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I didn’t mean to snap, but I didn’t want to give way to his kindness. All kindness came with a price. It didn’t matter what people said. There was always some sort of exchange going on in the background. So, in a lot of ways, he was right about balance—and that balance would come back to bite me if I let him take care of me too much.
My mother did it. Percy did it.
Juriah would do it too.
I fled the kitchen and locked myself in the bathroom. I used the hand towel Juriah had handed me to clean myself up, trying to ignore the fluttering feelings in my gut as I wiped away the fluid from my slit. That was another stupid mistake I had just made. I’d let him bust his load right inside me.
I threw the towel into the trash can. Where the hell was my head these days? Why couldn’t I get a damn grip? Survival should have been the only thing on my mind, but I couldn’t stay away from Juriah. And then when I was away from him, I couldn’t stop thinking about him.
The whole cabin reeked of azaleas. I wanted nothing more than to get lost in the scent all the time, to let myself get taken over by the comfort of it. Tears choked me up as I yanked on my clothes and leaned against the sink for probably the second or third time today.
I kept my eyes closed. No more mirrors. I didn’t want to see what I was becoming under this state of duress. While I listened to the sound of Juriah moving around the kitchen and opening the porch door, I tried to imagine what life would be like if I stayed here.
Can I do that?
Wrinkles clogged the space between my brows. Who was I kidding? Juriah wasn’t going to keep me around, and Raven would probably send me off before Percy could attack. He was going to find me. Because he always found me. And if he didn’t find me, I would end up crawling my way back to him.
This would be the fourth time. What was he going to do to me?
My nails ached as I tried to dig them into the porcelain sink. When I finally let my lids slide open, my eyes were bloodshot, and my face was soaked in tears. I shook my head and ran the faucet, again.
For the millionth time.
Cool water was the only thing that would soothe me at this point.
Soothe.
That Etta witch had said that word. She had lit that bundle of stinky herbs and walked around the house waving it elegantly. She was gorgeous. She was skinny. She was successful. She had kissed Juriah’s cheek.
Anger inflamed me. I finished washing up, wiped my face dry, and went back to the kitchen where the porch door sat open. A light breeze beckoned me to step into the yard, carrying with it the smell of lighter fluid and charcoal. Bags rustled. Grunts gave way to sighs of satisfaction.
Juriah appeared in the doorway. “There you are.”
“Yes, I’m here.” I fluffed my hair. “I, uh…sorry I took so long.”
“You never have to apologize for taking your time.”
I pointed behind him. “Need help?”
“No, but you can help if you want.”
If I want?I gulped.Oh, he doesn’t think I can cook, does he?
I took a deep breath and pushed past him, taking a seat in one of the rocking chairs on the porch. The grill sat about ten feet from the rear steps. Smoke billowed from inside it. On the table beside the grill were the steaks I had rinsed. I frowned while glancing at Juriah.
But he seemed to have read my mind as he handed me the bowl of potatoes and an empty bowl to go with it.
Peeler included.
“Don’t get used to this,” I warned, but in my heart I was desperate to get used to it. “I’m just helping you out while I’m here.”
“Of course,” he said. “Take your time.”
But I knew what he meant.
I knew that he was saying so much more than what he was saying. Juriah demanded directness while coating his words with other meanings. It wasn’t necessarily on purpose or anything. I could just tell he meant more.
My walls rose fiercely, surrounding me with the protective layer I had come to intuitively trust. As I dug into peeling the potatoes, I leaned into my survival skills, allowing my gut to carry me forward even though my body wanted desperately to stay.
