Page 52 of Cuts Like an Angel: Part 2

The door opened as she walked up the steps. “Rosie,” Carly greeted warmly with a perfect smile set in a perfect face.

“Hello,” Rosie said, feeling like the ugly duckling. She shook her dainty hand with the perfectly manicured nails, her bracelets giving a light clink. She was the poster woman of success. Everything Rosie would’ve dreamed of becoming—one cold day in hell. “Very nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” she assured in a soft, genuine tone that put Rosie’s mind at ease. “Josh is in the living room. I asked him to let me speak to you first,” she said in hushed tones as she levelled her gaze on Rosie, making her nervous.

“What’s wrong?”

“He did quite a number on himself, and I just wanted to prepare you. I’ve bandaged him up. Oh sweetheart,” she whispered, grabbing Rosie’s hands when she fought back a sob. “He’s fine; I promise. I used butterfly bandages to hold him together. Just keep an eye on them. He wasn’t very neat about it, and I’m not really sure what he used.”

Rosie only nodded, wanting to take her hands back so she could wipe her face. “I’ll take good care of him.”

“I know you will.” She petted Rosie’s hair, making her suddenly long for the comfort of a mother. “Are you okay now? Do you need a moment?”

“I’m ready to see him if that’s okay.”

“Of course, it is. I made him stay put. He’s not the most compliant patient, either.”

Rosie gave a smile and followed her down a short hall where she gestured at a door. “Go to him,” she whispered at her ear when Rosie hesitated. “He needs you.”

Rosie took a breath and pushed the door open slowly. She stepped in and found him in a large recliner to her left, sitting like he was restrained only without actual restraints. Carly closed the door, and he stood at seeing her.

“Don’t … stand,” she hurried, putting a hand out.

“I’m fine,” he said, though he clearly wasn’t. He looked pale and washed out. “Are you sure we don’t need to take you to the hospital?” Her words shook, and she covered her mouth as tears gushed.

He was suddenly there, arms softly around her. “Rosie,” he croaked at her ear, his lips pressing into the side of her face. She carefully held him, not sure where it was safe to touch.

“I’m so sorry,” she choked into his chest.

“No sorries, please,” he whispered. “I feel like a fuck up. I should’ve talked to you. I panicked.”

“I should’ve just told you right off.”

“Are you okay?” he asked, holding her face between his hands. “You’ve been crying,” he observed softly, like the idea still did amazing things to him. That somebody would cry for him. At the thought, more tears sprung up, and she nodded.

“All day. I’m sure it’s obvious, I probably have a tomato face.”

He stroked her cheeks with his thumbs, staring as though fascinated with seeing the evidence of this crying-for-him phenomenon. “Beautiful,” he rasped, leaning to kiss her lips with a careful reverence. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful. You. Crying for me.”

She felt his body trembling. “You need to sit,” she realized.

“I need to go home. With you,” he said lightly, like he wasn’t sure he’d be allowed.

“Carly wants that,” she said. “Thinks that’s exactly what you need.”

“Does she?” he said, sounding relieved. “I wasn’t sure. She’s a good person and friend. She doesn’t know I’m …”

“William?” she finished. “I didn’t tell her. I realized when she called you Josh. I would never tell if you didn’t want me to.”

He stroked her cheek with a thumb, his pretty eyes boring into hers. “I never said not to.”

She gave a small smile. “I erred to the side of caution.” She reached up and stroked the hair from his forehead, gliding a finger over his brow. “You’re safe with me. All your secrets are safe with me.”

His arms were around her again, harder this time, his kiss deep and consuming. She worried about his cuts. “Don’t hurt yourself,” she gasped right in his mouth.

“You heal all my wounds, Rosie.”

“I’m trying,” she barely managed around the sudden sob.

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