Page 36 of Ballrooms & Blackmail

His hand slides from my cheek, down my arm, looping around my waist, banding around me?—

Pain slices through me and I whimper.

Immediately, he releases me, steps back.

Dammit.

I open my mouth to explain. He couldn’t have known about the bruises on my ribs. He didn’t mean to hurt me.

But one look at his eyes and I know he’s not going to listen.

And that feels…

God, that feels like shit.

“I’ll bring you in a first aid kit,” he says quietly. “Get that cut bandaged. Then,” he adds, his gaze sliding away from mine, guilt clearly riding him hard, “you should rest.”

The words are reasonable.

And I fucking hate them.

But Thorn doesn’t take them back.

Instead, he spins on his heel and disappears.

Twelve

River

I wake up disoriented.

For one terrifying second, I don’t know where I am.

I just know I’m not in my apartment.

The mattress beneath me is too soft. The room too large. The air too quiet.

Then memories crash back in all at once and I sit upright too fast, the slightly unfamiliar guest room spinning slightly around me.

When was the last time I ate?

It’s light out, the sky bright with afternoon sunshine and I’m stiff, as though I’ve slept for hours.

Well, that and the bruises littering my body.

I lift a hand gently to my cheek and wince.

The cut hadn’t needed stitches, but I am sporting a lovely bandage, and will be doing so for a few days.

Not the first time.

Hopefully the last.

I exhale quietly and push the covers back.

Movement near the foot of the bed makes me freeze, my heart skipping a beat—at least until Violet pokes her head out of the tangle of blankets, stretching dramatically before trotting toward me on tiny, determined paws.

“Hi, adorable girl,” I whisper.