Page 33 of Simply You & Me

"Don't what?" Tate murmurs, and it takes a considerable amount of effort not to go to him too. His eyes are rimmed red, and he looks like he might throw up.

Addie's eyes soften at the soothing cadence of his voice. "Don't judge me," she chokes out on a watery sob.

"Never," Tate says with a determined nod. He gives her hand a squeeze before gripping my shirt and tugging me away from Addie.

Every instinct in my body roars at the distance between us. My muscles bunch, and my tennis shoes skid across the tile of the kitchen floor with reluctance.

Gingerly, Addie shifts her weight around and drops off the counter. We each take a collective step toward her when she cringes, holding in her gasp of pain.

Fuck. Was there a fucking nail sticking out of the damn doorway?! If something had cut her, wouldn't there have been a hole in her jeans?

My thoughts jumble as we watch Addie's trembling form work the buttons and zipper of her jeans. Her soft cries and jerking shoulders make my chest ache, like each jolt of her body squeezes my heart tighter.

"Baby girl?" Wyatt says, worry through his tone.

With her thumbs in the waistband of her jeans, she pauses and decides to rip my heart to fucking shreds with her plea. "Please don't hate me." Her eyes don't lift from the ground as her hands shift the fabric down. With each inch, a breathy wail escapes her chest.

Her jeans hit the floor.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Julian

As the fabric pools at Addie's feet, the world stops spinning on its axis. My body reacts like Bella's did when she turned into a vampire. Minus the broken back. It feels like seeing the marred flesh of Addie's thighs has completely rewritten the composition of my blood, muscles, and bones.

My heart stops and restarts like it needs to take a beat to gather itself before facing life again. Tingles race across my skin as my entire being reboots and updates. The numbness that threatened to drag me to the floor skitters away, leaving tingles in its wake.

Silence. Sniffles. A whimper. A gasp.

"I-I'm sorry," Addie breaks the shocked silence.

Her trembling body breaks me out of my horrified daze. "Come on, sweetheart." Kneeling in front of her, I help her feet out of the stained jeans. Wavering slightly when I stand, I take her hand in mine and pull her from the kitchen.

"Wyatt, help Tate, please," Zach murmurs in our wake. The crack in his husky voice makes me ache to comfort everyone. I didn't see how everyone reacted to the marks on Addie's thighs, but I know my guys enough to guess their reactions. Wyatt will distract himself by grounding Tate, and Zach won't be too far behind us.

Turning on the main level bathroom light, I fight the burn of my eyes as I listen to her sniffle. I grip her hips and set her on the counter. "Sorry," I murmur when she gasps at the cool tile against her bare skin.

"Jules?" she whispers, grabbing my arm before I can pull away. "Are you… are you mad at me?"

Fuck. Immediately whipping my gaze to hers, I find roaring depths of fear and uncertainty looking back at me. "Of course not, Addie! Fuck, sweetheart. I'm terrified," I breathe.

Her mouth makes an 'O' as Zach shuffles through the door. He looks shell-shocked but determined as fuck as he glares down at Addie's thighs. The first aid kit clanks against the counter, making her jolt as she eyes the big guy with worry.

Grabbing a few washcloths, I wet one in the sink while Zach gathers what we need from the kit of bandages and ointments. Tears threaten again as my hand nears the bloody flesh of my sweetheart's thigh. With each swipe of blood, more raised skin is uncovered. Some are bright red and scabbed, while others are pink or white. Fresh cuts, healing cuts, and scarred cuts. Both upper thighs match; a map of crisscrossing turmoil. A battle ground where she fights her demons.

"Sorry, sweetness," I murmur in response to her hissed whimper. Zach stands back, gripping the bottle of disinfectant hard enough I worry he’ll break it. With the blood gone, I finally see the slice that was bleeding.

"No, no, no, no!" Addie's hands slam against the sides of her thigh, making more droplets of blood rise to the surface.

"Sweetheart," I start, but her choked sob and shaking head cut me off.

"No! It was healing! It was supposed to be okay!"

Panicked when the red droplets start dripping down her leg again, I grip her wrists and yank them away before she does any more damage. "Addie, stop. I need to clean this." The puckered skin around the cut looks like it was attached to a pretty big scab, and I really don't want it to get infected.

"NO!"

Addie's shout scares the shit out of me, but I don't let go of her arms, afraid she'll hurt herself even more. I mean fuck! She's been intentionally hurting herself for a long time. This sweet, beautiful woman has been self-harming for longer than I can stomach. There are so many white lines crisscrossed with new, colorful ones. I can't. I just can't. I need her to stop. I can't handle my wisp of a woman doing this any longer.

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