

"Did . . . he . . . rape you?"

"I . . . Jack . . ."

"Don't lie to me."

"It's nothing he hasn't done before. There was no reason to tell you," she added at the look he gave her. "You wouldn't have cared."

"You can't honestly believe that?"

"What would you have done?"

"Made sure he suffered even more. And made sure he was dead!"

"Jack, I'm fine. I learned to block it out a long time ago. I . . . I just picture your face . . . and pretend we still have a real marriage. I remember how your sweet, brown eyes looked the first time we made love, or when you held Sydney the night she was born . . . and . . . everything is alright."

Jack had moved to the edge of the bed and was sitting with his back to her. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"I should have protected you."

"I wasn't about to let those men beat you to death, if that's what you're thinking. For once, I needed to make a sacrifice for you. I know there's not much I can do to replace the years I took from you. But I've wanted to make it up to you, what I had to do."

"Not like that you didn't," he paused, "Are there any other injuries I should know about? Like ones that would cause you to pass out?"

"No. I think the adreleline finally just wore off. I'm going to use the shower if you don't mind. I need to get that man's foul stench off of me."

Jack nodded his acquiescence. He watched as she gathered clean clothes, along with a scented candle and bubble bath. At the last two items, he raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He waited a moment, then followed her into the bathroom.

"What are you doing?"

"It's my turn to take care of you."

Jack ran the bath water, added the bubble bath, and lit the candle. Then he turned his attention to Irina, gently removing her bra and underwear. Her nipples puckered as he helped her into the tub. His eyes drifted downward.

"I'm not going to apologize. I can't help the way you affect me, Jack. I still find you incredibly sexy."

He said nothing, but soaped up the washcloth and began rubbing it across her back. Irina closed her eyes and allowed Jack to do as he pleased. She was quite enjoying his ministrations until his hand was urging her thighs apart.

"Jack, no! You don't . . ." she fumbled as her eyes flew open.

"Yes, I do. Just . . . close you're eyes again."

She did as he requested and felt his soft touch gently wipe away the dried blood and semen. She felt tears roll down her cheeks but neither of them acknowledged it.

Jack realized that Irina had rarely been gifted with human contact that was anything but harsh and he found himself glad to provide some comfort. He poured water over her head, then worked some shampoo into her hair, massaging her scalp as we went. He rinsed her hair but continued to massage her neck and shoulders.

The water was cooling, so Jack helped Irina out of the tub and wrapped her in a large terrycloth towel. He made sure every drop of moisture was gone from her body before dropping the towel and staring at her.

"What?" Irina was a little embarrassed at how intently he was looking at her.

"You are so beautiful."

"Jack?" She was still confused; she thought she saw something flicker (was it desire?) in his eyes. She took a chance and leaned in to him; her lips touching his, her breasts brushing his chest.

Irina was the aggressor, running her hands down his back and opening her mouth to seek entrance to his. She could feel him holding back despite the arousal pressing against her leg.

She pulled back and asked, "What is it?"

"I . . . we . . . I can't do this."

"Why not?"

"We have to finish our talk."