Illya
My eyelids popped open, and the fine hairs on my face bristled with the sensation of being watched. Grogginess slowed my mind, and I flung my arm over my eyes to block out the weak sunlight that streamed through where the curtains didn’t cover. Lead enveloped my muscles, and my lungs struggled to fill as I took a deep breath.
“I told you to go away, Theo.” I was so damntiredof this guy, and I tossed my head to the side to frown. Theo sat on the other cot, shoulders hunched, like a tiger ready to pounce, and he matched my expression with furrowed brows. “Why won’t you just go away? I had to leave work because you hurt me, and you did that creepy thing when you washed my hands after we found Sylvie. Are you just not making the connection? I want you to leave me alone.”
“We found your friend in a heroin den, and I could tell how skeeved out you were.” His gruff reply sent a spasm of irritation through my cheek, and I braced my hands on the metal support bars of the cot to gingerly sit up. Sucking in a sharp breath when my bandages rubbed my skin raw, I glanced down to find myself stilly fully clothed. Surprise bubbled up in my chest, and I pursed my lips thinly as my gaze flickered to Theo. “I’m taking you out for breakfast.”
Scowling darkly, I opened my mouth to tell Theo to fuck off, but my words dried at the sharp glare he shot me. Clamping my mouth shut to grind my teeth, my stomach grumbled with need, and I exhaled slowly before forcing myself to nod a jerk of my chin. He stood up, and on my cot, it almost looked like his head would bash into the ceiling, he was so tall and broad.
“Let’s go.” Throwing my legs over the side of the cot, I winced as I stood up myself, the tender skin on my chest pulling taut. Holding up my hand to stop Theo, I struggled not to run my fingers through my hair.
“Hold on. I have to wash my hair. I’m not supposed to have the dye in for more than six hours. What time is it?” Curiosity mingled with annoyance and impatience on Theo’s face as he pulled a brand-spankin’-new phone out of his jean pocket.
“Nine-twenty-two in the morning.” My eyes widened, and an almost amused smirk played on his hard, jagged features. “Not used to being up so early?”
“Um . . . no.” I tore my eyes off him to grab my blanket in an attempt to fold it, but the whole top half of the cot was covered in green dye. Blinking hard, I scrunched up my face at the fact that I’d have to spend money unnecessarily. “Damn.”
Of course, I could just wash it all and deal with the stains, but going to a laundromat was probably more expensive than getting a new blanket and pillowcase. Keen eyes followed me as I shuffled toward the corner designated as the kitchen, and I pressed my palms down on my hips to arch a little. My back popped, and a gust of a sigh escaped me before I grabbed the bathroom door handle.
Pausing to look over my shoulder, I frowned as Theo stared at my ass with an appreciative glint in his eye.
“Don’t try to come in the shower with me or anything creepy like that.” His narrowed gaze snapped to my face at my demand, and I hid my surprise when he only nodded silently. “Seriously.”
“I won’t creep on you in the shower, Illya. I know I’m not making the best case for myself, here, but I wouldn’t do that . . . unless you asked me to.” Arching a brow quizzically, my frown deepened, and Theo scanned me from top to bottom above thinned lips. “I’mnota creep. I think we got off on the wrong foot here.”
“Right.” Pushing the door open with that skeptic reply, I shut myself in the bathroom to lean against the barrier and heave a massive sigh. “What the fuck?”
Jerking the shower curtain closed, I turned on the knob to just above lukewarm and gingerly peeled off my shirt. A fury of emotions bombarded my chest and squeezed my heart, and I scowled at the edge of the shower, rising up off the old, cracked tiles.
If Theo wasn’t a creep, why theshitdid he stick around in my apartment and watch me sleep for twelve hours? What the Hell did he consider that kind of thing if not straight-upweird? And, now, he basically strong-armed me into going to breakfast for . . . for what? To show me he wasn’t a creep? That he could do normal things that weren’t glaring and scowling and occasionally doing a shitty parking job?
“Ow.” Torn from my thoughts when I climbed out of my jeans to unsnap my leotard, I held my breath as I rolled the fabric up my chest. “Ow-w-w shit.”
My bandages stuck to my skin, and I pulled my bodysuit over my head to tug the taped end free. Blowing out a hot breath, my hands shook as I carefully unwrapped my torso, and I winced as swear acted like a glue against my scar.
Could such extensive burns even be called a single scar, or was it like a conglomerate of scars?
“Oh, my God.” Covering my mouth with my free hand, clamminess tingled against my lips, and I choked on a gasp. It seemed like forever before I’d unraveled myself, and I rolled up the bandage to toss it into the trash by the toilet. My bathroom was so small that one ninety-degree turn and I was in front of the sink, and the other way, the toilet. I didn’t have to take a single step except to get into the shower, and goosebumps blanketed my body.
I just had to wash my hair. Such a concept was simple, but putting it into practice was much harder. My chest tightened and spasmed from the streams of cold water, not frigid but not warm, either, and I turned my back to the showerhead. Squeezing my eyes shut, I took stabilizing, forceful breaths as my heart rate jacked up, and I straightened my curled spine as I slowly but surely got used to the pain.
“Shit.” Green ran in rivers down my body, and I grabbed my shampoo to help wash all the color out. My hands still shook, but I didn’t pay it any mind as I let the pounding on my scalp massage my haggard brain.
I need to take my contacts out.My face was so caked in shit that I hadn’t even remembered my contacts until that moment, and I scrunched up my nose in irritation. I had developed something of a routine, and that’d been shattered to pieces by Theo. Kneading my scalp and running my fingers through my hair, I tensed and eased as raising my arms pulled the tissue on my chest.
Theo might’ve only had two fingers and a thumb on the one hand, but I wondered if even he could handle seeing me naked. Shit,Ididn’t even want to see me naked most of the time. Rinsing my hair, I cracked open my eyes to glance behind me, and a relieved sigh escaped me at the clear water dripping from my hair. The long strands were black from being so soaked, and I grabbed my face wash to stare down my front.
“What guy thinksthisis attractive?” My palm hovered over my chest, and I cupped my breast, or what little of it I still had. A dense lump formed in my throat and my grip on my wash bottle tightened as disgust battered the backs of my eyes. I’d never—not ever—had sex without my shirt on and the guy absolutely fucking trashed, just blind drunk. As messed up as that policy was, I didn’t really have a choice.
One time, when I was still pretending to the world that I wasn’t homeless and dirty, I’d taken off my shirt with my first serious boyfriend. He was faceless now, but the image of him projectile vomiting at the sight of me— that was a memory I’d never be able to scrub from my mind.
And Theo would be no different, I knew.
“Maybe I should do that, so he’ll finally leave me alone.” The hot pink flesh, swirling with tints of normal, pale coloring and purplish blotches in some places, twitched noticeably as my breath flowed down it. An absolutely enormous, sickly green-yellow bruise smeared across my side where Theo had grabbed me, and I dragged my fingers down it. Only the crescent indents of his fingernails really stung, and my lips thinned as I shook my head viciously.
That wouldn’t work— Theo would just try harder. He’d see me as a broken thing that he could try to fix.Maybe that’s not such a bad idea considering my patchwork, duct tape job is failing so miserably.
