Page 5 of Bruise Me Tenderly

What Ian did to me hurt, but it was nothing compared to the pain I felt when he hurt River. That was the part I barely got over.

That was the part that kept me up at night for months after we escaped. Sometimes, I still wake up in the dead of night because I think I can hear River screaming.

A stitch burns in my side, and I welcome it. Pain has always helped me deal with things, helped me focus. I think it’s partly how I was able to stop Ian that final night. That and the fact that I was afraid River wasn’t going to make it another night. He was so much worse off than I was.

The memory of the blood on his face and arms flashes through my head, and I stumble near the end of the jogging path.

I double over and press my hands to my knees, trying to catch my breath. I wish I could outrun these horrible memories too. But would that be fair? If I’m the one who got us tangled up with Ian in the first place, shouldn’t I have to suffer the consequences for a lifetime?

My pulse pounds in my ears, and I straighten back up. I’ve circled my usual route, and I’m back in the main square. I’ll grab some breakfast for McKenzie and go back to her place. Maybe being around her will help chase the demons away for a little while.

I slow my breathing as I head for the small café tucked in the corner lot. River and I used to meet here all the time. We practically grew up here. Back then, it was run by Polly, who loved us like we were her own children. McKenzie told me she retired a few years ago. I’ll have to stop in and see her before I leave town.

I step into the café and take a deep breath of cool air from the A/C unit. When I get up to the counter, I order something for me and McKenzie, and as I’m stepping back to wait, I hear my name called softly from a table behind me.

My stomach knots just like it did when I saw River in the hospital yesterday. We used to talk about everything, but now I feel like I can’t get a word out when I think about him. I just have no fucking idea what to say to him.

River’s sitting in a back booth, dressed once again in those dark-blue scrubs. His hair’s wet like he just took a shower, and his ID badge for the hospital is clipped to his scrub top.

“You okay?” he asks. His voice is so normal, as if we’ve been talking every day since I left. “You’re all flushed.”

“I was running.” The words come out strangled, and I clear my throat. “Do you…um…still run?”

That might be the lamest question I’ve ever asked someone. I can’t believe how awkward this feels.

His face is completely neutral when he says, “No, I run at the gym now. I don’t care much for running outside anymore.”

My throat tightens as I give him a short nod. Of course he wouldn’t run outside anymore. That’s where Ian grabbed us. Because I convinced River to go out for a run with me at one in the morning when he was sleeping over at my house. I’d just been so restless, and because of that, we experienced the worst week of our lives.

My expression must say a lot because River gives me a tired smile.

“It’s fine,” he says. “Running in an air-conditioned room is better anyway.”

I don’t respond. It doesn’t feel better to me. It feels like Ian took away something else from him.

“You want to sit with me for a minute?” River asks, indicating the empty booth across from him.

I glance at the serving counter. I’m at least three people back in line. “Okay.”

My legs are unsteady as I cross the floor and slide into the booth to face River. For a second, I’m sixteen years old again, listening to River talk about literally anything as he tries to distract me from the fact that it’s my dad’s birthday, and he’s no longer here to celebrate it.

“So.” River wraps his hands around his coffee mug. “You gonna tell me where you’ve been?”

“Seattle.”

His eyebrows lift. “You live two hours away?”

“Yeah.” I wanted to go further than that, but I also wanted to be able to get to McKenzie if she ever needed me. I didn’t want to depend on a flight to get me there.

“And you’ve never visited?” The smallest hint of anger enters his voice, and as strange as it sounds, it fills me with relief. I want River to be mad at me. I want him to scream and yell at me. Say all the things he hasn’t had the chance to say yet because I never gave him the opportunity.

“No.” I let my answer drop flat between us. I don’t want to sound remorseful; that would only placate him and soothe his anger.

But River’s face settles back into neutral. “Well, it’s nice that you’re here now.”

Somehow, it doesn’t seem like he really thinks it’s “nice” that I’m here.

I take a breath and try to think of something to say. Anything so this horrible silence between us is filled. “So a nurse? What happened to professional baseball?”

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