His hand moved between her thighs, washing away the blood and semen with clinical efficiency. Then his fingers pushed inside her—not rough like Dante's, but careful, thorough. Cleaning her internally, removing all traces of what had been done to her.
It hurt. God, it hurt. But Atlas was as gentle as he could be while still following orders.
"Deeper," Dante commanded. "Make sure you get everything."
Atlas's fingers pushed deeper, and Novalee cried out. He withdrew immediately and stood, his face carefully blank despite the water streaming down his body.
"I apologize, Ms. Carter," he said formally, as if they were meeting at a business function instead of this nightmare.
"Good job," Dante said. "Now wash her hair. Can't have her going home to James looking fucked."
Atlas grabbed the sh
