“Would you mind waiting here for a little while? I want to take a shower and would like some time with Louie.”
“Whatever you wish, Aurora. May I use your reading chair and borrow a book while I wait? You have quite the collection.”
Something inside of me is so goddamn pleased when he says that.
“Of course, Ezra. Help yourself. I’ll try to be quick.”
As I walk away, Ezra gently grabs my hand, then softly kisses each knuckle.
“I’ll be here,” he whispers.
“Louie?”
The hellhound trots back to the bathroom as I trail behind her, idly running a finger over my knuckles.
Jesus Christ. I’m in deep fucking trouble.
When I enter the bathroom, the bloody woman in my mirror makes me freeze in horror.
That’s me. I barely recognize myself.
Blood smears my skin, dark and cracked where it’s dried. One eye looks like it bled beneath the surface—red veins spiderwebbing across the white, blooming like fractures in glass.
Blue-black bruises crawl up my throat, each fingerprint sharp as frostbite burned into my skin.
They could have warned me. I look like a zombie extra in a low-budget horror flick.
And Ezra still looked at me like he wanted to devour me.
What the hell is wrong with him?
“Christ, Lou. Why didn’t you tell me I looked like this?”
“Didn’t seem important.”
The hellhound turns in a few circles before curling up on the bathroom floor.
The three of us are going to have a long talk about honesty in the coming days.
But first? I’m going to puke.
I hit the tile hard, throw open the toilet lid, and everything—dinner, the drugs, fear, whatever’s left of my sanity—comes up in hot, violent heaves.
Louie shifts closer with a soft whine, pressing her body to my side like a living shield.
“Are you okay, Aurora? Should I get the billion-year-old thing sitting in our living room for you?”
A broken laugh slips free, sharp and wrong as it echoes off the toilet bowl. I slide back until my spine hits the vanity and let my head hang.
“I need to know, Lou. Can I trust him?”
“Honestly? I don’t know.”
Louie’s body tightens, every muscle primed to defend me, whether the threat ever comes or not. “Did he save your life? Sure. Did he enter our home without your permission? Yep. Was it my fault he did that? Yeah …”
“Wait. Was that the deal you two were fighting over? You allowed him to walk into our home while I was fast asleep? What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking I wanted to keep my fucking life, Aurora! He promised not to harm you and would only touch you with your permission. He kept that promise, right?”
