26. Chapter 26 - Cade
“I won’t,” I assure her. I don’t understand why I would hate her for what happened?
Her fingers work their way down, revealing the front of her bra in the growing gap.
Fuck. This isn’t exactly ideal in any way shape or form.
I hang up her coat, then sit back down next to her feeling more like a voyeur watching her cry than someone who’s there to help.
Her entire body is trembling when she reaches her belly and the fabric peels away.
I can’t stop my sharp inhale when I see her pale, bruised skin.
But it isn’t the growing shade of purple that draws my horror, it’s the criss-cross of old white scars that cover her flesh in layers.
“Jesus Christ,” I exhale. My stomach rolls with every inch that she lays bare.
She lets out a choking sob, tugging her shirt back across her abdomen. “I knew you’d be mad.”
“Ros—” Gravel suddenly forming in my throat makes it hard to talk. I can’t believe what I’m seeing.
Ava had a few small marks.
But this? Rosalyn’s body looks like the fractures of a broken windshield. I can’t even see a spot that isn’t covered.
Someone did this to her when she was just a child.
I’m going to be sick.
“I am,” I choke out. “I’m furious, but not at you. At the horrible people who did this and the ones who let it happen to you.”
I want to dig up her parents just to stomp on their bones. To shatter them into dust and flush them down my septic so they have to spend eternity mixed in shit.
When she bites her lip, fresh blood beads on the cut and trickles down her chin. “It was my fault. I didn’t listen.”
“No.” My hands itch to reach out to her. “When a kid doesn’t listen, they get a fucking time out, not eighty lashes.”
Another, more disgusting truth suffocates me.
I don’t know if I have the strength to ask, although I already know the answer…and it stabs through my chest like a knife. “Was this what Ava helped you with?”
Rosalyn clamps her jaw shut, but nods.
“So she knew how bad this was?” And yet never a word to me?
Why didn’t Ava tell the cops once she was out of the house? Why didn’t she try to help her little sister who was being so badly abused?
Ava fucking knew.
Violently I stand, knocking my chair backwards as I rush to the bathroom.
I barely make it to the toilet before I vomit a string of burning bile into the bowl. The woman I had loved was a cruel stranger. How could anyone stand by and not want to stop that insanity?
“Cade?” Rosalyn’s voice is tempered with fear and hesitation. “I’m sorry.”
No wonder she’s always moving with hesitation.
She’s been beaten down her entire life.
Wiping my mouth, I flush and go to her.
“Ros—” God damn it, I can’t keep my words from cracking.
“—you didn’t do anything wrong.” Lifting the wooden chair, I right it and sit in front of her, leaning in to take her hands in mine.
“You’re such an unbelievably strong woman.
I am honored that you trust me.” Fuck. Tears run down my own face, matching the twin paths down each side of her nose.
“I wish I knew a long time ago. I’d have never left you there. ”
My head drops to press my forehead against the back of my wrist. “Why didn’t she tell me?”
“Cade,” she says softly, her thumb moving against my pinky. “Mama made Ava do it too.”
There are hooks of misery digging into my chest, ripping me apart.
Agony makes me raise my focus to her. “What?” I gasp as a jagged piece of my soul dies.
The honesty that bleeds from her frown nearly drowns me. “Mama got in trouble I guess when Ava was little. So she made sure that if CPS ever came back, she could say Ava did it.”
Her mouth twists as she chews on the inside of her cheek. “Ava didn’t want to. She’d cry every time. Then after, she’d try to make me happy.”
I’m gutted.
So much of what I believed was a lie, fabricated by the evil that’s long buried.
My ears ring and my throat is a desert, sapping the words before I can speak.
Everyone who was supposed to love her, hurt her.
It’s only as my blurry gaze falls on the purple mottled bruise that I remember what I’m supposed to be doing.
“Ros? Can I touch you? I just want to see if you broke a rib.” My palms poise over her heaving belly.
After she nods, I tenderly rest my hands against her fractured marks.
No one should ever experience this. She deserves to have someone who loves her painlessly, without causing more. Who sees every dimpled strike as the proof of her resilience and an obstacle she overcame.
Not a weakness or a burden.
With a sharp inhale, she winces when I reach the center of the injury.
“I’m not a doctor,” I admonish her. “But I don’t think it’s broken. I don’t know about your organs though.” I add just a little more pressure, relieved when she doesn’t act like she’s in any more distress.
“I tried to tell you.” A flit of a smile flickers and disappears as she looks down to where our skin meets. “Your hands are warm.”
I’m torn on whether I should pull away. “Is that a bad thing?”
Loose strands of her blonde hair sway across her bandaged temple when she shakes her head. “It’s my new favorite thing.”
