Page 26 of Resisting Blue


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"Do what?" she says, pushing harder.

I lunge into the seat next to her and grab her hand. "Don't."

She gasps, her mouth open, hot breath too close to mine.

My nerves rattle higher. I glance at the half-covered mark and soften my tone. "Show me your injury."

"Why?"

"I need to see it," I say, but even in my mind it doesn't sound professional.

Her mouth twists. She moves my hand to her thigh and pushes the soft material up to her waist, displaying crotchless red panties.

"Fuck," I mutter and realize I said it out loud.

"It's here," she says, smirking, and slides my finger from the top of her inner thigh to the bruise.

Time stops. I stare at my finger, over her exposed creamy skin, darkened with purple and sickly yellow. Under it is a thin line. It's angry red, scabbed at one end, and runs horizontally.

A sound leaves my chest before I can stop it. "Blue."

Her gaze stays on mine, pretending she doesn't understand. "Yes?"

"Did you do this?"

She slides her hand over my fingers. Her eyes widen, the picture of innocence. "What?"

"The bruise and the cut," I clarify, forcing each word to come out calmly.

She glances down like she has just now discovered it. "Oh."

My irritation spikes. "Do not insult my intelligence."

Her attention snaps back up. For the first time since she walked in, her performance cracks. Something more raw flashes through her expression. It's anger, shame, and triumph, all braided together.

"You saw it. Good," she says, voice quieter.

"Good?" My tone sharpens. "Help me understand what about that injury qualifies as good to you."

Her throat moves. "It means you noticed."

Blood pounds in my ears. "You wanted me to notice."

"Yes."

"Notice what?" I ask.

Her lashes sweep down, then up. Silence answers before she does.

"Blue, tell me," I press, more firmly.

Her chest rises and falls faster.

"There isn't a wide range of options. It's either an accident or deliberate self-harm. Which one is it?" I demand.

She lifts her chin, some stubborn part of her finally meeting me without theatrics. "Both."

"That is not an answer."