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I allow him to pull the plank with the nail from my foot and shoe. The pain reverses, a new kind of fire setting in the minute the nail slips out of my flesh. Warm, sticky wetness coats my sock inside my shoe.
“Man,” the guy says, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left the plank lying here. I was just dropping a bag of cement. I was going to move it in a sec, I swear, but you were on me so fast.”
I test putting my weight on my foot. Mm. That’s going to take a while.
“You need a tetanus shot,” the man says. “The nail doesn’t look rusted, but—”
“I know.” I jerk away, freeing myself from his hand that’s back on my elbow.
“Are you going to sue?” he asks, squinting at me as he scratches his head.
“No.”
His face relaxes. “Look man, for what’s it’s worth, I’m really sorry. Better watch where you’re going next time.”
I shift my laptop bag to my other shoulder to relieve the pressure on my foot and get into the man’s space. “You better watch where you leave your material.”
When he cringes away from me, I take satisfaction from his fear. He’s my size, but he senses the darkness in me. It’s a darkness that doesn’t fight fairly.
The power shift feeds my soul. Abated, I turn away from him and limp on my way. With every step I take, I recall how Zoe looked when she stepped into a shard of glass and cut her heel.
Her wound has long since healed.
Mine is just beginning.
Chapter 27
Zoe
The very next day, I find a female gynecologist in town through an internet search and make an appointment for a birth control shot. That same night, Maxime comes home with an injured foot. He pulls off a blood-soaked sock to reveal a ghastly wound. The nail that went through his shoe penetrated his foot so deeply the point pushed through the skin at the top. He’s lucky the bleeding stopped so quickly. When I urge him to see Dr. Olivier, he brushes my concerns away, telling me he’s injected himself with a tetanus shot at the office.
“Maxime,” I say, kneeling next to him in the bathroom where he’s bathing his foot in a tub of Betadine. “You better go see the doctor.”
His gaze tightens on me even as his lips tilt with a slight smile. “Worried?”
“Of course I am.” I point at his foot. “That looks really bad.”
“Why?” he asks, his eyes not leaving mine as he rolls his pants up to the knee.
I sit back on my haunches. “Why what?”
“Why are you concerned?”
I blink. “It’s normal.”
He rests an arm on one knee, leaning closer to me. “Is it?”
Confusion rages inside my chest. Doesn’t he get it? Aghast, I say, “It’s called compassion.”
“Ah.” He sits back, creating distance between us. “In other words, your concern isn’t because you care.”
About me.
He doesn’t say it, but we both know it’s what he means.
“What do you expect me to say?” I whisper.
“Nothing.” His voice sounds harsher despite the fact that he speaks in a softer tone. “I expect nothing.”
I motion to his injury. “Shall I—”
“Leave.” He gives me a flat look. “You should leave before I ask you to touch me in a way that has nothing to do with treating my wound.”
I gape at him. “You can’t seriously be thinking about sex right now.”
“If I give you a choice between pulling down your panties under that skirt and straddling my cock or walking through the door, what will you choose?”
Taken aback, I continue to stare at the rough contours of his face. The old me would’ve never left anyone with such an injury, but living with Maxime has hardened me. The sight of blood still makes me queasy, but I’m also growing desensitized to it.
“That’s what I thought,” he says. “You put up a good show for your brother.”
Anger replaces my concern. Straightening, I ball my fists. “What did you expect? Do you think I want you and my brother to go to war? Who will survive, huh? Tell me who’ll win.”
He continues to stare at me with his cool gaze. “I’d say it’s fifty-fifty.”
“Exactly.” I look down at him with all the loathing I’m capable of mustering from my soul. “I’m not risking my brother. He did nothing to deserve it.”
“Go, then, pretty little flower.” His smile turns mocking. “Run.”
I don’t let him tell me twice. I turn my back on him and leave while I can, slamming the door on my way out. On the other side, I lean against the wood to drag in a few deep breaths and settle my trembling heart.
This new road we’re heading down, I have no idea where it’s going.
Maxime acts aloof in the day that follows, but I have something else on my mind. Luckily, I only have to wait two days for my doctor’s appointment. The gynecologist was willing to squeeze me in between patients. I don’t tell Maxime about the scheduled visit. I go during the day when he’s at work, knowing no one is following me like before. Maxime will still be able to track my whereabouts via my phone, but he got used to me moving around freely in town to do grocery shopping and window-shopping for supplies. As long as I don’t run, he’s no longer checking up on me.
