A horrified gasp raked free when I got a good look at the damage that had been done to his face.
A deep cut was on his temple, and dried blood was smeared across that entire side since he clearly had tried to wipe it away.
Red, inflamed scratches crisscrossed down his arms, and his white tee was tattered and shredded.
“You’re a mess.” I tried to keep the terror out of it.
The chuckle he released was ironic. “You can say that.”
I blew out a breath, trying to keep my crap together when I felt like freaking out again. “You’re lucky you didn’t break something.”
He sent me a wry grin. “Oh, I feel plenty broken.”
My stomach twisted, my gaze hooked on his injuries. I peeked back at the intensity that blazed from his hazel eyes. Eyes that tonight were nothing but yellow flames and fire.
“Are you sure you don’t need an ambulance?”
“I’m sure. You can do it.” There was a message written in the simple words.
A giving.
My nod was quick, and I looked around his bathroom.
It was rustic like the rest of the house. A shower and a freestanding bathtub along the right wall, and the toilet was on the very far side in a little doored alcove.
A long vanity ran the left side of the wall, though it only had one sink and a small mirror in front of it.
Every time I saw it, a blip of sadness rolled through me, though now all my toiletries were scattered on top.
It was clear he had structured his entire life around his solitude. Honestly, I was surprised he even had the extra rooms.
A tangle of nostalgia whisked through me as I thought of what it might mean, the way we’d dreamed of him building us this cabin, then I shoved it off and forced myself to speak. “Is there a first aid kit?”
“Under the sink.”
I shifted away and knelt to retrieve the kit then grabbed a washcloth from the stack in another cabinet.
I set the kit on the counter then turned the faucet to high. I couldn’t tell if I wanted to avert my gaze as I kept peeking at him through the mirror or stare right back the way he was doing.
The man standing right behind me.
His presence profound.
His proximity overwhelming.
The energy coming off him was almost more than I could bear.
The water finally warmed, and I wet the cloth under the fall. I shut off the faucet and wrung out the cloth before I timidly turned back around.
Knowing I was going to get walloped by the severity he exuded.
I inhaled a staggered breath as I fully turned to him.
A battered giant in the confines of the small room.
But it wasn’t only his body. It was his soul that had been so clearly ravaged. Grief and sorrow and shame running from him like a sieve.
“Can you sit on the tub?”
