Chapter 5: Resolution
Anna's eyes flutter open. Her head is throbbing, she's groggy, and her whole body aches from the beating she received from the white supremacists. She , up and realized that she was wearing an over-sized flannel shirt and a large pair of jeans tied around her waist with a bit of laundry line. "Well, look who is awake," she hears a man's voice say.
Anna turns her head toward the direction of the voice and sees Russ, the man who had helped her escape the white supremacists, sitting in a wooden chair with a blanket draped over his legs.
"How are you feeling?" he continues, his voice soft and soothing.
Anna pulls herself into a sitting position, "You are the man that saved me from those psychos," Anna hoarsely says.
She can still feel the sharp pain of the beating she took, and her body is begging her to lay back down on the makeshift bed.
Russ rises from the chair and takes a step closer to Anna. He is wearing the same dirty clothes he has had on for days, but the smell of him isn't disgusting; it's earthy and musky, arousing Anna in ways she never thought possible.
"Yeah, I'm Russ. And you're safe now," he whispers, his voice gravelly.
Anna's eyes drift shut as Russ's fingers gently brush the hair from her face. She had never been this vulnerable before, this open to another person. The pain from her injuries melts away as the warmth of Russ's calloused hands travels down her neck and over her shoulders. The sensation awakens every nerve in her body, making her aware of every nook and cranny, every secret place that has never seen the light of day.
Russ's touch lingers at the base of Anna's neck, his thumb tracing lazy circles on her delicate skin. "Thank you," Anna whispers. "My name is Anna, Anna Wong." She says, savoring the taste of speaking her own name."I'm an accountant from San Francisco." Russ looked at the abused woman, "Nice to meet you, Anna Wong. Accountant from San Francisco." Russ looked at the abused woman, taking in her dark brown eyes, the curve of her cheek, and the way her lips parted just slightly. "Get some sleep, my friend." Russ whispered, reluctantly pulling back from Anna's soft, inviting form. He knew he should keep his distance, but the undeniable attraction between them was as potent as jet fuel, rendering any attempt at self-control moot.
Russ's eyes slid shut, as if he could block out the image of Anna's innocent eyes and the swollen flesh around her mouth, bruises that were a stark reminder of the world's cruelty. He needed to remind himself that this vulnerable, broken woman was not one to be selfishly coveted.