I heard the echo of my whimper as tears ran down my cheeks, my chest tight as I collapsed onto the bed.
I hated this.
I hated me.
What was wrong with me?
25
BETH
I could feel the pulse. I could hear it breathing.
My wrist was itching. I had scratched and pinched at the skin but it just wouldn’t stop. No matter how my fingers pressed into the jagged lines, relief never came. Something was trapped beneath the scars, buried deep beneath layers of flesh, and no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t reach it.
It was driving me insane.
Perhaps I needed something else, something with the precision and edge my nails didn’t have. Something that could lift the first layer of skin, the second layer, carve out the third, fourth, fifth, until I could dig it out, bleed it out, that dangerously wrong thing clawing its way inside me.
I needed something that would bleed out whatever he’d spilled inside me.
I didn’t hear the bathroom door open. Didn’t hear the footsteps approaching, or the sound of my name on familiar lips. All I felt was a shadow standing next to me, then smelt citrus and sunshine.
My heart punched out of my chest. I quickly buried the hand under the foam surrounding me in the porcelain bath.
“What are you doing?” The voice demanded, not harshly, just cautiously.
“Just…” I took in a sharp, broken breath, and through my peripheral vision, caught the shadow of Kenzo proceed to sit beside me on the edge of the luxury bathtub. “…having a bath.”
“Why?” His tone was still wary, and even without lifting my head, I could feel his ever perceptive eyes searching my face for any lie hidden behind the smile I had forced onto my lips.
“I wanted to.” I lifted my shoulder in a half shrug.
“But you already showered before, Beth.” He pointed out, tone mildly accusing. “Asked me to pick between the pink, floral sundress and the silk skirt with grey button top.”
“Yes.” My head moved before my lips could. “I just wanted to…shower again.” I propped up my knees, pulled my arms from under the water, wrapping them around leg.
“Was it because of that?” he asked, his tone dropping to a near whisper.
“Because of what?” My brows pulled together, and I finally lifted my head.
But his gaze wasn’t on my face anymore. It was lower.
His eyes were fixed on my chest, on the ugly, crooked marks, the deep impressionshisteeth had left on the soft skin around my breasts.
I wanted to cover myself. I wanted to hide my shame.
“And that?” Kenzo’s head tilted to the left, his chin nodding at the spot on the side of my neck, below my ear, stretching to my collarbone.
That part was worse. It was red. The cuts, though tiny, were deep, like he’d tried to etch something into me one bite after another.
“Is he like what, a vampire or something?” I searched for irritation or anger in his voice but couldn’t find neither, just…curiosity. “A wolf? He’s quite…wild.”
I didn’t utter a word, still. I didn’t know what to say.
“Was he why you disappeared for hours?” he asked softly, his eyes moving from me to the bath, hand scooping foam just to crush it again between his palm. “I’ve been searching for you.”
“Yeah.” I squeezed my eyes shut to block out the memories threatening to surface, break off the chain dragging his shadow into the room one wild heartbeat at a time.
