She didn’t answer, only hunched her shoulders, silent. Nothing disturbed the steamy, warm air of his bathroom, except for the shuddery sound of her breathing.
“Burns,” she finally whispered.
Luc’s teeth clenched so hard his jaw cracked audibly. His hands felt like battering rams without a target, knuckles white.
“Can you…” He held back, breathing hard. “We need to get those bandages off.”
She nodded in agreement, and like a fool, Luc wasn’t at all sure he wanted to see.
In the end, it wasn’t a simple matter of taking off the bandages, since they were stuck to her skin. But the more he saw, the angrier he got.Putain d’enculés.
Brands. Those pigs had fuckingbrandedher.
Regret, that’s what he felt, at having let her go back to them. And fear, too. Not the fear of facing off against that smooth and slimy snake bastard, but the fear of Abby dying here. Fear of being responsible for her. For getting it wrong and losing her when she’d only just appeared in his life.
“You should have come to me sooner, Abby.”
“Couldn’t get away,” she grunted. “Nothing I haven’t dealt with before. Just takes a little while to heal. Needs air.”
“Right,” he said. He pushed out the fear and anger as best he could. Not anger—something stronger.
Rage. Pure, unadulterated rage. “Who put on the bandages?” he asked.
“I did. The arms healed best when I let ’em air, but that wasn’t easy, since modesty dictates that I—” She dropped her chin to her chest with a huff and spent a few seconds apparently gathering herself before craning her neck to meet his gaze. “It has done me no good at all. And I don’t know how my back could heal while maintaining my modesty. Modesty wasn’t an issue when they…”
She didn’t finish, and in all honesty, Luc didn’t really want her to. If he heard any more about the brands, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. He pictured himself going back to their side of the mountain, his truck plowing straight through the glass double doors fronting that ugly building.
Gathering himself, he soaked a washcloth in the water, wrung it out, and set it on the bandage, covering as much as he could.
Her body tensed. Nothing else.
Luc didn’t know what he’d expected. Histrionics, perhaps? Freaking out from the pain? Instead, she turned her head, and those glowing eyes sought out his face, landing on his lips and lingering a little too long. Somehow, the insane attraction replaced the worry. It was more than just physical, he realized. Here she was practically naked in front of him, and what got to him wasn’t her nudity. It was those eyes.
She nodded. He had no clue why.
“Try now,” she finally whispered, breaking the spell.
“You’ll tell me? If it hurts, I mean?”
Again, she nodded.
He reached for one corner—already unstuck—and pulled.
One of Abby’s hands left the towel in front of her, lifted, sought him out. He grasped it tightly, which made his work more difficult. He sank to his knees on the floor beside her, their faces close enough to share air, their fists shaking with her pain as he teased the once-white cotton from her skin.
About halfway through, the bandage stopped coming off.
He reapplied water, pulled at the other corners, concentrated on the second bandage, and got that almost all the way off. The yellow stains worried him the most. That couldn’t be good, could it? A sure sign of infection.
When had they done this to her? Could he have stopped them?
Yes. Yes, he could have. He could have told her to stay here, with him. He could have offered her a safe place.Madeher stay.
Should have kept Sammy, too.
No, he wouldn’t even think about that. How could he have done it without risking all of their lives?
A glance showed her eyes screwed shut, lovely face tied up in a knot of pain. Her hand convulsed in his, and he squeezed hers back.
