“I’m sorry. Maybe you’re right and we should—”
“Don’t be sorry. Now come on, or we’ll be those idiots that stand around talking for an hour just waiting for the enemy to creep up.”
They hop on the bike and peel down a worn path. The revving engine wakes the others, who fly out of the house as they pass it, giving chase.
Once the dirt turns to paved road, Wade kicks it up, leaving anything behind them in their dust. They put at least fifty miles and a dozen turns between them and that mess before pulling into a secluded house overgrown with ivy.
Luckily, there’s no one to fight or put down this time. The first order of business is checking her injury, and he urges Kara into a bathroom, opening the first aid kit he grabbed from the bike.
“Can I see?” He gestures to her red soaked stomach, the sight of all that blood momentarily shocking him.
She lets him pull away the fabric to reveal a scrape that decided to bleed like a puncture. She was right, it’s not that bad, but tetanus still happens, so they ain’t taking any chances. He cleans it, something she could do herself, but he wants to take care of her for once and she seems to want to let him.
It’s not the cut that’s got his attention now. It’s the other long-healed wound beside it. She is full of secrets every time he pulls back a new layer.
“How’d you get this?” he whispers, one finger gently tracing the long scar below her ribs.
He hasn’t been given the privilege of knowing everything etched into her skin. This could have been earned long before the turn, but something tells him that’s not the case.
“I got stabbed.”
His brows shoot up, his tone angry. “What the hell? When?”
“It doesn’t matter. Really. It was so long ago, there’s nothing to be done about it now. There are endless ways to suffer the wrong end of a knife in this world. I’m quite sure they’re already dead.”
She’s right, of course. Whatever revenge he wants on her behalf was likely already delivered before he even knew, but that doesn’t stop his rage at the thought of anyone hurting her.
Her hands move to her belt buckle, unfastening it before dragging down the zipper. “I wanna tell you everything, though.”
Wade watches dumbfounded as she shoves her jeans down to her knees, revealing a pair of black underwear and a very distinct bullet mark on her thigh.
All his emotions tangle and twirl together in a thick cluster that has him reeling, uncertain which direction to go in, until she gently takes his hand and places it over that wound he’s just learned existed.
“I got this a few months after I lost you.”
“Shoulda been there to keep you safe.” His fingers fan out, and his thumb brushes softly against the evidence of what’s been done to her.
“That’s not why I’m showing you now. I just don’t want there to be any secrets between us. Not that this was even a secret, it wasn’t.”
They’re standing in a tiny bathroom with his hand on her naked thigh and her pants half off. Maybe that catches up to herbecause her palm holding him there drops away and she tugs them back up, the clink of the buckle echoing obscenely.
“I’m sorry this happened to you, and I’m still sorry I wasn’t there.”
She smiles in a self-deprecating sort of way, raising her brows like he’s delusional for saying such a thing. “All this time, that’s all I’ve been thinking about you. That I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”
“Kara…”
The two of them are experts at claiming blame they haven’t earned. It would almost be comical if it wasn’t so damn sad.
“There’s, um…there is something else, though,” she continues.
“Like this? Someone else hurt you?”
“No. I hurt them. I hurt a lot of people. I hurt one person specifically in the worst way.”
He doesn’t understand.
“I thought time might make it feel less heavy, but turns out it doesn’t always work like that. I promise I’ll tell you everything eventually. I just need to work up to it.”
