“A claw?”
Sebastian made a huffing sound, and it was so damn cute, I nearly chuckled. His eyes narrowed as though he knew what I was thinking, and I caught the way his lips curled upward, just a smidge.
He used his pointer to tap mine, pressing and releasing as though it was a trigger of some sort.
“Am I… spraying something?”
His eyes brightened, and he let his fingers fall between mine, linking our hands together. The difference in size was almost jarring. I wanted to haul him into my lap and wrap each of his limbs in a layer of protection.
He was safest with me.
“Only you.”
I opened my mouth to tell him that when my jaw snapped closed. My pulse quickened as I considered the last several moments, and I finally understood what he was trying to tell me...
CHAPTERSIX
SEBASTIAN
Vicious.
Someone had sprayed those letters across my locker door in an ugly, jagged pattern. I had to believe they knew how sadistic their color choice was—a thick, crimson red that dripped down the steel in obscure waves. Globs of it had drizzled along the bottom, staining the wooden floorboards and the soles of my shoes.
It was all too reminiscent of the blood that slipped between my fingers that night. The nausea was the same too, searing the walls of my throat. I gagged on vomit as I forced it back down into my stomach, and I felt it curl the same moment my fist did.
There were no thoughts—only anger.
Resentment. Heartache.Grief.
My emotions culminated into an action I’d likely pay for later. The vandalism wouldn’t matter… nor would the pain I felt looking at it. Arthur would take one look at the fist-sized dent I left behind and demand payment—both in bruises and in bucks.
I’d nearly cursed myself, but I was too tired to hold on to regret. I was too tired to hold on toanything. When the pain in my knuckles subsided, I’d succumb to the numbness, and when that eventually faded, indifference would remain.
It was a cycle I was acutely familiar with, and soon, those letters on my locker door wouldn’t matter. My exile would be forgotten, and there’d be something else.Something newthat threatened my heart, tested my breaking point, and chipped at my insides as though they were nothing but stone.
I was tired.
Exhausted, even.
I think Roman felt it. Hell, I think he wanted tofixit, and I wanted to let him… desperately.
The ice pack across my knuckles had since gotten warm, but I didn’t dare move. I liked the way he cradled his palm over mine, protecting my injury as though it was his own.
Roman handled me as if I were constructed of pieces, glued back together in a haphazard pattern that could shatter at any moment. He’d built a suit of armor around me, and I lavished in what it felt like to feel safe… if only for a moment.
The attention he gave me was the kind of thing drugs were made of, intoxicating and easily addictive. I found myself wanting to bathe in it, to paint it across every inch of my skin so I’d still feel it even after I stepped out of this office.
Roman lifted my injured hand, tossing the ice pack aside. His eyes narrowed as he inspected the darkened skin. “Flap your wings for me, baby bird.”
I opened and closed my knuckles.
“Good boy. Any pain?”
I shook my head.
He moved as though he were going to set my hand down.
Nope.