Page 160 of I Know Your Secret
“The little gun in my boot you gave me.”
My eyes drift down as I wonder at the marks on her ass.
“Did he…” I trail off, not knowing how to ask about the horrors Helms inflicted on her.
“He whipped me after I shot him. He had someone else hold me down. Another man who wore a mask.”
That gives me renewed vigor that thereissomeone to kill, and thrill races through my nervous system, synapses jumping in excitement.
I turn her in my arms, tilting her head back underneath the spray of the shower.
The suds wash down her body, and my eyes follow their path as they curve over her breast and down her stomach.
“I’m so fucking mad at you for putting yourself in danger.”
“Charlotte needed help, Koen. What was I supposed to do?”
Her saying my name reminds me just how far we’ve come in this journey of ours.
I thought I wouldn’t ever want her to know me. Now that she does, I want her to scream my name to the heavens and let God know who’s taken up arms, doing his dark fucking deeds in the night, covered in blood.
“I get it, but I’m still fucking mad.”
“I know.”
“You put yourself in danger.”
“I know.”
“You broke the rules.”
“I know.”
We’ve gone back and forth, all the while, getting closer together, our lips hovering nearer and nearer.
“Erase him, Koen.”
“What?!” I’d already come to terms with the fact that it would be a while before Greer was okay from her experience in Helms’s murder basement, so her asking what I think she’s asking right now is in direct conflict with the journey I was ready to walk beside her.
“Erase his touch.”
Squeezing soap into a loofa, I pull back. “Where did he touch you?”
I suds up her shoulder, moving to the other one as she runs a hand over her breast.
“Here.”
I follow the path of her hand with the loofa, anger barely contained in my chest.
Her nipples perk as I tease one and then the other before Greer’s hand travels over her stomach.
“Here.”
I follow the path, washing Helms off her body.
Her hand sinks further, and I nearly see fucking red. “Here.”
I crouch, and the loofa’s path glides between her thighs. Gently, I wash her, watching as her eyes grow heady instead of frantic, ensuring she’s alright.
