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Pushing her hands into my chest, she tries hard to shove herself from my hold. But it’s too late. I feel it. Whatever it is she’s trying to hide with that sexy little blue wrap, I feel it. The raised scar that spans across her ass.
What. The. Fuck?
“Let me go, Tav.”
“What—”
“I said let me go!” she yells. At the panic that lashes from her tongue like a whip, at the very real fear in her blue eyes, I let my hands fall away as she launches off my chest to swim again for the other side of the pool. For escape.
I stand dumbly for a solid five seconds, watching as she pushes herself up over the ledge of the pool before icy understanding kicks in.
All the times she alluded to being hurt by Remira.
Neveah’s words replay in my mind. “She’s been hurt.”
Someone hurt Olympia. Someone hurt my girl.
And I want to know who the fuck dared to touch her in such a way they left a lasting mark.
She’s running across the patio stones, Kane’s deep voice asking, “What the fuck?” as Ian says, “Shit.”
And then I’m kicked into gear, following hot on her trail as Nevaeh cries, “Gentle, Tav.”
Gentle is the last thing I’m thinking as I chase, hunt, track her through my house. Rage and frustration and worry swarm my chest, spearing like daggers through my heart. She hits the guest bathroom and my open palm cracks hard against the door she tries to slam closed between us. I shove inside the small room with her, watching as tears swim in her blue eyes. Her arms fold around her body, as though she’s trying to make herself small—trying to make herself unseen—from me.
I close and lock the door behind me, my eyes never shifting away from her as she shoves her back into the wall, her shoulders curving inward, chin quivering even though she hasn’t let a single tear fall.
“Show me,” I demand, my voice dangerously quiet.
She shakes her head. “Please don’t do this.”
“Show me, Olympia.”
She stomps a foot. “It’s nothing.”
I crowd her, my chest heaving with every sharp inhale. “You can show me, or I’ll look for myself.”
“Tav,” the way she whimpers my name has a little of the hard inside me softening, even as the anger surges. My eyes drift over her body, and I see she’s trembling. She’s trembling so hard, I realize, her teeth are clapping together.
How had I missed it? The panic that’s threatening to pull her under, to drown her in her trauma.
“Fuck, baby.” My worry for her has my anger taking a back seat as I pull her to my chest, wrapping my arms around her small body as a sob breaks into the silence between us. She’s shivering so hard now, fear spikes inside my chest.
I maneuver to the shower with her in my arms, turning on the water. I can feel her tears against my chest now as she breaks apart in my arms. I hold her tighter, determined to keep the pieces of her from shattering around us. When steam fills the room, I grip her under her thighs once more and lift, commanding, “Legs around me, baby.”
She complies, burying her face into the crook of my neck as I step into the water. I hold her there under the warmth spewing from the shower head as she cries in my arms. It feels like forever as she breaks apart in my arms, and all I want to do is build her back up. I want that fire and sass back. I want the strength I see in her innocent eyes. Fuck, I just want my girl back.
“Princess?” I call when her body stops shivering, and the sound of her sobs die against my neck. She has yet to lift her head or try to push away from me. I haven’t moved my hands from her thighs.
“I’m so ashamed.” Her voice is so small. So broken.
Anger sparks in my chest. “You have nothing to be ashamed of.”
“I didn’t want you to see. To know.”
“Talk to me,” I beg.
“You don’t believe me.” She shakes her head against my neck. I want to kick my own ass.