Heat rushes through my chest at her hushed words.
It’s mine too, I’m just not sure if I want to say it.
My palms cool when I pull away. “Let’s look at that elbow, huh?” I don’t want to read more into her admission than I should.
Her brows knit as she swivels slowly to offer her arm.
Goosebumps erupt over her marred shoulder when I start to dab the blood away. The scars end above where her sleeve would, a purposeful break in the line of punishment that shows just how premeditated the torture really was.
I wish I was the man to show Rosalyn what love feels like.
But knowing how desperately I loved the woman who caused this much pain…I’m just as much the monster.
After getting her wound cleaned, it ends up being just a hard scrape. With some ointment and a clean bandage, it will eventually be just another scar painted on the canvas of her body. Her other arm is bruised but not bleeding. She’s gonna be sore as shit for a while.
Sitting back, I scrutinize my doctoring skills with a frown.
“I think you’re getting off the hook of having to go to the hospital.
” Letting a soft lift of my cheek sneak out, I meet her big blue eyes.
“I’m going to get your bag from the truck so you have a clean shirt.
” Letting out a sigh, I glance down to her knee.
“Then we’ll tackle your leg. Are you doing okay? Want a Dr. Pepper?”
My own joints scream at me when I push to my feet.
I need a fucking beer. Maybe that bottle of bourbon I have stashed in my truck? Hell, it would help her with the pain too.
“I’d like that.” She winces as she shifts.
Grabbing the small throw blanket from the cushion of the couch, I drape her shoulders and tuck it against her chest.
The last thing I want to do is ever make her feel exposed or vulnerable. She’s already been through too much.
“I’ll be right back.” I don’t even bother with my jacket when I go out into the freezing air.
A light snow drifts down, highlighted in the glowing pillars from the halogen bulbs.
It’s a good night to lay low. What a damn Christmas Eve this turned into?
Moving from the SUV to my pickup, I tuck the alcohol under my arm before climbing the stairs.
But stop at the bottom, fighting the new surge of bile that threatens to rise in my throat.
Ava did that.
Popping the top of the liquor, I down a fast swallow to let the numbing heat move into me.
All the years I’ve mourned such a cruel person burns a hole of fire in my stomach.
Trudging up the steps, I realize the only shining point in this entire situation is that I’ve been given the chance to finally make something right for her.
I can help her by giving her one person in this fucking world who isn’t out to hurt her. Who genuinely wants her to thrive and succeed.
She’s never had that.
“Ros?” I set her bag down and push the door shut. “Do you want me to add a little bit of this to your soda? It’ll help cut the pain.” I hold up the bourbon before setting it on the counter.
Her nose wrinkles.
That’s all the answer I need.
Prying the top of her can open, I set it on the table next to her.
“I’m never gonna force you to do anything, remember?
You always have a choice.” But I scowl as I sit next to her with my beer in hand.
“Except when you’re choosing to not take care of yourself.
” Waving idly at her bandaged elbow, my lips thin. “I don’t want you to hurt, okay?”
Relief loosens her features. “Thank you.”
After the way she was raised, I don’t blame her for having doubts.
“Here.” I pick up her small duffel and set it on my lap. “I figured you’d want to put on a shirt before I asked you to take off your pants.” I try to smile. “Not exactly my ideal way of getting a pretty girl to strip down for me.”
She freezes, her mouth dropping open. “You think I’m pretty?” Then her chin starts to tremble. “Even with the…the…”
My heart shatters for her. “Ros, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. Inside and out.”
Tears shine in her eyes as she focuses on her bag. “No one’s ever called me that.” Then her head shakes stiffly. “I’m not. Please don’t say it. I don’t want you to lie to me.” Her whimper sends coils of frustration into me.
“I’m being honest, Ros. Don’t do that. I hate being called a liar for telling the truth,” I growl, not even bothering to hide my scowl.
Her broken lip rolls out. “Doesn’t mean I’ll believe you.”
“Fair enough.” I tip back my beer and watch her pull a pink top from her satchel.
Then she lays it out on her lap and stares at it.
Why isn’t she putting it on? “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just, um.” Her pinched eyes raise to mine. “I kinda want to take this off first, but my arm doesn’t work that way.”
When her fingers pick at the strap of her bra, I freeze.
Shit.
“Do you need help?” I swallow hard when she nods.
“Tell me what to do.” The last thing I want to do is scare her.
But I’m flustered as fuck right now.
“I just need you to unsnap me.” Her cheeks flush with pink. “My arms don’t bend that way today.” She lets the edges of the flannel blanket loosen to fall off her shoulders, averting her eyes as if she’s humiliated.
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.”