Shit.She’s seen it. “Go, man. I’ve got her.”
SEVEN
ELLIOT
My hands shake violentlyas I stare down at the three long, red incisions Nick made into my thigh. N for Nick. I blink furiously, trying to stem the tears gathering in my eyes to keep them from falling. I can’t believe he did this to me. I just can’t.
But in the next breath, Icanbecause he’s the same narcissistic, nasty human he’s always been. He knew what this would do to me. And he did it anyway.
My chest catches. Constricts. I struggle for air.
“Peaches,” Archer gasps out, appearing in front of me and taking my hands in his. “Hey, hey, hey, baby look at me.” He stoops until his face is right in front of mine. Those steely gray eyes of his focus on me, staring so deeply inside, I wonder if he sees the degree of damage that Nick has done. “What do you need? I’m here for you.”
“I— I need…” My chest bobs with the effort of trying to express myself as all the words I want to say get trapped in my throat, slicing at me like the razor that was used on me earlier. Everything else around me seems dull and fades away. And for a moment, I’m right back there, tied to the bed, screaming as Nick cuts me for the third time. If I’d known what he was etching into my skin, I’d have screamed a hell of a lot louder. I blink, trying to claw myself back to the present, but in the end, it’s the firm, reassuring squeeze of Archer’s hands on mine that finally brings me back.
“There you are.” He wets his lips, his eyes scanning over my features, and I think he must be looking for any sign that he’s going to lose me again.
God, am I losing my grip on reality?I fixate on the metallic gray of his eyes, studying every last tone of color, every fleck of silver in the irises. He’s so fucking patient. I don’t see a single ounce of judgment in his stare. And it’s for that reason I open my mouth and let my true feelings spill out. “He b-branded me.” A long exhale stutters from between my lips before I can finish my thought. “I feel dirty.”
His brows draw together, and he chews on his lip for a moment. “I want to treat the cuts, obviously, but would you like to shower first… or maybe take a warm bath? What would make you feel clean again?”
“Do you want my honest, unfiltered answer?”
His brows dart up. “Of course, I do.”
“I’m dying to cut his mark out of my skin, but I refuse to let his actions send me into a spiral and undo the progress I’ve made.” My eyes flick to the whirlpool tub set into a base of marble tile. “But a bath sounds good. I’m a little nervous, though, about whether the cuts will start bleeding again.”
“First”—he draws my gaze back to his with a simple touch of his fingers to my jaw—“I want you to know how proud I am of you for fighting that instinct.”
I blink away tears, overwhelmed by his show of understanding, and swallow hard. “It’s not the answer. I know it.”
He leans in, brushing his lips over mine. “And second… will you let me have a look again? I think a bath should be okay.”
I give the barest nod and inhale raggedly as he gently touches my knees to get me to open my legs.
He carefully prods the surrounding skin with his fingertip, then his gaze shifts up to meet mine. “It’s not deep enough to be a problem if you want to get in the tub to relax. And if it becomes one, we get you out. I’ll be right here.” He shrugs, and I know by his matter-of-fact tone and the soothing timbre of his voice that he’s trying to make sure I’m not going to flip the fuck out. I give an internal shrug because surprisingly, it might be working. He shoots a little smirk at me. “I can Google that shit or something if you want.”
I sputter, a hint of a laugh tumbling out, “Really, Archer? What are you planning on putting into the search bar?” I bite down on my lip before allowing my teeth to scrape over it, thinking. “Would it be something like, ‘Can my three boyfriends run me a hot bath after my psychotic ex kidnapped me and carved his initial into my leg with a razor blade?’”
He raises his hand, brushing some hair back from my face. “Not exactly what I had in mind, but if you think that’ll work…” He pulls his phone out of his pocket, a devilish grin tipping his lips. “Hey, Siri, can my three boyfriends—”
I swat at him, stopping the ridiculousness. “You’re such a dork.” I feel my nose wrinkling, and I would have thought I wasn’t in the mood to laugh at all, but I do.
Archer winks at me. “Yeah, maybe Iama dork. But it got me one of your smiles, so I’d call it a W.”
I shake my head, a soft grin remaining on my lips. “Let’s try the bath. Thank you.”
“You got it.” He cups my cheek, then brushes a kiss over the other one before pivoting to turn on the water.
“Not too hot. Just warm.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m on it.” He turns the handle, then holds his hand underneath the flow of the water to check the temperature.
I take a deep breath and force myself to look at the ugly N carved into my skin. My lip trembles ever so slightly, even though I’m fighting like hell not to give what Nick did any power over me.
“Nope.” Archer catches my chin with his fingers, forcing me to look up at him. “Breathe, Elliot.”
I nod, letting the breath I’d been holding release in an unsteady stream. His tone is firm, but his hands are gentle as he encourages me to lift my arms and helps me out of my sundress—I will never wear it again. He holds my hands as I ease off the counter, then slips my panties over my ass and hips. I glance at the offending garments in his hands before my eyes flick to his. “The bag that had the sheets from the motel? Can you put my clothes in there later?”
