If Damien said something like that to me, I think I’d panic. I think I’d be trying to figure out how to fix it. But this isn’t Damien; this isAustin.And Austin would never, ever hurt me. “I know,” I croak out. “But I thought he was going to hurt you.”
Austin’s eyes search my face slowly, then he shakes his head. “There’s no one out here, Luc.”
“But…”
His thumbs brush along my jaw. “There’s no one. I checked, Ipromise.”
“But the noises and the shadows.”
God, I can’t believe I freaked out like that. I’m so fucking stupid.
“No one is out there. It might have been an animal or just the wind.” His thumbs swipe up my cheeks and press against my cheekbones, grounding me. “I promise, Luca. I won’t let anyone hurt you, okay?” I nod slightly. “I promise,” he repeats firmly.
I take a deep breath, then another. “Okay,” I whisper. “I’m sorry.”
Austin shakes his head. “Don’t be sorry. You’re shivering. Let’s get you inside and cleaned up.”
His hands fall away from my face, and he grips my forearms to help me to my feet. My knees almost buckle again, and he wraps an arm around my shoulder, tucking me against him and supporting most of my weight.
He gets me into the bathroom and helps me sit down on the closed toilet lid. I follow him with my eyes as he grabs a washcloth and wets it in the sink, then grabs an antibiotic ointment.
When he kneels in front of me, he methodically cleans my face, and I keep my eyes locked on his. When he’s done, he starts dabbing the ointment onto my skin with his pinky, careful not to be too rough.
I must look confused because he sighs, darting his eyes to mine. “You’ve got a couple of cuts on your face. Nothing too bad. But we still needed to get them cleaned up.”
I nod slowly. That makes sense, I guess. When he’s done with my face, I hold my hands open for him, palms up. He repeats the process, only this time he has me stand and rinse my hands in the sink. The warm water feels good, but it stings too, especially when he carefully works to get the grit and dirt out of the scrapes on mypalms. He makes quick work of drying my hands, and then he sits me back on the toilet to put ointment on them and wrap them.
I’m not sure I’ve ever had anyone tend to my wounds like this. Normally, I just avoid the mirror and hope nothing looks too bad. Sometimes I’ll get the blood off my skin so I don’t embarrass Damien, but that’s it.
“My knee,” I whisper when he starts to stand up.
“Alright, which one?”
“My right one.”
Austin nods, then lifts my foot, placing it in his lap. He unties my shoe, pulling it off my foot, and tosses it onto his bedroom floor, then he pushes the leg of my sweats up until he exposes the angry, bleeding wound on my knee.
He hums, almost to himself, before carefully moving my leg and standing up again. He grabs a fresh washcloth, using it to wipe away the blood on my knee. Before I know it, I’m bandaged and free of blood.
“Is anywhere else hurt?” he asks, looking up at me.
I take stock of my body. My heart has finally slowed, my breathing easy and deep. My knee, my face, my hands. No. Nothing else hurts. I shake my head. “No. Thank you.”
I hate to say it, and I wouldn’t dare say it out loud, but I feel decent. Aside from the panic attack, of course. The pain is grounding. It definitely feels strange to be in a body with no pain, so I revel in the stinging of my hands, the dull throbbing of my face, and the aching of my knee.
Austin takes off my other shoe, then helps me stand. As we walk past the bathroom mirror and into his bedroom, my heart sinks. I don’t know how to live in a body with no pain, but Iamsad to see my face like this. I was almost healed. The bruising had faded toalmost nothing. I was starting to recognize myself, to see the person I was before I met Damien.
And now? Now I’m covered in his marks again.
“I’m going to try to sleep,” I say softly. “I’m genuinely sorry I woke you up.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Austin says again, just like he did outside.
He leads me back into the living room, and I sit down on the couch. Austin hovers while I get situated and lie down, pulling the blankets over me and burying myself in a soft cocoon. “Goodnight, Austin. Thank you for taking care of me.”
He’s quiet for a second, but then he sighs. “You’re welcome. I’m going to lock the door, okay?”
“Okay.”
