“Thanks,” I murmured, hoping he’d give me a minute to collect myself. After a moment of indecision, he did just that, rising from the bed. “I’ll see you out there.”
“’Kay.” I nodded and watched him leave the room, closing the door behind him.
I took a shaky breath in, determined to pull myself together, slid my glasses on, and threw the covers back, rising on stiff legs. I headed for the en-suite bathroom, finding it bare but tidy, much like his bedroom. I went about my business, studying the empty walls, wondering if he even noticed how devoid of personality his space was.
It wasn’t until I was washing my hands that I looked up in the mirror.
My reflection had me gripping the counter for support. I didn’t even recognize myself. My eyes were both black and blue and impossibly swollen. My gaze tracked down my frame, eyeing the bandages scattered across my hips and belly. There were five in all and I remembered every slice as it’d happened, vividly.
My heart hammered in my chest, my fingers shaking as I pulled the bandage at my hip, the largest of them, carefully back. For some reason I couldn’t explain, I needed to see it. The mean-looking laceration was angry and red and though neatly stitched together, I knew it would scar.
It wasn’t vanity that had me reeling, but the fact I’d have a permanent reminder of what had been done to me.
“Francesca?” Maddox’s concerned voice on the other side of the door made me realize I’d likely been in here a while.
“I’ll be out in a minute.” My voice was entirely too squeaky and wobbly, but it was the best I could manage.
I stared at myself in the mirror, willing myself to pull it together. My heart pounded in my chest, hands shaking despite their grip on the countertop. I couldn’t seem to break away from my horrific reflection. It was as though every nightmare I’d experienced was looming over me, threatening to break through the glass and swallow me whole.
I distantly heard the door open behind me a moment before his strong arms wrapped around my chest, gently pulling me into his strength.
“I was trying to give you some space, but it didn’t feel right,” he admitted.
I turned in his arms, realizing that having his strong arms envelop me far surpassed the cotton tee I had yet to put on.
“But this does,” he rasped, his chin resting on the top of my head as he held me close.
After several long breaths, mine rapid, his quiet and steady, my heart rate began to slow. A few breaths more and I felt once again anchored to the ground rather than a swirling cyclone of grief.
“He left me with nothing but scars.” My breath hitched as I fisted his cotton tee. “He took everything from me.Again.”
“Not everything.” Maddox’s reply was absolute. He leaned in to me, stooping to press his forehead to mine. “You have me.”
I pushed away from him in irritation. “I’m a Rossi, Maddox—not that I need to make that clear to you after my trip here. Whether or not I’ve ever subscribed to my uncle’s organization, that’s still true. I saw the way your family looked at me—the way your club looked at me. They don’t trust me,” I argued. “I don’t have you. I haveme. But that’s fine. It’s the way it’s been for a long time.”
A frustrated growl ripped from his throat. “Not anymore. It won’t ever be just you. Not ever again.” He cupped my face, attempting to meet my eyes. I refused, keeping my face downcast. He made a grumbling sound of frustration. “The club, my family, I think at first, yeah, they were leery. Not gonna deny it. But now? They see a woman who risked everything to do the right thing. And all that aside, they know you’re mine and if they want me, then they need to accept you too.”
“Yours?” I sputtered.
“Mine,” he replied on a possessive growl. “I know you don’t believe that right now. But you will. For now, I want you to come with me and eat something. Can you do that for me?”
I nodded, knowing I should probably get something in my stomach.
“You gonna look at me?” he demanded gently.
I shook my head. “I look like a monster.” I grimaced.
His hand cupped the side of my neck, coaxing my head up and my eyes to his. “Let me see those eyes, beautiful,” he coaxed.
After another moment of hesitation, I did as he asked, meeting his gorgeous gray gaze.
“You’re the most beautiful fucking girl I’ve ever seen.” He looked down at me with such reverence, his tone so sure, that for a second I forgot the state I was in. “Always have been, from the first moment I saw you. You shine from the inside out. Nothing and no one can change that.”
I wanted to believe that, but shattered as I was, I wasn’t there yet. He took my hand and guided me to the living room, where he sat me on the couch. “I’ll bring you over a plate and some coffee.”
I nodded, sitting stiffly on the couch, my hands on my knees as I looked around the room, feeling tense and a whole lot lost.
“Sorry, I don’t have a table,” he apologized as he put a plate of buttered toast and a coffee cup in my hands. “We’ll have to fix that.”
