Page 41 of Released from the Sin Bin

“Easy, you’re hurt.” Carter stops me from trying to sit up. “He’s in the bedroom with Kandi. Sleeping, I think.” He smiles down at me. “Jocelyn called Luca, and Luca wanted to borrow my truck.”

“You’re smiling.” I reach up and poke his cheek. “You never smile.” Carter’s norm is a scowl or a slight smirk that doesn’t match the rest of his face. It’s the first time I've seen a genuine upturn of his lips paired with a crease at the corner of his reddish-brown eyes.

He clears his throat, quickly wiping that smile away.

“You gave us a good scare.” He bites his lip to stop the grin from returning. “I guess I’m happy you're alive.”

Oh, god.

I almost got myself killed, but even worse, I could’ve gotten my friends killed.

I drop my head into Carter’s hard, tattooed pecs. “I fucked up, didn’t I?”

“Why did you go after him?” His arm tightens around me. “Why do you keep letting him do this shit to you?”

“I…I don’t know.” It’s the only answer I can give, because the present me wants to go back in time and stop the past me from walking out of that house. “I won’t.” I don’t have it in me to take anymore.

Carter lets go of me and rolls out to grab a water bottle behind him. “Drink some water.”

Fighting against the sharp pain shooting up my calf, I sit up and drink the water offered.

“Hold on.” Carter notices the tormented look on my face before I can hide it. He helps me sit up to relieve the effort that was straining my leg.

The blanket comes off, revealing all of him. His boxers, if you can call the thin white booty shorts that, are leaving nothing to the imagination. Vic doesn’t look like that in his tight-y whities.

“Thank you.” I blush and look away.

“How are you feeling?” Kandi comes out of the hallway, distracting my embarrassment.

“Not great,” I laugh. But then I remember our last conversation, and the not so nice things I said to her about hurting Luca. I haven’t talked to her in a few weeks and now she’s one of the people forced to take care of me. “I’m sorry for what I said. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“There’s no need to apologize.” Kandi shrugs and sits down on the couch to face me while Carter gives us some privacy. “You weren’t wrong, but I wasn’t either.” She sighs and points at the hallway. “He’s sleeping in the room. I know I hurt him, but I’m trying not to. I won’t do that to him.”

She refers to me accusing her of playing with Luca’s heart and how she’ll toss him away once she’s through with him. That’s what I thought she’s always done, but maybe I was wrong. I’ve been wrong about a lot of things lately.

Carter comes back in as if he wasn’t listening to our conversation from the next room. “The roads are still bad, but we should be able to head back down tomorrow morning.”

Kandi and him share a look before she gets up to go back to her room. “I’m going to go check on Luca.”

“I’m making tea.” Carter looks around the room, unsure of what to do. “What else do you need?”

“Some clothes would be nice.” I shiver in my thin camisole and satin underwear. I left the house without a bra and no bag. I left with nothing and will go back with even less.

“I’ll be back.” He slips his coat and boots on, running outside before I can stop him. Clothes aren’t that important. I can wrap myself in blankets to keep warm or borrow from the many girls in the cabin.

The wind howls through the cabin when the door opens back up, and Carter shakes off the snow before dropping a bag on the floor. Leaving his coat and boots behind, he pulls out clothes from the bag. Then comes over to carefully pull a sweatshirt over my head.

“You just went outside in your boxers,” I state, still in shock at what I witnessed.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” He smirks while helping my arms through the sleeves.

He looks from his sweatpants to my bare legs. Only a brief hesitation before he’s rolling a pant leg onto my good foot.

“Um…” I move my leg away, not sure how I feel about Carter dressing me. The sweatshirt was weird but doable. Carter pulling my pants up my legs and over my ass? That’s not happening.

He stops and looks up at me from my feet. “Think of me as a trained EMT.” His eyebrows raise in question, waiting for me to give the ok to keep going. “If you prefer, I can get one of the girls to do it.”

“No.” I’m being silly. He’s a trained professional and there’s nothing intimate about helping an injured woman put pants on. “It’s fine. Just do it.” I’ve already intruded on their time enough.

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