Once inside, he was halfway to the stairs when Steel and Rose approached.
“Everything okay?” Steel asked.
“You really have to ask?” Rose said as she smiled over at them. “See how she looks at him? They’re okay. Better than okay.”
Better than okay.
Those words repeated themselves in his mind as he carried Cassandra up the stairs. There was no way he was taking her to the room she’d been using. If they were doing this, then she was staying with him in his bed from here on out.
In his room, he headed straight for the attached bathroom, setting Cassandra down on the counter while he ran her a bath. He didn't have any girly products to use, but he’d move all of her things up tomorrow.
Tonight, though, he was taking care of his little rabbit.
While the bath filled, he pulled out his first aid kit from under the sink, already running through everything he needed to do. Clean her wounds, bathe her, put her in his clothes, and then in his bed. Feed her, make sure she drank enough water, then tuck her under the covers and hold her while she slept.
The expression on his little rabbit’s face was soft and warm as he took one of her hands in his and began to clean away the blood from the ragged wounds on her wrists. They would heal, likely not even leave scars, although he had a feeling that if they did, Cassandra would wear those scars like badges of honor.
“Thank you,” she whispered as he set the supplies aside, ready to add antibiotic ointment and bandages after the bath.
“For what? Taking care of you?”
“Not everybody does that,” she told him, making him growl.
“Later, you’ll tell me who didn't perform adequate aftercare, and I’ll make sure I teach them a lesson about how we treat people.”
Cassandra laughed. “You can't kill someone just because they didn't take care of me afterward.”
“I can, and I will,” he corrected as he stripped off her clothes and set her in the bath. Moving to the shower, he grabbed his shampoo and then knelt by the bath, pouring a generous amount into the palm of his hand, and then massaged it into her long locks.
Giving a contented sigh, Cassandra slipped further under the water as he worked the shampoo through her hair. Taking care of her like this eased old hurts. There had never been anyone who had taken care of him when he was a child, he’d been taught to be independent from the youngest age, and he’d worried he had never learned these skills.
Before, it had never mattered. Who had been around for him to take care of?
Other than his team, and the way he cared for them was keeping his anger on a leash and watching their backs, there hadn't been anyone else.
Now there was.
And whether he possessed the right skills to care for his little rabbit or not, he was going to do his best to show her that he could give her everything she needed, and pray it was enough.
January 9th
9:27 A.M.
As she sat watching the guys tap away on keyboards, stare at screens, and scroll through intel, Cassandra kept fiddling with the bandages taped around her wrists.
Every time she looked at them, she got butterflies in her stomach.
Not only had Dragon given her perfect, rough, leave-behind bruises and make her skin bleed sex, but he’d also provided her with the sweetest aftercare. The bath, the tender way he cleaned her wounds, how he shampooed her hair and smoothed out every tangle. Even though she’d told him she didn't need to, he insisted she take some painkillers, and he’d dressed her in his clothes and tucked her into his bed like she was the most precious thing in the world.
It was different than treating her like she was breakable, and she’d felt cared for and protected as he brought up more food than the two of them could ever hope to eat, even with Dragon’s appetite. They’d gone to bed early, and she’d easily fallen asleep in his arms.
Perfect.
There was no other way to describe it. It was everything she ever could have hoped for. There wasn't a single box that she could have had on her list that he hadn't ticked off. Even down to his lack of judgment and assurances that her need for rough sex didn't mean she should be punished in light of the revelation about her mom.
The only thing she wasn't sure of was what happened next.
This morning, Dragon had still been attentive. Checking in with her on how she was feeling, where she was hurting, insisting on more painkillers even though it really wasn't necessary, and cleaning and rebandaging her wounds even though the cuts from the zip ties were nothing serious and would heal on their own without any attention.
