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Blood.
Thick red blood.
She opened her mouth and screamed.
Chapter Ten
Sig jackknifed straight up, almost tumbling to the floor. His brain spun a little but then slowed enough for him to realize he was on his couch in his dark apartment.
How the fuck he ended up back there, he had no fucking clue.
Last thing he remembered...
Yeah.
Fuck.
He pressed his arm to his bare ribs. What he’d done had aggravated them again.
Goddamn it.
He groaned as he tried to get to his feet. He needed to check on Red.
But fuck, his head...
He only wore his jeans, which were hanging open, his belt nowhere to be found.
Oh fuck.
Fuck.
He must have left it where it fell. He’d have to find it in the daylight.
He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to remember everything that had happened once he grabbed the tequila and escaped The Barn.
Where the fuck was his cut?
He opened his eyes, his temples throbbing, and scanned the dark room.
There. On the stool in front of the counter.
Thank fuck.
A belt, he could deny was his. A cut, not so much.
But, Jesus fuck...
He groaned again as he made his way down the short hallway to the back bedroom, doing his best to walk a straight line.
The tequila was still buzzing through his veins, but not as bad as earlier.
Maybe it was good that it was, otherwise he wasn’t sure how he’d bear the pain of what he did.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
He made it to the bedroom and opened the door. Even in the dark he could see Red asleep on her side.
He went over to the bed, squatted down and whispered, “Hey.” He reached out and ran a knuckle down her cheek, finding it wet.
She was crying.
In her sleep.
Christ.
“Red,” he tried again, afraid to scare her by shaking her. “Red.” He found her hand tangled in the sheet and squeezed it.
Then her eyes opened and she blinked a couple times, her mouth open.
Her fingers intertwined with his, holding on tight. “You’re here.”
“Yeah.”
“You came.”
Of course, he did. “Yeah, Red. You screamed.”
“Sorry.”
What the fuck was going on? “For what?”
She shifted but didn’t sit up. She reached out and stroked her fingers down his beard. “Did I wake you?”
That soft touch made his heart seize. “What fuckin’ happened?”
“I... I had a bad dream.”
No shit. “Yeah, figured that. ‘Bout what?”
“About the woods.”
Sig said nothing. Just those three words took him back to that morning.
“When you found me.”
The change she’d gone through the time between that morning and today... Only a week, but she was almost a different person.
Not completely because she still had a long road to travel.
“Can you go back to sleep?” he asked.
“I need to use the bathroom first.”
No shit. He needed to piss like a racehorse, too. “Want me to help you up?”
“I’m very awkward now.” She almost sounded embarrassed about it.
“There’s a fuckin’ reason for that, Red. You still don’t have all your strength back and you’re...”
“Lopsided.”
“Yeah, that,” he said softly. “Lopsided.”
“Sometimes I feel like I’m going to tip over face first.”
“Not a good idea,” he said simply, helping her to get to her feet.
He was surprised to find that she was wearing only a long T-shirt and nothing else. Nothing else. And the T-shirt didn’t cover her below the hips because the size of her belly wouldn’t let it.
Jesus fuck. She was completely naked except for the shirt. Maybe she was more comfortable like that since she probably lived without clothes for months.
Then he realized it was his shirt she wore. Why wasn’t she wearing the maternity nightie Stella bought her instead?
“You’re wearin’ my shirt,” he said, surprised. But for some fucking reason it also pleased him that she was. That was fucked up. It was only an old shirt.
She glanced down and plucked at it with her fingers. “I... I’m sorry... I’ll put it back.”
She reached for the hem and he stopped her by grabbing her hand and giving it a squeeze. “No, baby, that’s fine. I don’t mind.”
Christ, he just called her “baby.” He had to still be drunk.
“I’m sorry. I... It’s comfortable. It’s soft and it smells like you.”
It smells like you.
He closed his eyes for a moment.
What the fuck.
What the fuck.
What the fuck!
“Probably needs washed, then,” he quickly said. “Can wear whatever you want of mine, Red, don’t worry about it.”
Plenty of women had worn one of his T-shirts. Usually after sex. But there was something different about Red wearing one.
Totally fucking different.
What the fuck was going on? He had to be still pickled by all the tequila, that was all.
Or maybe he was still high from the pain. From...
Fuck.
Not now. Not now. Not now.
Never again. He needed to find another way.
He followed her to the bathroom, making sure she made it okay. When he got there, he held onto the door jamb to keep himself steady. “Do your thing, then I’ll help you back to bed.” Or at least, make sure you get there since I might not be much fuckin’ help.
