Page 77 of Tainted Love

I look into his eyes, deep and blue as the ocean, and it’s clearer than ever how much I love him back.

I’m in love with a killer.

Chapter 24

Lucy

It’s interesting to test how much pain the human body can take.

If I were a gambler like my father was, I’d be willing to bet that everyone tries to test themselves from time-to-time. Be it by pushing a needle point against the flesh of a fingertip or putting a touch too much pressure on a twisted ankle. Just to know what it feels like.

Limits are meant to be pushed. Human will is meant to be tested. Boundaries are meant to be crossed. It’s how we grow and learn and change. It’s how we know how far we can go before we snap.

Adaptation is the mark of a survivor.

I stand at the top of the shadow-covered stairs with one crutch nestled beneath my right arm. It has been nearly three weeks since I’ve touched the floor. It’s not something you think about until it’s taken away from you. Basic mobility, sense of balance, ease of movement. I can’t even get in and out of the bathtub on my own — although, Dante doesn’t mind at all assisting me with that chore.

That doesn’t stop me from apologizing each time. He brushes it off when I say it. He brings my fingers to his lips and kisses them without saying a word. I wish I could say I don’t feel guilty for it, but I do.

I already feel atrophy taking over my legs. Muscles grow weaker each day. Ligaments shrink. It’s a slow, steady fall from grace, but I can stop it if I try.

Push limits. Test my will. Cross boundaries.

I lean into the crutch on my right side and grip the banister on my left.

Come on, Lucy Vaughn.

Show some strength.

I step silently, easing down onto my good leg while pumping enough juice into the other to hold it up. There’s the slightest bit of pain, perfectly manageable in every way. There are twelve steps to the bottom. I can easily handle that pain eleven more times.

I take another step, flexing as the crutch digs sharply into my armpit. There’s more pain there, but again, perfectly within my limits.

Three more steps and my strength wavers.

I pause, filling my lungs with air as I put all my weight into my left leg. It shakes beneath me, threatening to knock me off-balance and send me toppling to the bottom — right back to square fucking one.

“Lucy—”

“Stop.”

I hold up my hand, halting Dante at the bottom of the stairs. He stands there, appearing as if from nowhere, no doubt drawn here by the sound of each painful breath.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

Moonlight shines through the windows, illuminating his scarred body and perfect face, along with that cobra staring up at me with black eyes from his bare chest.

“I can do this,” I say, my voice shaking.

He wants to argue with me. He wants to charge up the stairs, throw me over his shoulder, and force me back into bed upstairs. Instead, he flinches with curiosity in his eyes. He knows better than anybody how stubborn I can be and even if he did drag me back to bed, I’d only get back up again.

He stays at the bottom, ready to pounce on the worst-case scenario as I continue down.

Each step is slower and more painful than the last. I lie to myself, shouting inside that I’m still within my limits. I’m still in this to win it. The boundary is a mile away. My threshold for pain hasn’t even begun to—

The crutch slips from my grasp two steps away from the bottom.

Dante lurches forward, easily taking my weight with both hands. The crutch clatters on the stairs, sliding the rest of the way before settling at the bottom.

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