It doesn’t steady me at all. If anything, the mark I left on her, her sweet pain, they only push me closer to the edge.
“Fuck.” I straighten and start scrubbing her back.
Time goes by until finally, she sucks in a deep breath.
“So, Knox, are you going to do something…” How she can sound brave and shaky at the same time is beyond me. This mystery,her, I’m dying to unravel it. “Elselater? Like check on Bronwyn? For my parents. So I know to tell them if she’s dead or not when we’re out of here.”
My brow furrows. She was teasing me a second ago, and now she’s asking about Bronwyn? Hmm. Has to be the confusion talking.
Or it’s that dark thing I see growing in her. How she maybe hopes Bronwyn is dead.
She isn’t. My family would’ve dropped her off if she were.
Anyway. Whatever Skylar’s reason is, the answer is no.
“Bronwyn can go to hell.”Scrub, scrub, scrub. “You can tell your parents that too.”
“Couldn’t I at least tell her how much she’s hurt me?” Her voice rises, breaking. “Knox, don’t let them kill her before I get my closure.”
That reasoning is far more acceptable than I initially thought. Still. “No talking to her or about her.”
“Please…”
“Shut up.”
“I don’t want to forgive her.” Skylar looks over her shoulder, her green eyes honest. Gorgeous. Sad. “I’m not manipulating you into letting me see her because I love her. It’s really not about that. I swear.”
“No.” But my conviction weakens. I want to give her everything, just not that.
“I deserve to face her. I’m the victim here,” she says, moaning as I slide the cloth between her ass cheeks, water trickling down her crack. “I’ve earned that right. Why shouldn’t I have that?”
It wounds me that even with her thighs trembling and clenching with need, she still talks about her sister.
“She’s going to die. That’s what she deserves.” I drop to my knees, steady hands working her bandage with care. “End of story. Forget about her.”
“Please…” She doesn’t take her pleading eyes off me.
My heart pounds against my ribs, my blood hot in my veins.
“You want to join her?” The irrational anger turns me into a true monster. I scowl at her, saying, “Is that it?”
“No.” Her eyebrows fly up.
“Look.” I toss the washcloth on the table. Grab a new one furiously, dipping it in the bowl. “I want you.”
“You do.” Skylar’s shoulders are tense as I drench them in water, as I clean up what’s left of the soap. “I-I want you too.”
“And I have a plan. One that doesn’t involve absolving her or facing her.” I crowd her space, resolve banging. “One that doesn’t involve her at all.”
“I need that closure. Need that off my chest.” Her voice trembles but doesn’t break. “Stop being stubborn. What I tell her won’t change a thing between us.”
“Nothing good will come from talking to her. She’ll just find more ways to hurt you.” Abusers will be abusers; she has to know that. “I know her kind.”
“I won’t let her.”
As I clean the suds off her skin, my mind drifts to my brother. He’s evil in the same way. Some people don’t change. They don’t regret a single thing.
“She’s dead to you.” I wind my hand in her hair, tugging. “No one hurts what’s mine. Understand? Now be quiet.”
