Page 90 of Protecting Mr. Fine

It took me a moment to catch on, but when I did, my stomach plummeted. “No,” I whispered.

I swiveled side to side as if I’d be able to somehow see my own lower back. Finally, Bear moved out of the way so I could see it in the mirror.

Last time it happened, I’d been scared.

This time for some reason, I was pissed asfuck.

“No!” I ground out. “No, they don’t get to fucking touch me. They don’t get to fucking toy with me! Who the fuck does this? Who the fuck comes into someone’s personal space…” The reality of the situation slammed into me. “They got under my clothes this time,” I breathed.

And then my breaths started coming too quickly. “I want them gone, Bear. I want them to stay away. I want to find out who’s doing this. How could they do this? Who does this?” My voice sounded hysterical, which I hated.

I didn’t want to sound hysterical. I was angry. Betrayed. Confused. And enraged.

Bear tried to reach for me, to pull me into his arms and comfort me, but I shoved him away and stepped in the shower. I was going to wash as much of it off as I could. And then I was going to figure out who the fuck had done this.

“Z.”

“I’m not upset,” I snapped. Bear furrowed his brows in confusion, so I corrected myself. “Okay, obviously I’m upset. But I don’t need comfort right now. I’m pissed. How dare they? How fucking dare they.”

I scrubbed my skin like it had betrayed me because I felt like it had. Did I not have enough situational awareness to notice when someone lifted up my shirt and inked my fucking bareskin?

Jesus fuck. Who was so oblivious that?—

“Stop.”

Bear’s deep grumble was so calm it made tears smart in my eyes. I couldn’t look at him, couldn’t talk to him about this, really, because I knew he felt responsible. The worst part about all of this was the guilt he would feel for failing me.

“This isn’t your fault, Bear,” I said desperately. “You probably weren’t even there.”Fuck!That wasn’t what I’d meant. “They’re obviously slick. They obviously created chaos sufficient enough to do this without me noticing.”

I could hear the panic in my voice, so I quickly closed my mouth and concentrated on scrubbing.

Bear yanked the soap out of my hand. It slipped from his grip and went shooting loudly across the tiles, banging like a tossed marble ball on its way toward the drain.

“Honey, take a breath.”

I inhaled quickly, accidentally sucking in shower water. I coughed and snorted. I couldn’t even breathe right.

Bear gathered me quickly into his arms and lifted me up to press my back against the frigid walls. I winced before sinking into him, curling around him and letting him hold me tightly.

I cried angry tears. For the asshole who had ruined my perfect night. For the motherfucker who had dared to violate me. For the actual mother whose abandonment all those years ago had finally begun to sleep peacefully in the grave I’d made for her in my mind.

“I had a song for you,” I finally admitted in a small voice. “I’m sorry I didn’t sing it.”

Bear pulled back and cupped my face, keeping my back and ass pressed against the tile. “For me? I assumed I was the grizzly in your song.”

I smiled through my snotty, swollen face. “You were. You are. But that one wasn’t written for you. I wrote one for you.”

“Yeah?” He asked, the edges of his lips quirking up. “Why didn’t you sing it?”

“Chickened out.”

He leaned in and kissed me, tender at first but then more hungrily. I let myself enjoy it. Let myself float away on the fantasy he offered. Let myself feel every caress and stroke of his big hands on my body.

Until I realized he was rubbing a hole into the skin of my lower back with his thumb.

“Let me go,” I said, wriggling out of his grip.

“Sorry,” he said. “I was trying to get it off.”

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