Page 14 of Shattered Vows


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Trek around in public, every day, with her battered face?

She was familiar with how small-town gossip worked. Hard pass.

Would you rather have Quinn see all the damage Preston inflicted?

Bile rose in her throat. The wounds on her back were the worst. When she’d tried to crawl away from him...

She pinched the bridge of her nose and winced. It sounded like a lose-lose situation to her. But she knew which option would make her feel the safest.

She straightened her shoulders and met Dr. Buchanan’s gaze. She could do this, dammit. “Quinn.”

“I’ll get him.” Dr. Buchanan stood. “Be right back.”

When he returned with Quinn, her earlier embarrassment seemed like nothing. Now? She wanted to die. Yes, she knew what Preston had done wasn’t her fault, but it didn’t change the fact that she was ashamed.

Ashamed that it hadn’t been the first time Preston had hurt her. Ashamed that she had let herself get so complacent. Ashamed that it had taken her so long to leave. So many damn things...

She had to give Dr. Buchanan credit, though. He kept it clinical as he pointed out which wounds on her back Quinn needed to prioritize keeping an eye on. Clinical or not, it hadn’t made it any less mortifying. When he was done, she adjusted her shirt and leaned back.

Quinn wouldn’t meet her eyes. She wanted to know what he was thinking. She didn’t know why it mattered, but it did. Was he disgusted by her bruises? Angry? Did he pity her?

“Alex, I’d like to see you at my office in the next couple of days.”

She nodded her acknowledgment, and the good doctor let himself out. She continued to stare at Quinn, willing him to look at her. But his gaze stayed glued to the floor.

Silence engulfed the room.

“Quinn, please say something.”

He raised his head, and the anger swirling in his eyes was palpable. “What do you want me to say, Alex?”

She inched backward on the bed, pulling her knees close to her chest.

“Don’t do that,” he said.

She flinched, then held still, observing him.

He fisted his hands in his hair and blew out a breath. “Yes,” he said, his voice rough. “I’m pissed, all right? I am fucking livid. But not at you, Alex. Never atyou. Please believe me when I swear I’m not going to hurt you.”

Slamming his eyes shut, he scrubbed his hands over his face. After a second, he let out a weary sigh and dropped his arms to his sides. “But why would you believe me?” he murmured, as if all the anger was seeping out of him. “You don’t know me, and I’m acting like a fucking crazy person.”

She remained frozen as Quinn came to the side of the bed and perched on the edge, his movements deliberate and slow. He reached for her arm, but stopped before touching her, and pulled his hand back.

“May I?”

Her heart threatened to beat out of her chest. Part of it was pure, instinctive fear. The other part was anger at herself for being afraid in the first place. She detested the quivering mess she’d become.

Determined to be strong, she forced herself to meet Quinn’s gaze. His steel-gray eyes still held traces of anger, but they also pleaded with her.

When she nodded, he took hold of her wrist in a tender grasp and turned it so the bruises and stitches on her inner forearm were exposed. Her chest squeezed, and she knew he could feel her trembling.

“Deep breath, sweetheart,” he murmured, demonstrating.

As they inhaled and exhaled together, he traced a feather-light knuckle around her stitches. Tears welled in her eyes. She blinked them away.

“When I see these cuts on your arm, the cop in me shouts, ‘Standard defensive wounds.’ But then I realize it’syourarm. Not the arm of some faceless, nameless person. It’syou. And then I look at all the cuts and bruises... and I see your back... and I want to destroy him.” Barely above a whisper, his voice was fierce. “I know you just met me and have zero reasons to trust me, but I need you to understand that I’mnevergoing to hurt you. Not only will I swear that to you, Alex, but on my parents’ graves, I’ll prove it to you.”

She could only stare at him as he caressed her arm, a gentle gesture that stood in sharp contrast to the passion in his voice. The weight on her chest eased, and the tension holding her body in a tight coil dissolved.

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