33. Talon
Talon
She doesn’t speak as I drive through back roads to get into town, but I can tell her mind is heavy. The way she’s hunkered down in the seat, eyes scanning the rolling fields with a dead look. She’s not doing okay.
I can’t remember a time when I’ve wanted to make someone feel better. Even with Fern. But glancing at Cin every few moments, the urge grows ridiculously stronger. I want to get her out of those clothes as soon as possible, so the first stop is one of the only places in Gravity Hill to get clothing.
Shelly, the owner of Thimble, carries a variety of styles. She’s always been conscious of different tastes in clothing. I’m taking a gamble on there being anything here that Cin will like, and if we can’t find anything, I’ll drive her back to Ravard and let her pack a bag.
Eyeing the front glass windows of the store she doesn’t move from the car, so I watch for traffic and get out once the coast is clear. Walking around the car, I pop the handle and bend down so she’s forced to look at me.
“Are you scared?” I ask.
She just looks at me, staring and I start to wonder if this was a mistake.
“I hate it,” her voice is almost broken, and she looks away, “God, why am I scared?”
“Cin,” I reach for her, and she flinches. I pull my hand back and sit on the sidewalk, “I don’t know how to do soft.”
Her face twists in confusion.
“I don’t know sympathy, I’m well aware there are parts of me that are broken beyond repair, but I’m trying . And I know what you went through was traumatic and fucked up, but I don’t know how to handle it softly. I’ve never had a reason to be anything but hard and angry.”
I swear I catch her lips twitch as she steps one foot out of the car by my hip.
“I need you to try to be brave, while I do my best to be soft, for you.”
“Okay, I’ll try,” she steps the other foot out and stands over me, her fucking pussy right in my face before she waltzes to the door.
After trying on a million outfits–none of which she’d let me see–we’re leaving with six bags full of clothing. I thought Shelly might die when we walked in together, considering I’ve known her since I was little and I’ve never come in to shop with anyone, let alone a girl.
Cin found everything she needed in the large shopping space, and I think she seems a little better than before.
I know Fern and Henry are probably gossiping with Candy over at the bakery, so I might as well get introductions over with.
“Want to get some food?” I ask, loading her bags into the car and slamming the trunk.
She’s changed into one of the outfits she liked, a black dress that flares out at her hips, if she bends over everyone will be able to see her ass, but who am I to weigh in on girls’ clothing. She nods and heads for the passenger door.
“No, no,” I stop her, “we’re walking.”
She looks confused and I take a little pleasure in the way it contorts her face. Holding out my hand I wait for her to take it, she looks between my hands and my face, but eventually smiles and takes my hand.
I thread our fingers together and it feels… like a step toward something that I’m not sure I can be good enough for.
Steering her toward the bakery, I pull the door open and drop her hand as we enter. I’m not ready to answer those questions. Especially from Fern. Henry looks up and smiles at Cin, and she smiles back. If it were anyone but Henry, I’d rip his lips straight from his face.
The thought sends a shock wave through my body.
“You must be Cin,” Candy appears beside us, and Cin takes a step back, bumping into me. To steady her, I place my hands on her upper arms, and she molds her back into my chest. The move feels like comfort and I want to bring my arms around her, but I don’t.
“Candy, give her some space,” I warn.
She rolls her eyes at me and motions us to a table where Henry brings us both drinks.
“Thanks, man,” I mutter, not wanting to make eye contact, because I know he saw me holding her hand before we walked in.
“It’s good to see you two getting along,” he whispers into my ear before walking away.
I guess that’s his way of admitting a truce. So now he won’t be a dick anymore.
“I’ll get y’all a little sampler,” Candy says, “and Fern.”
Cin watches Candy walk away, “dessert for lunch?”
A quick laugh escapes me, “yeah, I guess so.”
Fern brings out a tray filled with cake, croissants, muffins, cookies, biscuits, the whole freaking menu it looks like and I scoff.
“Hey mister,” Fern smacks the back of my head once the tray is on the table, “just because you’ve had your fill of Fern and Flourished, doesn’t mean Cin should be left out.”
Cin chuckles, but tries to hide it behind her cup, “thank you Fern, for everything.”
Fern gives her what I like to call the mom look and squeezes the hand that’s resting on the table.
“I’ve been in your shoes,” Fern tells her, “it helps to have people in your corner.”
She leaves, and Cin and I volley questions back and forth over the plethora of food Fern brought us.