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If my heart wasn’t already broken, it would be now. Only Nix has the ability to make me go from feeling one thing to feeling something completely different in a split second, and this is a prime example. One instant, I’m angry, wanting nothing more than to shove him away, and the next, I want to hold and protect him from the world. It makes no sense, but I feel for him. I feel sad that he didn’t grow up in a loving home.
“Thank you for trying.”
“Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”
“Promise me you won’t let him touch me.” It’s the first thing that comes to my mind since I know the thing I really want he can’t give me. “That, and that I can leave after tomorrow.”
“I promise.” He holds out his pinky. I stare at it for a moment, thinking he is joking, but when he keeps his hand stretched out toward me, I raise my own.
“Pinky promise?” I hook my pinky into his.
“Yes.” He offers a faint smile before letting go of my finger and getting off the bed. He covers me up again, pulling the blanket up to my chin. “Good night,” he murmurs before leaving the room and closing the door gently behind him.
I didn’t grow up in the perfect home myself, but at least there was love and compassion in my house. The longer I’m here, the more certain I am that Nix and Colt never got that.
CHAPTER 32
“What’s the matter?”
I open my eyes, which I didn’t bother doing when the bedroom door opened a moment ago. Colt stands in the doorway, frowning at me. Like my being in bed inconveniences him somehow.
“I don’t feel well.” Please, let him leave it at that.
No. On second thought, he needs to know. For the first time in my whole life, I was glad when the cramps started this morning.
He rolls his eyes. “Come on. You know that excuse isn’t going to work.”
“It’s not an excuse.”
“What’s wrong with you, then? Are you running a fever? Because you know, he’s going to want proof—”
“I have my period, genius. I got it this morning. And if James wants proof, he can be my guest.” Uh, maybe I shouldn’t have said that. He’s just gross enough to want to examine me while I’m bleeding.
At least I have the satisfaction of watching Colt fall back a step. “Oh. I guess we didn’t think about that.”
“Of course not. You don’t have to. You’re a man.” I close my eyes and wince as a cramp takes hold. “You don’t have to go through this once a month.”
He moves closer to the bed, and I could almost laugh if I didn’t feel so miserable. It’s like he’s afraid of me somehow. Like he’s approaching an animal he’s never come close to before. All I had to do was mention my period.
“Please, I can’t do it,” I whisper, crossing my arms over my abdomen. “I just can’t, Colt.”
“You know it’s not going to work that way.”
“Why not? I’m only human. I’m not a machine or a blow-up doll. I don’t feel well. I hurt all over. Can’t you try to get through to him?”
“Yeah, right.” He flings the blankets away before folding his arms. “You need to eat something. You can’t starve yourself to death.”
“That’s not what I was trying to do. But it’s not like I’m in a big hurry to spend time with you guys. Don’t act like you don’t understand why I’d feel that way.”
“You still need to eat. Come on. One more day. You just have to get through today and tonight.”
“So it seriously doesn’t matter that I’m begging you to help me?”
“I’m trying to help you, but you’re too stubborn to see it.”
“Yeah, right. You’ve been so helpful.”
“Look, I’ll try, but I’m not going to promise something I know is impossible, and denying him isn’t possible.”
I give up. All we’re doing is talking in circles—and I am hungry, which shouldn’t come as a surprise, seeing as how I didn’t have dinner last night. Not that anybody cared.
He waits while I get out of bed, then leads the way out of the room and down the stairs. I’m so tired, as I always am on the first day. Not that I would expect them to care, even if they could relate to the feeling. I go to the kitchen and sit at the table, not saying a word. Colt only clicks his tongue and mutters to himself as he passes me, then goes to the fridge and pulls out lunch meat, cheese, lettuce, and tomato. A loaf of fresh sourdough sits on the counter, and he pulls out a bread knife to slice it. That knife is so tempting. What I could do with that knife…
By the time he’s finished building two sandwiches, Nix joins us. He looks like he just got out of the shower. His hair is damp, the T-shirt sticking to his back like he didn’t quite finish drying off before he got dressed. “You feel like making one of those for me?” he asks his brother, jerking his chin toward the sandwiches.
