This one-bedroom apartment was one of the largest we had to offer, but it still wasn’t that big. Maybe five hundred square feet or so. But she’d turned it into a cute home. Everywhere I looked was something so her, I could see why she wanted to stay here rather than at my place. The couch was a deep green velvet that looked like she would sink into it when she sat. And on the end table at one end sat a water bottle, a book, and a blanket. Probably just as she’d left it the day she’d gone to the poker club.
I pictured her sitting there reading that book, but with me sitting next to her with her feet in my lap and my hands running up and down her long, bare legs. I inwardly groaned. Apparently, I wasn’t going to keep my mind out of the gutter no matter what I did, but for her sake I would continue to try. It was the least that she deserved.
The coffee table held little more than a couple of well used candles, a lighter, and a remote control for her television. I pictured her there much like she’d been sitting in my cabin this evening with that bowl of popcorn but quietly reading her book instead of struggling to find something on the TV to entertain her. I made a mental note to have some of the girls pick out some new books for her on my online account and have them shipped in.
The kitchen was of course spotless. She liked to bake, and used a kitchen well, but she never left a mess behind. Ever. In fact, for an apartment that had been empty for so long, this one looked too clean. As if… “Has someone been using your apartment while you were gone?”
“No.But the girls have taken turns coming over to water my plants and bring in the mail.”
“I guess they’ve been keeping it clean too. This place is pristine.”
She looked over her shoulder at me. “You’re just used to living in a bachelor pad and a male dominated clubhouse. I hear it’s hard as hell to keep those places clean with the way you constantly party and rotate women in and out of your beds. I guess it’s a full-time job.”
“One that we pay well for and expect our employees not to discuss.” I hated to think what other “war stories” the girls shared. Though I couldn't really complain. They understood club matters stayed between them, and several of the brothers could rival any gossip queen out there. Although they might like to kick my ass for thinking so.
She smirked at me and rolled her eyes.
“We’re men,” I responded, leaving it at that because that was as good an explanation as any as far as I was concerned. I paid my people for a job well done, so any of the employees who took care of the shit assigned to them were generously compensated for it.
“I’m just going to be a minute. I’ll grab another bag and be ready as quickly as I can.”
“Take whatever time you need. I’ve got nowhere to be.”
She studied me, and I wasn’t sure what was going on in that brain of hers, but I didn’t hate having her eyes on me for a change. What was probably only about ten seconds later, but felt much longer, she shook her head, turned away and disappeared into the adjoining bedroom.
Too curious to stay still, I followed to the doorway and propped myself against the frame so I could watch. “Do you need some help?”
She popped her head out of the small closet and met my gaze. “No.I’ve got it.”
“Do they still hurt?” I asked, trusting that she knew exactly what I was talking about. I could guess why she’d put on those pajamas and I doubted it had anything to do with comfort so much as it did covering up the scars that crisscrossed her back.
I hated the idea of her being self-conscious around me or her friends, but I couldn’t really blame her either. Her body had been altered in a way that would forever draw attention. And I dared say not all of that attention would be welcome or kind.
My stomach churned at the idea. Here’s hoping no one dared to show their disrespect in front of me. That urge to squeeze the life out of someone roared back with a vengeance and threatened my control. I wasn’t sure I would ever get past the need to make someone pay for what had happened to her until the traitor in my club was identified and punished. At my hand.
I opened and closed my fist repeatedly in an attempt to ease the tension suddenly flooding through me.
“Not too much, really,” she said as she went back to digging in her closet. “When I did the exercises with Jeanne earlier some of the stretches were uncomfortable. But it’s supposed to be good for me, so she made me do it anyway.”
I was happy to hear that her and Jeanne had connected earlier, and that it had been productive. From everything I’d heard and seen thus far, our new medic was making an excellent addition to the team.
“I didn’t mean to yell at you the other day,” I said softly, or as softly as a hard man like me could. “I just didn’t expect to see youon the floor like that and I was worried it might cause a problem. I was under the impression that you needed more rest.”
She popped out, pulling a suitcase on wheels along with her. “You aren’t the first person to be freaked out, and I’m sure you won’t be the last.”
Her words fired through my blood, making me step forward into her room.
“I’m not freaked out. That’s not what I meant at all.”
She stood still, us both staring at the other, an arc of electricity sizzling through the room. Seeing her scars hurt me in a way I could never explain. Not because they repulsed me though. Never that.
“Okay,” she whispered so quietly I barely heard her.
“Show me,” I said, my voice tight with the tension coiled inside me.
“Why? Didn’t you see enough already?” she whispered, her voice suddenly breathy.
“Because I need to see the full extent of what I did to you. I need to understand.”