Page 7 of Lonely Heart

“I’m going to get your face cleaned up for you, so I can see how bad these cuts are.” I put my hands on her hips and lifted her onto the counter beside the sink. I flipped on the warm water, grabbed a clean washcloth, and focused my attention back on Ivy while I waited for the water to heat up.

Something passed between us. A lingering look of appreciation on her end, perhaps? On my side, I wasn’t quite sure I could explain it. I’d known Ivy for years, had seen her almost daily, yet it was like I was seeing her for the first time now.

Ivy held my stare briefly, but ultimately looked away when it got too intense. She focused on her torn shirt, pulling at the sides to cover her exposed body. Not thinking twice about it, I lifted my shirt over my head and held it out to her. “Go ahead and take that off. You can wear this for now.”

“But you?—”

“I’m fine, Ivy. I want you to be comfortable. I have extras in my truck.”

Following a tense moment of silence, Ivy took the shirt from me. As she peeled off her ruined shirt, I focused my attention on running the washcloth beneath the warm water. By the time I’d squeezed out the excess water and looked over at Ivy again, she’d gotten my shirt pulled on.

I offered a small smile as she said, “Thank you, Marco.”

Lifting the cloth to her face, I replied, “Don’t mention it.”

For the next few minutes, I worked in silence on cleaning the blood from Ivy’s face. And while I was enraged that she’d been assaulted at all, I was relieved to see that the cuts were minor enough to not need stitches.

“We should probably get some ointment on these cuts,” I suggested. “I can run down and grab it from one of the first-aid kits. And while I’m down there, I can run out and grab a T-shirt or two from my truck.”

In a move I hadn’t been expecting, Ivy’s hand immediately shot out and seized my wrist. I stopped my inspection of her face and sent her a questioning look. “What is it?”

She considered her response and shook her head. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

“Tell me,” I urged her. “Whatever it is, it’s okay.”

“I… I don’t want to be left alone,” she murmured. “And I know that’s stupid, but I’m just not ready to be alone.”

Any of the rage that had been bubbling inside me from the moment I learned the truth about what happened to her had vanished. I didn’t think it was because I wasn’t still livid that she’d gone through this. Rather, I realized my focus had to be on Ivy and what she needed now. If that meant not leaving her side until she was comfortable with it, then that’s what I’d do. “Okay. I’ll stay here. I can call down to the front desk and tell them I was working on the dryer in here and need a couple of bandages. They’ll bring me the kit without thinking twice about it.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind staying?”

I cupped the side of her face, my palm pressed lightly against her jaw. As my thumb stroked tenderly over the soft, uninjured skin there, I promised, “Not at all.”

Ivy seemed to lean into my touch, like it was exactly what she needed in that moment to feel safe and protected.

“Your hands,” she whimpered.

I froze, my body going taut as I pulled my hand away, believing she didn’t want to be touched.

Ivy’s horror-stricken gaze met mine. Her bottom lip quivered as tears filled her eyes. “Your hands are clean and safe and familiar,” she rasped. “I feel dirty. Dirty from the trash pile he threw me on and from where his filthy hands touched me. It feels wrong. It feels gross.”

If I ever saw this guy, if I ever had the chance to be alone with him in a room for even a minute, I was going to make him wish he’d never laid a finger on this beautiful woman. “Do you want a bath or a shower? You can wash all of that off. I’ll wait just outside the door for you.”

“You won’t leave, will you?”

“No, Ivy, I’m not leaving you. I promise.”

Her eyes roamed over my face, something I couldn’t quite read swirling in the depths of her blue irises. Maybe it was that she had far too many emotions moving through her that there wasn’t just one that could make its way to the surface.

“I think it might help to shower,” she said.

I smiled reassuringly at her. “Okay. Is there anything you want me to do, other than to wait for you to finish?”

She shook her head.

“What about food? Have you had any dinner?”

“No.”

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