Page 65 of Vengeful Union

Rory shakes his head, his expression completely blank. “Not my blood.”

I swallow hard. “What happened?”

Rory doesn’t answer, and before he can push me away, I start to unbutton his shirt.

He said the blood wasn’t his, but maybe he doesn’t know he’s been hit.

I’ve had plenty of experience with family members getting shot, and I don’t want to take any chances.

Rory just stands there stiffly while I take off his shirt, running my hands over his chest, his abdomen, to make sure there are no wounds.

There’s not, and I let out a breath in a rush of relief before taking his hand, leading him to the bathroom.

I have to push him down to sit him on the toilet because he’s too tall for me to reach the bruise on his face.

There’s a small cut on his cheekbone that’s trickling blood, and I dab it with a wet washcloth.

Rory still doesn’t speak. He’s too pale, and I’m starting to worry about him.

He hisses when I dab harder at the wound, trying to clean the blood.

“It’s everywhere,” I mumble, and turn on the tub faucet, letting the water run hot.

I start to add the cold, and Rory’s ragged voice stops me.

“Don’t. Want it hot.”

I bite my lip and only turn on a little cold.

The bath is still nearly scalding when it’s finished, and Rory hasn’t said a word since he told me it wasn’t his blood.

“Tell me what happened.” I cup his face with my hands, making him look at me.

His blue eyes search my face.

“No.”

“Rory,” I start, but he cuts me off by wrenching away from me.

He stands, undressing himself with trembling hands.

“You can go,” he says quietly, but his voice shakes.

I shake my head, sticking my chin out stubbornly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Rory sighs but doesn’t complain, sliding naked into the water with a low groan in the back of his throat that makes my insides twist.

I kneel next to the bathtub, taking the washcloth and passing it over his skin slowly, cleaning the blood until the water turns pink.

Rory looks down at the pink water, swallowing visibly.

“I think you need to talk about it.”

“Stop.”

“Rory.” I take his chin in my hand, forcing his eyes to mine. “Whatever you say, it won’t make me think less of you.”

“It might make you afraid.”

---