Chapter Twelve
Shadow
Morning light slices through the blinds, but for once, I don’t hate it.
She’s still here, curled up in my bed, hair spilled across the pillow, lips parted in sleep.
For a minute, I just watch her breathe. She looks younger like this, softer.
Like all the weight she carries finally let her go for a few hours.
I should let her sleep. Instead, I find myself planning.
She’s got nothing. No coat, no bag, not even a purse. Nothing but what Lexi put together for her, along with some waist-high knickers that she picked up from the local supermarket. All of which bury her thin frame. Remi deserves more.
Hell, she deserves everything.
By the time she stirs awake, I’ve already decided.
“Get dressed,” I say, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek and pulling on my jeans.
Her eyes crack open, wary. “Why?”
“Because I’m taking you shopping.”
The suspicion hits her face instantly. “Shopping?”
“Yeah.” I grin, though it feels strange on me. “Clothes. Shoes. Whatever the fuck you need.”
She sits up slowly; the blanket clutched to her chest. “I don’t need anything.”
I arch a brow. “Rem, you’ve been wearing the same stuff for days. And it’s too big. You need everything.”
Her mouth twists, defensive. “I’m not a charity case.”
“I didn’t say you were.” I cross the room and crouch so I’m level with her. “But you’re with me now. At least, sort of, and that means I take care of you.”
Her eyes flick away, guilt flashing. “I’m not comfortable with you spending money on me.”
“Tough.” My tone is tighter than it should be, but I mean every word. “I want to, so unless you’d rather walk around barefoot and half-frozen, you’re coming with me.”
She huffs, exasperated, but there’s a faint smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “You don’t take no very well, do you?”
“Not when it comes to you.”
For a second, silence stretches. She studies me like she’s searching for the catch, waiting for the mask to slip. But I don’t look away.
Finally, she sighs. “Fine. But I’m not promising I’ll enjoy it.”
I smirk, offering her my hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll enjoy it enough for both of us.”
Remi
I hate shopping centres. The polished floors, the bright lights, the way people look at you like they can smell you don’t belong. I trail after Shadow, wishing the ground would swallow me whole.
He doesn’t seem to notice the stares. He strides through like he owns the place, all broad shoulders and leather kutte, making the security guards glance twice before deciding they’re not paid enough to follow him.
We step into a pretty boutique. Its walls are rows upon rows of glass shelves, stacked with perfume and other beauty stuff that make my eyes water just looking at the prices. It’s a place I’d never come in a million years. Not just because I feel out of place, but because it screams expensive.
The assistants spot Shadow instantly. How can they not when he’s the biggest thing in here? Their eyes light up like moths to flame.
“Can I help you, sir?” One of them practically purrs, brushing past me like I’m invisible. Another giggles as she offers to show him the men’s section, along with a personal shopping experience. What does that even mean?
I shrink back, folding my arms tight across my chest. My reflection in the mirror mocks me.
My hair is still damp from this morning’s shower—Shadow was too impatient to wait for me to dry it—and my face is bare.
Makeup’s not really my thing, and compared to these beautiful shop assistants, I must look pale and dowdy.
I’m also drowning in his T-shirt because both tops Lexi gave me were filthy.
I don’t fit with him. And then there’s the way they look at him—hungry, like he’s a prize. It only proves that I don’t fit here.
Shadow picks out an item from the rail, but his gaze doesn’t flicker to either of them. It stays on me.
“What do you think?” he asks, holding up a jacket against my frame. “Too big?”
The assistant’s frown, exchanging a glance when they realise, he’s not even looking at them.
I clear my throat, my voice small. “It’s fine.”
His eyes narrow in that way they do when he’s about to lecture me.
He steps closer, holding the jacket up properly now.
“I don’t want you to just agree, Rem. Find something you like.
I want you warm. We’ll try this one. And this.
” He pulls another off the rack, ignoring the way the assistant bats her lashes.
He thrusts it at me. “Go try them on, Rem.”
I hesitate, feeling their eyes burning into me, silently asking what I have that they don’t. Nothing, I think. Absolutely nothing. He just hasn’t realised yet.
But then Shadow reaches out, brushing his knuckles down my arm, gentle enough to make my heart stutter. “Humour me,” he says softly.
The assistants’ smiles vanish altogether.
“Come with me?” I ask, my voice still low as I take the jackets.
He nods, smiling. His fingers link through mine, and he walks me over to the changing room. “I’ll be right here,” he tells me, lingering by the door.
