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"Over my dead –"
"Ineedthat,corderito," he ground out in a meaningful tone. "You have your demands and I have mine." He ran a hand through his dark hair and shrugged. "You are my responsibility and Iwilltake care of you."
Anxious, I weighed up my options and found myself slowly climbing off his bed and following him into the bathroom, stopping at the nightstand for his blade on my way.
No way in hell was I stepping inside that room without protection.
Keeping a respectful distance from my body, Trig set to work on switching on the shower and gathering up towels and a spare t-shirt for me to sleep in.
"You can go ahead," he said in a thick tone, waving a hand towards the glass shower doors and having the decency to avert his eyes from my body. "I will wait out here for you until you, uh – " He frowned at the tiled floor and blew out a harsh breath. "I need to know the blood is out."
"I taught you better than that," I whispered with a shake of my head, hands behind my back. "Pull your words together."
His brows furrowed in frustration and he flicked his gaze to mine. "What was it?"
"You need to know the blood isgone, not out," I explained before swinging the glass door open and backing into the shower. "You know better."
"Gone," Trig muttered, correcting himself, brows knitted. "Not out."
I smothered a smile, knowing he deserved none of those, and waited for him to turn his back before placing the knife on his shampoo rack.
Protection, I assured myself.
Just in case this was a trick.
A game.
A false sense of security.
My brain was screamingdanger, my heart was laughing at the notion, my body didn’t seem to know what it wanted, and my pride was demanding vengeance.
Conflicted, I quickly set to work on lathering my hair with his shampoo and scrubbing myself raw with a loofah. My skin was littered with faint bruises, many of those being fingerprints, and my stomach turned at the sight.
"Can I…" Trig's voice came from the other side of the glass. "Is it gone?"
"I'm not bleeding anymore," I called back weakly. "I'm okay."
"I need to see," was his gruff reply. "Justsee."
"I really don't…"
Letting my words trail off, I decided to push the door open. There was little point in putting it off.
If he wanted me, he could have me. Nobody was coming to save me. "See," I whispered, back pressed to the wall of the shower, as I watched Trig.
He was still naked and standing in the shower doorway with his heated gaze locked on my body.
"See," I deadpanned. "All gone."
"I marked you," he bit out, eyes locked on my thighs. "You are bruised."
"I'll heal."
Muttering a string of Spanish swear words under his breath, he stepped into the shower and I panicked, quickly scrambling into the corner and directly under the flow of scalding water.
Holding his hands up, he eyed me warily. "I will not hurt you," he said in a slow, coaxing tone. "I swear."
Uncertain, I watched as he slowly closed the space between us and then sank to his knees. My pulse thundered in my ears, heart hammering violently in my chest, when he dipped his head and pressed a soft kiss to my left thigh and then my right.
