Page 44 of The Girl and the Cobra

The way she tilts her head up at me and pouts those lips of hers makes certain parts of me ache. “Too much?”

“That I’m not hurting you,” I whisper.

All she does is sigh again and say, “Well, then I guess we have an appointment with Dr. Wolf tomorrow.”

And that’s all we say about it. We spend the rest of the night on the couch together, with her in my arms. Just having her with me, feeling her soft skin against mine… it’s enough to keep me calm, keep me grounded.

I want… fuck. I want to make her mine. I want to take off all of her clothes and worship every square inch on that body, to memorize the way her skin tenses beneath my touch, to hear her sigh out my name like a soft prayer. I want to lose myself in her. I want it more than anything.

But, as much as I’d love to pin her down, I won’t push her. I can’t. When she’s ready, she’ll tell me.

Eventually, Mabel falls asleep, and it’s up to me to take her to her room. I cradle her in my arms and bring her upstairs, tucking her in all without turning on a single light. Even after all this time, the darkness is my home.

Once she’s tucked in, her head resting safely on her pillow, I linger a few moments more, gazing down at her as shadows swallow us both. Her head is slightly tilted to the side, away from me, allowing me to see the smooth, soft curve of her cheek. Mabel sleeps soundly, the epitome of peaceful.

Sleeping in front of someone is one way to let the other person know you trust them completely. Never are you more vulnerable than you are when you’re asleep. You could literally die and not even be aware of it. The world could end around you while you’re stuck in dreamland, and you wouldn’t know a thing.

And here Mabel is, as vulnerable as ever, and the only thing I want to do is stand guard and make sure no one ever hurts her again.

I don’t want to leave her room, but I force myself to go. I close her bedroom door as quietly as I can, and then I lean my back against it and breathe out a full sigh. It’s strange; lately I don’teven recognize myself in the mirror. I’ve been sleeping better, eating better, and am overall in a better mood. I don’t want to destroy the entire world.

It’s weird. It’s definitely not something I’m used to. Being smitten, liking someone else to the point where they’re all I can think about; it’s more than a mere obsession. It’s life-changing.

Before I make myself go to my room to catch some sleep myself, I tug at the sleeve on my left arm and run my fingers over my sister’s name. This particular scar is one I’ve opened over and over again. The scars are thick and risen, much more so than any other on my body.

Standing there, outside her bedroom door, it’s the first time the scar doesn’t feel right. It’s the first time I regret carving Shay’s name into my skin.

I’d like to say by the time I’m in bed, that feeling has passed, but it hasn’t.

Wolf repositioned his chair so he could face both Mabel and me. Our seats are side by side. I don’t have a hold on Mabel, but as we sit there under Wolf’s watchful eyes, I realize it’s probably smart to hold back a little.

I don’t trust the asshole not to have a bag of tricks in his pocket.

Wolf holds his pen like a knife near his head as his green eyes flick between Mabel and me. No one says a word, and the seconds tick by. Mabel shifts in her seat; without looking at her, I can tell she’s a bit anxious, and I bet she’s expecting Wolf to scold us and tell us we can’t have a relationship.

“I bet you’re wondering why I wanted to see you both together,” Wolf starts the session with a knowing glint in his eyes. Mabel nods in agreement, while I simply watch him with a narrowed glare. “I wanted to discuss this.” He points at uswith his pen, moving it between us with a flick of his wrist. Wolf glances at Mabel. “Let’s dive in, then. How are you feeling, Mabel?”

Mabel shrugs once. “I feel good.”

“How much have you told Tristan about your brother?”

I watch her as her gaze falls to her lap. Talking about her brother is still not something she’s totally comfortable with, and I can’t blame her.

“He knows everything,” Mabel whispers. “What Jordan did, how many people he killed… that he killed them all for me.” Suddenly she looks up, a determined expression on her face. “And I assume you’re going to ask how much Tristan has told me.”

Wolf gestures with his hand for her to go on.

“He told me who Shay is and what he did for her.” The glance Mabel gives me after that tells me she’s worried about sharing too much with Wolf, but her worry is irrational. Wolf already knows everything.

“You know the truth about Tristan and his past, yet you do not shy away from him, as most others would. Why?” Wolf really wants to dig in; I hate how he’s focusing on Mabel, but I guess she plays a better patient than me.

Mabel bites her bottom lip. “Why would I?”

Wolf gives her a tight-lipped smile before he explains, “His crimes are reminiscent of your brother’s, both in the crimes themselves and the reason behind them. Everything he did, he did for Shay, just as you believe everything Jordan did was for you.”

“The way you say it makes it sound like it’s just an opinion I have,” Mabel shoots back. “It’s not. I know he killed them for me.”

“And how do you know that?” Wolf asks.

---