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Her trust of him was now a little shaky. Her disappointment in him now not shaky at all.
She kept her eyes glued to the TV, not really seeing the program. Not seeing anything as the door opened and Sig stepped into the apartment, closing it behind him. But not locking it.
The tension in her chest loosened a notch.
She kept her gaze straight ahead as he moved through her line of vision to the kitchenette, shrugged out of his cut and hung it over the back of one of the stools at the counter.
“You eat?” he asked in a hoarse voice.
She thought about not answering but didn’t want to be rude. Not like he was when he had locked her in and disappeared. “Yes. You?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he came back to the couch where she was. As he sat, the cushions sank with his weight and, with a groan, he bent over and began to unlace his left boot.
That was when she noticed the bandaging on his right hand.
Had she caused that? “I shouldn’t have pushed you last night. I’m sorry.”
He lifted his wrapped hand for a second like he had to think about it, then went back to slowly unlacing his other boot. “Wasn’t you, Red. Was nothin’ you’d done. This was on me.”
“Like your back?”
“Yeah. Like that.”
Once his boots were unlaced, he kicked them off and yanked off his socks, dropping them onto the floor.
Then he simply sat there, staring straight ahead the same as her.
Neither of them said a word for a few stilted minutes.
However, she needed to say something. It was her fault if he’d lost control and hurt himself. “I shouldn’t have asked you to touch me when I knew I couldn’t let you do more than that.”
“Wasn’t it, Red. Liked touchin’ you. But won’t lie, wanted more.” He turned his head toward her. “A lot more.”
“Me, too,” she whispered.
His lips became a slash and his nostrils flared slightly. He nodded. “Yeah. Maybe we’ll get there. Maybe we won’t.”
“I don’t want you to suffer. It’s best I move in with the Brysons. I’ve been thinking about it all morning. I’m nothing to you, there’s no reason you should be put out because of me. You shouldn’t have to take care of me. I’m not your responsibility. And you should be sleeping in your own bed, not forced to sleep on the couch.”
“Ain’t movin’ in with the Brysons, Red, and you ain’t puttin’ me out. Just get that outta your head.”
“You said it was my decision.”
“It is.”
“Then that’s what I want.”
“No, it ain’t.”
She furrowed her brow. “I just said it was.”
He leaned back to dig his hand into the front pocket of his jeans, pulled out something metal and held it out to her.
A key.
He was giving her a key. She would never be locked in again.
“You’re safer here than there. But don’t want you to feel like you have no choice. You already had too much choice taken away from you. Don’t wanna be someone who did that to you, too.”
“You said it was for my safety.”
He nodded. “It is. So, you need to fuckin’ promise me that door,” he pointed to it, “is locked at all fuckin’ times when you’re in here alone. Understood?”
“Yes.”
He held out his uninjured hand, the key in the center of his open palm. “Now, you wanna go live with the Brysons for the next coupla months? Or you wanna stay with us?”
She didn’t miss the tremor in that hand. She also didn’t miss that he was handing her her freedom.
Her freedom of choice.
She reached out and, as she went to pluck the key from his palm, his fingers curled around hers. Using their clasped hands, he tugged her closer and his brown eyes were darker than normal as they held hers. “Want that key?”
Her voice trembled just slightly when she answered, “Yes.”
Something moved behind his eyes at her answer. Relief, maybe. With a mix of something else she didn’t recognize.
“Thank you,” she whispered as he leaned in, his lips just a hairsbreadth from hers.
“Welcome, baby. Now... It all right to kiss you?”
“Yes,” she breathed as his lips closed in, brushing lightly over hers.
She opened her mouth, letting him in to explore.
This morning he tasted of only tobacco and not of pot and alcohol.
When he broke the kiss, he released her hand and gripped her cheek, brushing his thumb back and forth over it. “Need to talk.”
She dropped her hands into her lap because if it was up to her, they’d spend the rest of the morning kissing and not talking.
“Gonna explain some shit about me. Why I do some of the shit I do. Can’t explain everything because it’s way too much. Would take weeks to do it, anyway. But I’m gonna give you a bit of me so you can gimme a bit of you. Deal?”
