“You’re doing amazing,” he praised. “You’re so fucking strong and impressive.” He started sewing up another wound and murmured, “That’s it, just breathe slowly, Princess.” Everything was a jumble of pain. Seconds bled slowly into minutes, then dragged into hours. “Good girl, such a good girl,” John mumbled under his breath absentmindedly as he worked on a gash on my forehead. Suddenly, I forgot how to breathe. A different type of pain streaked across my spine.
