The shame loosened my grip on her, and when the disgust bubbled over me, I tried to bring my focus back to something I could fix. Looking at the twisted mark on her side was better than looking into her eyes. At least that way, I wouldn’t have to think about how perfect she would have looked with my cock on her tongue, how beautiful she would have sounded as I pushed my way into her tight body. But as my attention snapped up to her, even that died. The eyes that looked out at me this time were the same eyes I’d been dreaming of. She was watching me, and when I wasn’t sure I was ready to let her see the pieces she left behind, my eyes fell back to her side. A gentle touch applied ointment, and her skin shivered.
“I don’t remember anything.”
“Think harder.” The snarl slammed her lips shut. She wouldn’t answer me— but then, maybe she couldn’t. “The cops think someone did this.”
“I don’t—” Her muscles tensed, and my gaze travelled back up her body. Birdie’s eyes stayed the shower ahead. “I saw a deer.”
“Or you saw a person.” Her jaw stiffened, her eyes glazed, and I fell back into my work. “Your boyfriend wants to press new charges, and he can’t do that if you’re still alive.”
This, of all the violence, caused her to recoil.
“Josh wouldn’t do this,” she hissed. “No, I saw a deer. Josh probably hasn’t thought about me in years. He’s a nice guy.”
Whatever kindness those eyes brought was gone in a flash— nothing could smother that disgusting rot for long. My fingers twitched as I tried to swallow them, but when memories of that night crawled back into my head, I straightened up. Finally, a condescending chuckle pulled her eyes off of the wall ahead.
“A nice guy? Are you fucking kidding me?” Her shoulders sank, and her attention shifted again. “You’re gonna sit here and act like the guy who’s willing to rape you isn’t willing to murder you?”
“You don’t know that.” Anger forced her to straighten, and when she couldn’t meet my gaze, she let her eyes wander her body. “You don’t know he would have done anything,” she whispered, examining the wound at her side, the marksItreated. “I could have talked to him if you hadn’t—”
“Saved you?” Her head snapped back, but barred teeth loosened when those golden eyes scanned my features. When she noticed my raised hackles, when she smelled my thirst for blood, her head bowed. “Isaved you. Got it? If I hadn’t’ve been there, that sick fuck would have—”
I wouldn’t say it.
I wouldn’t finish the thought— not when the fear spent so long tearing me apart.
I saved her. And if I needed to, I would save her again. I didn’t need anyone to convince me otherwise. If I hadn’t’ve followed her to the party that night, if I hadn’t’ve been watching her, she would have lost everything. He would have torn her clothes off her without the care I had, wouldn’t have felt the guilt that kept me awake every night, wouldn’t have made her cum the way I could. I didn’t need Birdie to convince me of the only kindness I’d ever done in my life. Isavedher, and in the woods, I saved her again.
She’s always been mine to protect.
And whether she wanted it or not, I’d protect her again.
She wouldn’t react until I pulled away completely. Though, maybe that was only because she noticed the change. There was no care in the way I bandaged her side, my name falling beneath her grunts of pain. “Michael.” Even then, this thing blocked her voice out. As I slammed the first aid kit closed, as I made my way out of the bathroom, the injured bird trailed after me.
“Where are you going?”
Now she cares?
Anger locked my jaw, and as this thing darkened my vision, I set my sights on the medication lining her table. I could barely see as I stuffed the pill bottles into my pockets, could barely hear as this thing hissed in my ear. If she wasn’t going to acknowledge the help I’d given her, then I was done giving her breaks. If she didn’t want to admit what I’d done for her, for both of us, then the pain of an unmedicated wound might help her remember.
I saved her.
I saved her twice and she doesn’t even give a shit.
“Please don’t leave me here,” she choked. “If you just let me talk to them—”
“I don’t give a shit.” The snarl was hardly recognizable as I made my way to the door. “I should have left you in the fucking woods.”
The sobs that filled the room that night were the same ones that had haunted me for years. They were the same prayers for help that came when my fists slammed down into him, when my barred teeth turned towards the little bird. They were the tears that would stay with me for the rest of my life.
Just tears and rot.