Page 48 of Reins

He’s actually incredibly handsome.

Shit. Heat rushes through me even as my wound stings from his touch.

“Does that hurt? I’m sorry.” With a softened gaze, he meets my eyes. “I’m so fucking sorry, Ros,” he whispers. “I should have gone with you.”

“It’s my fault. I don’t want to press charges.” I fight the urge to flinch. I know he’s going to be mad.

When his jaw clenches and his nostrils flare, I know I’m right.

“How is this your fault?” he grits through his teeth. “And how are you sure you don’t have internal bleeding? The way you’re holding your side worries me, Ros.”

He’s angry, yet still cares?

I’m not used to that.

Even if my insides are injured, I’m not going to get checked. One thing my mother beat into me for years was to never tell someone when I’ve been hurt.

Maybe it was so she wouldn’t get caught for all the times she lost control when she was whipping me?

It doesn’t matter. “I don’t want to go.” What if they take me away from Cade?

Send me to jail for leaving home? Who knows what stories my brothers would make up in their own defense.

Shit, they might even try and charge me for stealing my own horse. Then Cade would get in trouble for having it here.

He rubs the heel of his hand into his eye and glowers at me. “Your arm is bleeding. Your pant leg is soaked in blood. And he tried to cut your fucking throat!” His voice raises while his fingers open and close against his thigh as he takes a ragged breath.

“Can you…um.” My tongue darts over the wound, making it burn again. “Patch me up?”

I trust him over anyone at the hospital.

“Ros. I’m not a doctor.” He shrugs off his coat and hangs his hat on the hook. “My brother is. He’d be able to take much better—”

“Please?” I want to cry. To run into the corner and bury my face so he can’t see the marks.

His shoulders droop. “Okay. Just know the only medicine I’ve practiced is mending the occasional horse injury.” He frowns, shaking his head and his voice drops to a whisper. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

I’m pretty sure his animals probably got better care from him than I ever got from most of my family. “You won’t. I know it.”

He’s had his chance, over and over to prove it if he meant me harm.

But he hasn’t. Instead he’s encouraged me to be myself, to own my choices.

I just made a really fucking bad one.

“Here.” He flips the chair away from the table. “The light is the best in the kitchen.” Waving towards the seat, tugs open one of the cabinets to pull out a first aid kit. “If anything takes stitches, we’re going to the clinic.”

He can say it all he wants, I won’t go.

When he disappears into the bathroom, I let my head fall against the backrest.

I’m such an idiot. I wouldn’t be surprised if Cade finds the first reason to pawn me off on someone.

No one wants a liability like me.

“I got a warm cloth. It’ll be better than that paper crap,” he grumbles, then slides the other chair near me. “I’ll start by getting the dried blood cleaned up.”

As he pauses, I give him a nod to continue.