Page 75 of Good Girl

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“Doesn’t really do it justice,” Brendan said, shaking his head. “It was the most fucking intense thing I’ve ever been through. Thought my eyes would boil in their sockets from watching the two of you. It was like slipping through the veil and seeing the Fair Folk my nan always used to go on about or something. There’s no way you could be human.”

Rhys jerked back at those words like he’d been slapped, throwing the blankets back and stomping over to pull the plug for the TV from the power point. He just stared at the black screen for a second, then turned part of the way towards us.

“What are you doing here?”

He didn’t specify who, which made sense, I guessed. I emerged from the bed, the weight of the blankets somewhat comforting, but today wasn’t going to be comforting.

“You’re hurting,” I said.

“No fucking shit. Doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

“No,” I said more clearly. “You are hurting physically. What happened?”

He wouldn’t answer me, just staring mulishly at the space on the floor between us all until I hissed out a breath and took a step forward. He jerked backwards until I put my hands up.

“What would you do if I were standing here hurting?” I asked.

“Smash whoever hurt you into oblivion,” Rhys replied without a thought. “Wouldn’t be enough of them to put in a teacup.”

“And me? What would you do for me?”

That was hard to get out, because I was afraid of what he would say. I was also afraid of what he wouldn’t, but this was my mate, we had a problem, and I was done waiting around for a solution. I was going to be a part of it, even if just to work out a way to sever the bond.

He watched me for a few heartbeats, scanning my body as if to make sure there was no evidence of injury there. When I moved closer, he didn’t flinch away this time, the gap between us slowly eroding, until finally, there I was—a small omega in front of a massive alpha, asking him to not be the manipulative fuck that used her to ensure his pack’s safety. But that would come later. I reached for the hem of the thermal he was wearing, heard his hiss as I lifted it, and found something much worse than I’d expected.

“Jesus, Rhys…” Bren growled, at our side in three strides, front and centre for the big reveal.

Rhys’ skin was no longer pale and marked by his tattoos. Instead, someone had applied their own marks. Bruises blossomed everywhere in every shade, from the darkest black to red, purple, and blue, to a sickening yellow. Dried blood crusted some, it was hard to tell. Whoever had worked him over had done it so thoroughly, they’d not left any part of him unmarked. Rhys winced when we tried to pull the shirt off, Bren growling, grabbing the back of it and ripping it down the back, allowing it to be eased off over his arms. He was thinner, having lost condition, the muscles clearly outlined with almost desperate definition. One last cry as Rhys did his best to obliterate himself.

“Let’s get him into the shower,” I said crisply.

“No,” the man himself replied.

“If you don’t want us to, we won’t,” I said.

“I don’t.”

“Look me in the eyes and say that, Rhys.”

I bent down slightly, watching his eyes roll up, meeting mine, something I instantly regretted. Looking into an alpha’s had always been physically painful, but now it was just emotionally so.

It had felt like no one around me understood the pain I was in. Mum hadn’t mated with my father. They’d been coasting along when she got pregnant with me, and they’d stayed together for a while until he didn’t want to anymore. Kai and George were both unmated, my psychologist’s status unknown to me. Even Bren didn’t get it. He’d had happy years with Rhys, whereas I only had hours before it was all ripped away from me. But as I stared at Rhys, I saw a perfect mirror of that pain, one that only we shared. Which is why I did what came next, or so I told myself.

“Get him in the shower,” I said to Brendan.

“No,” Rhys replied.

“Fuck you, mate,” Brendan said with a snap. “If I’m gonna follow anyone’s orders now, it’s hers. You gotta problem with that?” They stared at each other for a moment. “Didn’t think so. Team Cyn all the fucking way. It’s the right one to be on, y’know. You could switch.”

Rhys snorted at that, then pulled away.

“I don’t need you to help me shower.”

“Yeah?” I replied. “Lift your arms above your head, like you were gonna wash your armpits.” He moved his arms but didn’t get far, whichever of the many injuries hurting him causing the muscles to seize. “In the shower, and try not to make a big song and dance act about it. It doesn’t have to mean anything. We’re just helping you out.”

That had his head jerking up again, that same mule stubborn look on his face. His jaw tightened, the muscle flexing there, before he nodded.

We followed him into the en suite bathroom, helped him strip down, and got under the water when the problems soon became apparent.


Tags: Sam Hall Fantasy