Chapter 6Cade
Cade
One Week Later
The porcelain of the sink digs into my bare lower abs as I unravel the gauze. I throw the remnants in the wastebasket, only for the burgundy line across my forearm to taunt me.
I sigh softly, lifting my hand to grab the knob of the medicine cabinet. After retrieving the antibacterial ointment, I squeeze a generous amount of gel onto the pads of my fingers.
My brows crease when I lather the topical across the long cut. I apply pressure to the tender flesh, noticing the scarlet patches embedded in the shallow wound. There’s most likely going to be a scar left behind, and the realization is just as shitty as it is hopeful.
I’m not looking forward to rocking tattered skin on my ink-free arm, but in the same breath, I’m also wondering if it means she’s going to be okay.
If this was the price for her safety, then the cost was small.
On the other hand, I can’t help but wish the motherfucker sliced my tattooed arm to camouflage the damage.
Nah, fuck that.
The art is too precious.
I twist the cap back onto the nozzle of the tube, my naked knuckle igniting the memory of silk fingers snuggling it. Relentlessly firm. So tight that our skin fused together to the point where I didn’t register that she’d swiped my ring off. At least that’s my best educated guess of what happened.
After returning to the scene and snooping around the pavement to no avail, I eventually swallowed the loss. Then, there was the decision to remain anonymous.
Naturally, I’ve never been one to thrive on attention. But beyond those details, I didn’t want to be that person . The person who digs up a despicable memory for her. The person who would serve as the dreadful keepsake she never asked for.
The last thing I want to do is inflict any more pain than what she already has to endure. I want to gift her a chance to move on. If I inserted myself into her life, I’m afraid I would only be a stressor and a setback.
The rumbling of her petrified body still lingers around me. Sometimes, between my everyday thoughts. Haunting me when I least expect it. But as I consider the woman I rescued, it dawns on me that she’s faceless.
Strangely enough, I find myself wishing I at least knew the color of her eyes.
Olivia
“Ahh!”
My body pops up, chest pounding through staccato breaths in the dark. I plant both palms over my heart, and my fingers clench the cotton of my oversized t-shirt. The ripple effects of my nightmare pulse through me as pearls of sweat decorate my hairline.
“What the hell?!” The midnight around me vanishes in an instant, and my head whips to the open bedroom door. Lauren’s fingers rest on the light switch, her auburn hair cascading over the exposed shoulders under her camisole straps.
I swallow thickly, dragging my eyes to the wall in front of me as my hand slips through my hair. “I’m sorry. I had another nightmare,” I pant out.
Her bare feet pad along the carpet until the mattress dips beside me. “Do you want me to sleep with you?” she asks, sympathy woven in her voice.
My hands cradle the back of my neck, my chin tilting toward the ivory ceiling. “No,” I groan. “You already had to share a bed with me the first few nights. I’ll be fine.”
“Liv, you’re not fine. I’m sure you woke up the whole apartment complex by now,” she deadpans playfully.
My eyes loll to her as I say, “Good. Maybe someone was about to have an affair, and I just saved a marriage.”
“Ugh. Come here,” she breathes, her arm snaking over my shoulders to tug me to her chest.
“This is hell I’m living in,” I grumble.
“Eventually, you’ll feel better. Have you looked into any of those support groups?”
“Not yet. I’ve just been trying to revive my sanity this past week.” I exhaust another breath, knowing the wicked truth behind my simple statement.
My attacker resides in my mind, stripping my mental health one layer at a time. Visions of him flood my brain every free moment, setting up blinders and drowning all casual thoughts. It’s like he’s lurking in the shadows wherever I go, hovering over me like an ominous cloud.
“I’m sleeping with you. You’re not arguing with me,” Lauren demands, shifting off the bed to tread to the doorway. Her fingers press the rocker switch, and dusk engulfs me once again before I shuffle under my sheets.
“I apologize for every time I forced you to engage with the real world. I should’ve respected your introverted ways,” I offer.
Lauren chokes up a laugh, peeling back the corner of the comforter at my left. “ Now you apologize? How convenient,” she drawls, slipping into bed.
I turn to face her, bundling up the bedding close to me. “I was selfish, and I just happen to be seeing the error of my ways. ‘Post Traumatic Redemption,’ if you will.”
Her body mirrors mine, bunching the periwinkle duvet around her torso. “Okay, we’re even. Happy now?”
We lightly chuckle in sync, our smiles the only light cast in the middle of the darkness. It’s pleasant. A feeling that’s distanced itself from me for the past week.
Lauren rolls on her back, her brown eyes angled toward the ceiling before I pivot to open my nightstand drawer. When I lay my back against the mattress, I twirl the stainless-steel ring between my fingers. I savor the way the divots kiss my skin, my lower belly flipping at the connection.
The silhouette of Lauren’s head turns toward me, but I continue admiring the metal regardless of her judgement. “Do you ever plan on returning it?” she asks.
“It makes me feel safe,” I confess softly. “Like he’s here. Like no one can hurt me anymore.” My attention swings to Lauren, brows dipping in uncertainty. “I don’t think I want to.”
“I think you should return it.”
I shrug, my eyes landing back on the item in question. “I don’t even have a name or address to track him.”
“Maybe you could ask Officer Bellmont to give it to him,” Lauren suggests.
My lips purse to the side, subtle disappointment seeping in when I realize my excuse isn’t strong enough to keep him close. “I didn’t think about that.”
“You can even send it back with a note.”
I wag my head, almost irritated at the sense she’s making. “No amount of words could ever describe how thankful I am. My letter would never pay justice to the ‘thank you’ I owe him. It would sound stupid,” I admit.
“You have few options, Liv. The odds of bumping into this guy randomly are insanely slim. Microscopic, even. So, before the wheels start turning in that dramatic head of yours, don’t get your hopes up too much.”
“How can I when I have an eternal pessimist lying next to me? Explain to me again how we became friends?” I tease.
“We need each other to pay the bills.”
A smile sprouts across my mouth, my chest bouncing. “Ah, right.” Her palm cradles my face, tugging my head closer to plant her lips on my cheek. “Okay, you’re probably right,” I squeeze out.
“Exactly,” she huffs, pivoting to sink her backside into the mattress once again.
My teeth dig into my bottom lip. I maneuver the ring between my fingertips, appreciating every crevice like I’m an artist who has found the world’s greatest masterpiece. “What do you think he looks like?” I blurt out.
“Oh Lord,” she drawls. “What do you think he looks like? This should be gold.”
I roll my eyes just as I let her playful insult tumble off my shoulder. “Dirty blond hair and bright blue eyes. The sort of clean-cut look that makes him prettier than me.”
“Yeah, that’s pretty much what I expected,” she replies flatly.
I turn my palm up. “He’s a hero. Aren’t all heroes the typical Prince Charming you see in Disney movies?”
“Or he could just be an average-looking guy because he’s not a fictional character. Just a thought.”
“I resent that,” I affirm. “He’s got to be beautiful.”
Lauren’s hand covers both of mine, her cool skin extinguishing some of the heat. “You’re infatuated, Liv. It’ll pass.”
“No way,” I reject her accusation immediately. “But how can I harbor feelings for someone I don’t even know? Let alone what they look like?”
She peels her palm off me, and the fire spreads once again. “I think any woman would feel the way you do. This is just a phase that’ll eventually fade. Trust me,” she lectures.
My mouth seals.
Her words are untrue.
Mistaken.
We’re bonded by this invisible string, and even though it’s long and winding right now, I have to believe that it will straighten until the moment we meet again.