“That’s a good girl.” He holds my gaze, his expression serious. “Now, listen to me very carefully. I willnever,under anycircumstances, raise a hand to you. There is not a single reason I would ever physically hurt you. Do you understand?”
I nod.
“I need to hear you say it, Princess.”
“I understand,” I whisper.
“Good girl.” Knox leans in and presses a kiss to my forehead, lingering there as if he’s trying to gather himself. I soak in the gentle pressure, trying not to fall into the negative thoughts that are beating against my brain. I repeat my mantras instead.
My triggers are normal.
They are my body’s way of trying to survive.
I am proud of my body for keeping me safe.
I am proud of myself.
I am okay.
I am safe.
I am safe.
I am safe.
When I open my eyes and find Knox’s dark gaze ensuring I’m okay, I realize I truly am safe with him.
CHAPTER 28
Knox
No matter how many deep breaths I take, my anger is coursing through me like a raging thunderstorm.
It took more willpower than I knew I possessed to keep the anger off my face. The last thing Farrah needed was to feel the waves of absolute fucking fury pouring off me. I’m still not sure how I managed to pull it off.
I know exactly why she reacted the way she did earlier. It took years for me to stop flinching at shit that triggered me.
The way she looked at me after I asked her to turn around shattered my already broken heart. It was as if she’d resigned herself to the pain she thought was coming. It takes years of abuse to get to that point. I want to ask her if it was just her dad who abused her or if it was someone else.
Now isn’t the time though. Even if she weren’t passed out against my shoulder, I wouldn’t discuss what happened while she’s drunk. That conversation requires a clear head, and neither of us has one of those tonight.
Once I’m parked outside her house, I debate what to do. I don’t want to wake her up. She looks so fucking cute right now.
In the end, I don’t have much choice. I’ll have to move to get her out of the truck, no matter what.
I slowly turn my body to slide my hands under her. With careful movements, I manage to get myself out of the truck and scoot her out with me. I realize my mistake the second I get to her front door.
I don’t have the door code to get inside.
“Princess,” I say gently. She barely stirs, which makes me want to laugh. “Farrah. Wake up, sweetheart.”
“Hmm?” She moves her head back to look at me with sleep still in her eyes.
“I need your door code.”
“1324,” she mumbles.
With more finesse than I imagined I had, I enter the code and open the door. I carry her upstairs to her bedroom. It’s the only door that’s open in the hallway, and I roll my eyes at the sage-green walls. I can’t deny that it’s a soothing color. I also have a feeling she painted the floral mural behind her bed. A swath of watercolor flowers spans the entire wall, matching the color theme. It’s beautiful, even if it’s not exactly my taste.
