He was silent, trying not to imagine what it had been like for her to stand there, waiting for those punches. Knowing that once one man had finished, another one was waiting to step up and take his turn. Even when she’d been down on the ground and bleeding and half-conscious, they’d have carried on hurting her. He hoped that at some point, Mirrie had just passed out, and found some peace in blackness.
Even if she had, though, Mac was sure that she remembered a lot of her ordeal: he thought about the times that she’d woken up next to him, screaming and shaking. She’d never talked about it, but now he thought he knew what she’d been dreaming about.
He stepped down hard on his rage, tried to stay focused. “And they’ve left you alone since then?”
She looked away, and his stomach clenched.
