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I grip the edge of the tub even harder, gritting my teeth as a fresh wave of pain hits me. I was getting out of the tub if it was the last thing I did. At this point, the pain was just an annoying nuisance trying to control me like everything else in my pathetic life and I wouldn't let it.
“Blondie.” The word slips through the wall and I realize Kaleb must be standing right behind my bathroom door.
“If you're trying to give me the silent treatment, I would not recommend it,” he growls, the words echoing through my apartment's tiny bathroom. I almost scoff at his mention of the silent treatment, if anybody deserved it, it would be him.
He tries to open the door before realizing I locked it and lets out a string of curse words that would make even the dirtiest of minds blush.
“Blondie.” His words laced with the promise of retribution nothing but white noise as I tried in vain to lift myself out of the tub, my brow sweating from the effort. I manage to lift myself part way out before my side cramps again and I let out a yelp, falling hard on my backside as water sloshes around me and out of the tub.
“Blondie!” Kaleb yells from outside the door. I don't answer him as I clutch my side, my breaths shortening as I try to get the pain under control.
“Rose! Open the door, Rose,” Kaleb yells before banging on the white wood. His fists shaking the walls so hard it’d be a miracle if my landlord let me keep the place.
Distantly, I realized my eyes were starting to close, blackness painting their edges as I began to lose consciousness. My fingers are drifting from the edge of the tub. My lower back is on fire, my side the source of the flames, and getting out of this tub seems impossible at this point. I sink lower into the water, giving into the darkness, my lids blessedly slipping closed.
The sound of wood breaking fills the room and I squint to see Kaleb kicking my door down, the white barrier flying against the wall as it's ripped from its very hinges. The door narrowly missing me as it toppled to the ground.
Did Kaleb just kick my door down? I must truly be delusional from the pain.
Hands grip my arms, pulling me out of the water I must have slipped under in my losing battle to stay awake. Rough palms graze my face, and eyes filled with what I would have assumed was worry if devils like Kaleb were capable of feeling such things, scan my face for injuries. His left hand traces along my body and I feel him go utterly still when he spots it. The hideous bruise making up most of my side.
“They’re dead.” He growls. The words echo across the tiny bathroom walls. The syllables so ruff it was like he could barely get them past his lips without shaking and I shiver all over again. Goosebumps attacking my body in a vicious attempt to warn me against the monster about to be unleashed before me.
Kaleb dips his hands further into the tub, ruining his expensive dress shirt as he grabs under my thighs and lifts me out of the tub and into his arms like this was our honeymoon and not some fucked up rescue mission courtesy of thieves with lion tattoos.
He carries me into my bedroom and I try to ignore the fact that I am completely bare in his arms, in too much pain to care. He settles me gently onto the worn mattress, his eyes roaming my bruised body before settling on my purple-painted side, his irises cold and calculating. I can only imagine the deadly carousels turning in his mind. Plotting the demise of those who wronged him until the world is nothing but ashes at his feet.
Gently he lays my black robe across me, covering me in a vain attempt at modesty. It’s ironic considering he had quite literally seen almost all of me spread before him on my living room couch and yet I found myself appreciating the gesture more than I probably should.
He perches on the end of my twin-sized mattress, long legs spread before him, his dark hair and dark clothes looking completely out of place in my yellow-walled childhood bedroom. I watch his eyes on me as he traces stars across my calves with his fingertips, the same thing he had done back on the couch, and the sensation causes goosebumps to rise on my skin.
“Are you cold?” He asks, tugging my robe tighter around me. I shake my head no and wince from the pain of the movement. My side still throbbing from my unexpected fall in my crappy bathtub.
Kaleb clenches his jaw.
“You didn't tell me you were bruised so badly.” He states. The words come out firm, almost angry.
I shrug, avoiding his eyes.
“You didn't ask,” I retort stubbornly, watching as his hands clench at his side.
“You should have told me.” His words are even angrier than before and I realize it's not me he's angry at, it’s himself. For touching me when I was like this. A broken mess of purple who couldn't even bathe herself without falling.
My shoulders soften and I look into his lost boy eyes,
“I wanted it,” I say the words. A silly whisper in the space between us, “I wanted you.” His eyes latch onto me like velcro, impossible to decipher and I want to pluck his every thought from his brain with nothing but tweezers and bad intentions.
“Oh, I know you wanted it.” He smirks, and I scowl. He surprises me by reaching his hand across my face, his fingers lingering at the corner of my mouth,
“So easy to ruffle your feathers Blondie.” He states and I scowl again which causes him to laugh, the sound melting my common sense to goo, before his eyes turn serious,
“Who did this to you Rose?” I ignore his use of my real name (the fifth time he’s used it today) and look down at my lap.
“I don't know,” I mumble, blinking back tears. I hadn't cried in years. Not since dad. But it had been a rough couple of days and I hated how weak he made me feel. Like for the first time, if I fell, if I let myself fall apart someone might be there to catch me, to put my broken pieces back together again.
Sighing I look up at him, his black eyes seeing through my skin to the beating heart within,
“One of them had a tattoo of a lion,” I state.
