My eyes widen, and I pull my face as far away from him as I can. Tears sting my eyes at having to tell him what I attempted to do. “Bunny …”
“I placed it in my mouth so Marvin wouldn’t hear me scream,” I cave, knowing that the bastard already knows this. He’s just making me say it. He wants me to remind myself that I failed.
His eyes narrow on mine, and his jaw sharpens. He looks at me as if he wants to hit me, and for a moment, I hope he does. I want him to make me hurt. Make me feel alive. Because I feel deader now than I ever have. Once again, I failed myself. I got myself in a situation I couldn’t get out of.
Instead, he places the washcloth in the warm water that continues to fill the tub and then grabs the soap bottle, pouring the pink liquid onto the washcloth. After he lathers it up, he places it on my skin and starts to wash me. I stay silent as I remember the last time he bathed me. Before things went very south. Eleven years ago.
He sits behind me in his tub, his arms around my shoulders while my back rests on his chest. I feel his lips by my ear, and he whispers. “I love you, Bunny.”
I smile, closing my eyes. “I love you too, Avery.”
His arms loosen around my shoulders, and his hand moves to my flat stomach. “I hope it’s a girl,” he whispers.
“Yeah?” I ask with a smile. “You don’t want a boy?”
“I want a girl. The world needs another beautiful face like yours,” he says, and I feel tears threaten my eyes at his words. I’m terrified. I have no idea how to care for a baby. But he makes me believe that we can do it. Just me and him. Our own little family.
“Well, I can’t wait to find out.” We’ve only known I’m expecting for a few weeks now, and he hasn’t let me out of his sight since. I’ve been moody and sick lately. He suggested the possibility, but I said there was no way. We have always been careful, but I guess not enough. I frown. “I wish you didn’t have to leave next week.” He and Preston are going away to look at colleges. Avery assured me I’d be going wherever he decides to go, but with the baby coming, we need to have a plan. I couldn’t argue with that.
“I’ll only be gone for a week,” he promises me before kissing my cheek.
CHAPTER TWELVE
AVERY
THE WATER IS BLOOD RED and has started to turn cold, but I had to do this. I’ve been sitting in her room, waiting for her to wake up, and when she did, I couldn’t look at the blood covering her anymore. I had showered earlier after I watched the tape with my brother where she tore herself open, so now it was her turn.
“Stand up,” I order, and she slowly makes her way to her feet.
I grab the towel off the floor and stand, starting to dry off her neck and shoulders. She silently cries, and I’m not sure if it’s due to humiliation or pain. I come to her tits, and they make my cock grow behind my zipper. Her pink nipples harden from the coldness, and I run the towel over them, drying them off. Water runs down her flat stomach and her smooth pussy. She still has bruises on both of her hips from the way I took her over the dining room table, and she hisses in a breath when I push on them too hard as I dry them off. Dark bruises cover both wrists and ankles as well.
I don’t apologize.
“Step out,” I order her, and she does as I say on shaky legs. “How do you feel?”
“Fine.”
I stop drying her legs and stand to my full height, glaring down at her. “Tell me the truth. Do you need something for the pain?”
“I’m. Fine.” She says each word slowly as if I may not understand her, and I nod.
Okay.
I take her by the hand and pull her out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom. The red comforter has been replaced by a white one. The white sheets have been replaced with black ones. I had sent Marvin a text letting him know she was awake while she collapsed on the bedroom floor and to come change out the bedding and bring her a water and some food.
I pull back the duvet. “Get in,” I command, and she does slowly.
“I don’t wanna sleep naked,” she says softly.
“Too bad.”
She lets out a long breath, too tired to argue. “Here,” I say, grabbing the tray that sits on her nightstand. “You need to eat something.”
She looks over at the pancakes, eggs, and bacon. After a long second, she chooses a single piece of toast. “I want you to eat everything,” I tell her and then turn around and leave.
I enter my study to find my brother still sitting there. “Don’t you ever go home?” I ask, sitting down at my desk.
He pours me a new glass of scotch. “How is she?” He was just as impressed as I was from the video of her lying in the bathtub naked, cutting herself open.