THE CUT BENEATH #2
That stings more than I was ready for.
“Will you let her?” I ask, watching him closely. Not that he actually has a say in this, but I let him believe he does.
“I want her to stay,” he admits. “But she’s young.
This life, here in the middle of nowhere, she’s capable of so much more.
If there’s even a chance at normal for her, she should take it.
” His voice is calm, but his jaw clenches, giving me a look that cuts straight through me.
“But if she’s not safe at home, she doesn’t leave. Period.”
◆◆◆
The storm has picked up. Rain hits the windows harder. Thunder rolls overhead. Lightning splits the sky, turning the cabin into a brief flash of white before the dark returns.
Cash tells me good night when I head upstairs to check on her, but I can tell his mind isn’t in the words.
Mine sure as hell isn’t either. He’s clearing up the living room, looking right through me.
I guess he’s settling in on the couch again.
No chance he’s leaving tonight. The weather’s too rough, and he’s exactly where he wants to be.
Pausing in the bathroom, I tap my fingers against the cold edge of the sink. My reflection hasn’t changed much since this morning, but the man staring back is different.
She wants to go home. It sinks deeper than it should. It was the plan all along. Cash plays it cool, but I know better. I’ll have to keep him from making a stupid decision.
I push off the sink and step into my bedroom. Some floorboards creak beneath my feet. Every step sounds louder in the silence. The house is holding its breath, or maybe I am.
Her door is open a crack. Warm light spills across the floor. I slow, then thump my knuckles lightly against the frame.
She’s sitting on the edge of the mattress, knees pulled up, chin resting on them, caught mid-thought. The room carries that warm, just-showered freshness. Her head shoots up, startled. Light catches in her eyes. Excitement. A flicker of guilt following close behind.
It hits me then: She’s wondering if I know.
Wondering if I mind.
And then she says it. “He kissed me.”
I don’t move. No tension in my shoulders. My lungs hold a steady pace. I already know, but hearing it from her, hearing her choose to tell me, hits me in the best possible way.
I lean my shoulder against the doorframe, arms crossing loosely.
“And?” I ask.
“I let him.” Her voice holds firm, but there’s a question in it. She’s bracing, expecting a reaction that might cut.
“That explains why his tongue is still attached,” I murmur, the corner of my mouth quirking.
She almost answers in kind, but her gaze drops to the floor.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m confused,” she admits. “I feel like I’ve betrayed you even though that doesn’t make sense.”
“It doesn’t.” I enter and motion to the spot beside her. “Can I?”
She nods and scoots over, making room for me.
Legs stretched out, I sit down next to her, hands resting on my thighs.
“You didn’t betray me,” I say. “You’re being honest, with him, with me, and with yourself.
That doesn’t make you selfish, it makes you brave.
You didn’t hide or sugarcoat it. That makes you more...
” I glance at her, letting the word come slowly.
“Beautiful. I understand why Cash has a thing for you.”
She turns toward me. “And you?”
Surprised by her question, I search her eyes, trying to understand what she’s really saying.
“Do you have a thing for me?”
A blush colors her cheeks. Her teeth nervously graze her lower lip like she’s bracing for an answer she might not want. Unable to hold my gaze for long, she looks down, her eyes landing on the tiny, red-edged hole below my ribs.
“Did I do that?” she asks, her face brightening as a wicked grin breaks through.
Before I can answer, she reaches for me, her fingers slipping beneath the fabric. One touch, and the careful distance between us disappears.
Her smooth fingertips are warm against my body. She lifts the shirt carefully, examining the tiny cut as if it matters more than it does. Her hand lingers, and my skin burns where she touches me. She traces the flesh around the mark.
That’s all it takes. My restraint cracks, splintering hairline-thin. I take her wrist and pull her toward me. She doesn’t resist, the air catching in her lungs.
I kiss her.
For a split second, I almost pull back, because this isn’t what I’m supposed to do. Because she’s still learning who she is, and this should only be a job for me.
But then she leans in, and I’m lost.
My tongue roams her mouth with a hunger I’ve been trying to ignore. She melts into it instantly. Her hand slips beneath my shirt again, now with a different purpose. She explores my abs, ribs, chest. Her touch isn’t shy. It’s curious, unguarded. She’s claiming every inch she can reach.
I shift slowly, pushing her back until her shoulders meet the mattress. I cover her, half my weight pressing into her body, fitting between her legs as though I always belonged there.
The lamp flickers out just as thunder cracks above.
Her hands move to my back, tracing the muscles there. Her welcoming thighs part wider. My hips press closer, and her fingers dig into my skin.
I kiss her deeper.
She’s all jittery nerves with a sweetness that catches me off guard.
If I don’t stop now, I’ll pin her to this mattress, rip her clothes off, and kiss every inch of her until she forgets her own name. I’ll map her skin with my mouth, one breathless moan at a time, until she’s trembling under me, begging for more. But tonight is not the time.
I force myself to pull back, panting against her lips. My palm cups her cheek, my thumb brushing lightly across her flushed skin illuminated again and again by jagged bursts of light.
“I wanted to do this the moment you almost broke my nose,” I whisper.
She lets out a giggle and buries her face against my shoulder.
I stroke her hair, anchoring myself in the rhythm of it, waiting for my heartbeat to settle.
I have to get out of here. That’s the smart move, the right move.
Put space between us before I make a mistake I can’t undo, but the thought of walking out is tearing muscle from bone.
Even though every part of me screams to stay, I say it.
“I should go, check the generator.”
Forcing my legs toward the door, I grip the frame like it’s the only thing holding me upright.
I glance back once more, and the fight is over before it even starts. My voice comes out rougher than I intended.
“If you want, you can sleep in my bed tonight.”
Then I leave her there without waiting for an answer. Some things you don’t chase. You wait and hope they choose you back.