I slip inside the changing room, clutching the jackets tightly. The mirror is too bright, too honest. I tug one on, the sleeves hanging long past my hands, and I almost laugh. I look like a kid playing dress-up.
Through the thin curtain, I hear Shadow clear his throat. “You good in there?”
I swallow hard. “Yeah.” My voice wobbles, so I force it steadier. “Just . . . trying it on.”
I push the curtain back a fraction. He’s leaning against the wall, his arms folded, oozing sexiness. I glance around, noting the assistants are now whispering from behind the counter, glancing our way every few seconds.
“What do you think?” I ask, embarrassed.
His mouth curves into a grin. “I think you’re beautiful.”
Heat crawls up my neck. “It’s too big.”
“So, we size down.” He shrugs like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “You’re still beautiful.”
The assistants exchange a look, their irritation obvious now. I should feel smug. Instead, guilt gnaws at me. He doesn’t see what they see. He doesn’t see what I see in the mirror—a girl out of her depth, clinging to something she can’t keep.
I yank the curtain shut again, biting my lip. My chest feels too tight.
“Rem?” His voice is gentle, patient.
“I’ll take it,” I call out quickly, because if I don’t say something, I might break.
“Good,” he says, satisfied.
As if the experience with the bitchy assistants wasn’t bad enough, we step into the next shop and it’s just as ridiculous.
There are rows and rows of gleaming heels, leather boots that probably cost more than I’ve ever had in my bank account, and trainers displayed like artwork.
The air smells of polish and money, and I instantly feel like an imposter again.
“Is this all necessary?” I mutter, hovering near the doorway like the floor might bite. “I can find a perfectly good pair at the charity shop.”
Shadow stops dead then turns. His eyes pin me, steady and unyielding. “Every woman deserves a decent pair of shoes, Rem.”
Before I can argue, his fingers lace through mine and he pulls me farther inside. Heads turn instantly—staff, shoppers, everyone—but he doesn’t notice. Or if he does, he doesn’t care.
A saleswoman zeroes in, her smile bright and false. “Can I help you?” Her gaze flicks to me once before locking onto Shadow, like I’m just the inconvenient baggage he dragged in.
He doesn’t even glance her way. He squeezes my hand instead. “Yeah,” he says, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “She needs shoes. Whatever she wants, she gets.”
Heat creeps up my neck. The saleswoman blinks, clearly wrong-footed, but forces her smile wider. “Of course. Right this way.”
She leads us deeper into the shop, and I can feel eyes on us. On him. I know what they’re thinking, that he’s out of my league. They’re right. He could have anyone. The girls behind the counter would line up for him if he crooked a finger.
But he doesn’t even look at them. He’s looking at me, his thumb brushing slow circles against the back of my hand like I’m the only one in the room.
And that’s somehow worse because it makes me want to believe it.
“Is it for any particular occasion?” she asks, pointing to a seat.
I lower, looking at Shadow for guidance.
“She needs trainers, some comfortable shoes, and maybe some boots.” His eyes scan the shop. “Something winter-proof.”
“Shadow, I don’t need three pairs of footwear,” I mutter.
Without warning, he lowers, his hand gently rests against my throat as he tugs me close. His lips practically brush mine as he says, “Logan. My name is Logan.”
I shiver involuntary. “Logan,” I whisper, sounding breathless.
“Better,” he says, kissing me on the lips before pulling back.
My cheeks are burning, and I glance around, noticing eyes still on us. Wishful glances, breathy sighs, and when I finally look at the shop assistant, she’s fanning her face. “I’m a four,” I mutter, biting my lower lip to stop the smile threatening to break free.
“Of course,” she says, flustered as she rushes off.
“Don’t do that again,” I whisper.
Shadow gives me a confused look. “What did I do?”
I laugh. The fact he’s so oblivious makes it even more sexy. “Nothing,” I say with a giggle. “Forget it.” He shrugs; his brow furrowed like I’m speaking another language.
The assistant hurries back with a stack of boxes, nearly tripping in her rush. She drops them at my feet, cheeks flushed. “Here, let’s start with these.”
I glance at Shadow, rolling my eyes as he crouches before me. “Let me,” he tells her until she stumbles back, allowing him space.
He slides his hand down my leg, cupping the back of my ankle like I’m Cinderella. I shake my head, almost laughing as he slips off the trainers I’d borrowed from Kasey.
His big hands dwarf me, callused fingers careful against my skin as he slips my foot free. It does something to me that I don’t want to admit.