Page 28 (2/2)

He doesn’t answer, but that saazes down at my scarred skin As if it hurts him to see the remnants of my wounds

Then his fingertipsdown the neckline of my tank top a little to reveal the second scarred bullet hole The rough pads of his fingers brush over the swell of my breast, and h me

I could run

I could slip away, yank the door open, and flee down the front steps

He’s not physically restraining me at all anymore The only point of contact between us is the place where his fingertips softly caress my skin

But that soft touch pins ht did earlier I’ I can’t even name

&nbs

p; It’s not fair It’s not fucking fair

There are cracks in my skin, breaks in my armor They for those weak spots to crawl inside me

To invade my life

My being

My soul

He seeht-colored scars that ertips over to the third bullet hole This one isit This is the one that took my arm from me

The nerves are fucked up around the bullet wound and in patches all the way downacross it It’s toointense, so I letinside my body

A light stubble shadows his jawline, like hness of it contrasts with the shtly tanned His shoulders are broad andhis leather jacket, there’s still a hint of leather mixed in with the clean scent of his skin