Page 115 of Wolf

He grunts and says, “You want a shower, right?”

“You? They sent you?” I’m not trying to be a bitch but come on. The last thing I want to endure is Wolf undressing me and helping me dispose of the bloody pad between my goddamn legs.

“No one else is here,” he grits between his teeth. When I don’t say anything because I’m still working out the problem in my head, he says, “You want a shower or not?”

I cross my arms which is a mistake because a shard of pain ricochets through my chest and as Wolf turns away to walk toward the door, I blurt, “Yes. Yes, I want a shower.”

My desperation to cleanse my body of the loss clearly overpowers my embarrassment because the words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.

Wolf spins on his heels and approaches. When he bends down to pick me up, I grit my teeth. Thankfully, I just took my pain meds because what could have been excruciating has dialed down to horrible as he carries me into the bathroom and sets me on the toilet.

After turning on the shower, he grabs two towels from below the sink. With my head bowed, I can’t see his expression and if I had an ounce of energy in my trembling frame, I’d send him away and do it myself.

Instead, I lift my arms when he says, “Up.”

He pulls the shirt gently over my head. After he helps to remove the binding from my ribs.

Next, he helps me to stand and pulls my pants to my ankles. I bite my lip when he pauses, staring at the bloody pad.

A weird sound emits from his throat and with my humiliation complete, I stare at the wall while he disposes of it.

“Ready?” he rasps, and I nod, wiping the tears from my cheeks.

He walks from the bathroom, and I smile humorlessly. Maybe he came to his senses finally and I can get this over with, with someone else’s help.

But no, he returns with a folding chair which he places in the shower before lifting me gently once more and setting me on the cool metal.

I don’t care though and lean my head into the spray, welcoming the water as it washes over my body.

To my shock, he steps into the shower, and I come face to face with his penis. He’s here with me. Naked.

Holy shit.

He proceeds to soap up his hands before running them over my skin. The soft caress feels good against my muscles, and I tip my head back as he gently washes me.

Over my torso, under my armpits, down my legs, he goes, even washing between my toes. He hesitates between my legs, and I hold back tears as he pushes them gently open and cleans me down there.

When I peek through my lids, I see he’s flaccid and with a sad smile, I close them once more. Would I be shocked or angry if he were enjoying this? I don’t know but I suspect any arousal he felt for me in the past is now dead, buried, and decomposing.

The only sounds are our breaths as he washes my hair and helps me to rinse. Despite knowing that he hates my guts, this cleansing was the nicest thing he’s ever done for me, and the tears hidden by the water are not just for the loss of my baby but what could have been in a different time and place.

“Hold on,” he says and disappears from the shower. I sit under the warm water, slowly cooling, and exhale quietly.

When he pulls back the curtain, he’s mostly dry and wearing a pair of boxers. My eyes roam over his chest, stopping on the rose tattoo as he turns the water off and grabs a towel.

“Can you bend your neck?” he rasps, and I lean forward as best I can while he wraps the towel around my hair.

Next, he dries me off with the second towel before lifting me into his arms and setting me back down on the bed. I noticesomeone changed the sheets and with a sigh, I collapse against the pillow, shaking and exhausted.

“Lift. One more time,” he says, and I open my eyes, meeting his stare.

For once the pretty orbs don’t glitter with hate as he helps me into one of his t-shirts.

When he pulls the fabric down my waist, he pauses on the bruising around my ribs.

With a feather-light touch, he traces the wound and I suck in a breath, not because it hurts but still, he moves away quickly.

Crouched beside me, he stares at his feet and says, “Lilli?”

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