Page 121 of Inflict

He figured his guilt was worth nothing to her pain.

Connor continued dabbing at the broken skin on Evelyn’s thigh until the blood stopped leaking from the wound, and then he grabbed a new towel to finish drying her off.

“I can do it,” she said.

“I know you can, but you deserve a break.” Connor matched her smile. “So, let me do it.”

Evelyn gave him the softest kiss. “All right, you do it.”

He went about drying her off, helping her from the tub, and wrapping her hair with yet another clean towel. Once he was done, he stepped back to let her lead the way to the bedroom for her food. Evelyn settled into the bed, wrapping herself in blankets and huddling a pile of food in front of her. She ate as he went in search of a first aid kit, and never said a thing when he cleaned her back and thigh after finding supplies to use.

“You know,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed, “for what it’s worth, love, I learned something, too.”

“Oh?”

“I didn’t like it, either.”

“What was it?”

Connor pointed to his temple. “It’s too dark in here without you. I can’t hide it, everyone can see it, and I don’t like it.”

She didn’t even blink at his admission, entirely unsurprised. “Strange how that works.”

Strange was one word for it.

It was only later, after the food was gone, after Connor heard his friend’s footsteps outside the bedroom before they disappeared, long after all the lights had been turned off, and Evelyn was hiding safely under the blankets …

It was only then that she cried and reached for him.

Connor held her for as long she wanted, safely hidden under those blankets, her soap-smelling skin pressed tightly against his, while her legs tangled around his body to keep him from leaving. He found that she was scared, even if she had hidden it well. He found that she wanted to go home, and hide away with her sketchbooks and pencils, so then she could bleed all the things from her mind.

He found she wanted him.

Connor hesitated before giving in, but only because he thought she needed sleep more than she needed him. He thought her injuries didn’t need to be irritated more than they already were from everything else.

None of that mattered to her.

He wasn’t very good at denying her what she wanted. It certainly wasn’t as rough as it usually was between them, nor was he as brutal. He swore her pleas and blissful cries had never been louder in his ears, that she had never tasted quite as sweet under his tongue, and her demand had never been so frantic.

In the morning, he decided.

The rest could wait until the morning.

• • •

“Are you sure this is a smart idea?” Killian asked.

Connor adjusted the knot on his tie, ignoring the way the feckin’ thing felt like it was choking him to death. He was not a three-piece suit kind of man, but apparently, the appearance of power and culture was more important than the proof of it in the grand scheme of things.

He had been back in New York for less than a week, and already, he knew things were not better on some fronts. Perhaps with Evelyn, yes. But on things like the O’Neil organization, a brotherhood that he had torn apart in his effort to get his lover back safe and sound, it was in a terrible state.

“You did say I made a mess,” Connor muttered.

Killian pulled the car into the first available parking spot, and killed the engine. His friend turned to look at him. “There are other ways we could handle that mess, too.”

“But what does that really fix in the end, boyo?”

“Well—”