Page 53 of Reins

I weigh the odds of cracking a joke but decide against it.

The way her fingers shake and her pulse flutters in her throat, I know she’s on the edge of a breaking point as I reach behind her.

I want to cup her jaw, press a kiss to her temple, show her somehow that she’s safe.

Instead I keep my touch as brief as possible, cringing when I catch a glimpse of the deeper furrows that pucker the skin on her back.

I just need to tell myself that there’s time to prove to her that I’m here for her.

Sitting back in front of her, I take on the gruff exterior that’s so easy to slip into. I know that keeping my distance is the best thing for her tonight. Overloading her with any more contact than is necessary will push her into a spiral I know I’ll have no hope of helping her with. “Alright. Time for the knee.”

Chapter 27 - Rosalyn

My heart races as I use the table to help me stand. Pain ripples through my body to the point I don’t know if I can. Maybe I should take him up on that offer for a stiffer drink?

When I wobble, his palms come up ready to catch me.

“Everything is stiff,” I groan, tugging the blanket around. “Can you, I mean, um, will you hold this up so I can.”

“Of course.” He tugs up the fabric between us, the shield I so desperately need.

Letting my loose bra fall down my arms, I shimmy my t-shirt carefully over my head.

Fuck, my elbow is killing me. I’m glad it isn’t broken. It hurts more than my knee.

With a hard swallow, I unbutton my pants, pushing them down my thighs.

I just want him to…I don’t know. Accept me? Touch my scars without cringing? I hate seeing the revulsion they caused in his eyes.

It makes me feel less. I don’t want to be that to him.

He’s the first person who treats me like a person.

When I sit in only my panties with my pants around my ankles, I can’t stop the shiver of panic that makes my teeth chatter.

With a shaky palm, I lower the blanket he has stretched between his hands to tug it over my bare lap.

“I should warn you,” I stammer, focusing intently on a chipped piece of formica in the kitchen so I don’t have to look at him. “My legs look the same.”

His hot breath washes over me with his exhale. “I thought they would.” He drops his gaze, gesturing with two fingers. “Okay, show me the bad one so you can get comfortable.”

My sore knee slips out the side, revealing a rug burn that runs the length from the middle of my calf to my femur. Blood still oozes from it, but even as he gently cleans it, I can see there isn’t any sort of deep wound.

That makes me feel a little better. I was worried there’d be something there needing stitches since it hurts almost as bad as my side.

“You got pretty lucky,” he mutters, stretching out a strip of medical tape to fasten some gauze down. “This could have been much worse.”

“I know. He threatened to cut me up into pieces and burn my body.” My words tumble out matter-of-factly. They don’t even register as being horrible, I’m so used to hearing stuff like that from Eli.

But the pale set of Cade’s cheeks and the disapproving growl he makes deep in his chest tells me it isn’t as normal as it seems.

It feels strange when his fingers press along the inside of my thigh as he wipes the last of the dried blood. His touch sends a warm line up into my hip in such a strange, new way I’m not sure if I’m supposed to be uncomfortable. I don’t think I am? I kinda like it?

Is that wrong?

“Let me see the other, then we’re done.” He sits back, tossing a quick swallow from his beer down as I shift the blanket.

Only the old white scars show with a faint red tone over my joint, nothing drastic.