Page 68 of Love Without Control

But my answer never changed. No.

“Good morning. How was your shower?” Dane asked from beside the stove where he was scrambling eggs. Shirtless.

“It was good.”

He plated the eggs and pulled a pan of bacon from the oven before dividing the slices between two square white plates. “They had some nice fruits at the market,” he said, carrying our food to the breakfast bar and setting them down. “The pineapple is really sweet.”

Orange and pineapple slices had been arranged around plump purple grapes on a blue-and-white floral platter, and I loaded my plate with fruit. “Thank you for breakfast. I would have cooked.”

“You always overcook the eggs,” he muttered, sitting on the stool beside me. He wasn’t wrong.

After we finished eating and were cleaning the kitchen, my eyes dropped to the white bandage he’d been wearing on his chest the past few days. The top edge was peeling up.

“I’m sorry about that,” I said, nodding at where he’d covered my fingernail marks on his skin the day after my first nightmare. I hadn’t thought they were bad enough to require a bandage, but maybe… “Are you keeping it clean? You probably need to change this bandage.”

I reached for it, and he took a step back, smoothing the tape back down. “It’s fine.”

My eyes narrowed, and I matched his backward step with a forward one of my own. “Don’t be a baby. Let me look.”

Dane’s eyes rolled, and he dropped his hand. “Fine. You’re going to see it at some point anyway.”

Giving him a curious look, I swiftly peeled the bandage off his chest to reveal—What the hell is that?

The fingernail marks were practically invisible, just tiny, pale crescents now. But above each one were marks in the same precise shape, only these were inked.

“Are those tattoos?” He didn’t speak, merely nodded, his eyes wary. “Why did you get tattoos of my fingernails?”

“They’re… tattoos of your pain and your fear.” His brown eyes were solemn when he looked down at me. “I can’t take those things away from you, but I can carry a part of them with me.”

Tears pooled on my bottom eyelids and then broke free, making a downward trek over my cheeks. The tats, the long nights beside my bed, the grim set of his mouth… all of that told me he was determined to help in any way he could, but my stubborn ass wasn’t allowing him to.

I kissed his new ink, each of the five replicas of my own fingernails, before wrapping my arms around his bare torso and hugging him.

My words were spoken softly, but I knew he heard them because I felt the tension practically flow from his body.

“I’ll talk to someone.”

Chapter 22

SIXMONTHSINHIDING

“Good session today, Eden. You’re doing really well.”

I smiled into the phone, feeling better than I had since my abduction in March, six months ago. I hadn’t even realized everything I was carrying inside until I started these phone sessions with my psychiatrist. She was a pro at drawing the repressed feelings out of me and giving me the tools to deal with each one.

“Thank you, Lilibet. It’s been weeks since I had a nightmare,” I bragged.

“That makes me so happy. I’ll talk to you again next week, okay?”

“Sounds good.”

“And remember—”

“Do whatever it takes to feel safe,” I parroted. That was how she ended every session with me.

Her laugh sounded like tinkling bells, and I wasn’t sure how I could like someone so much even though I’d never actually met her. “You’re learning, dear,” Lilibet sang before we said our goodbyes and hung up.

Jamie had recommended Dr. Lilibet Lynch after Dane called her and told her about my nightmares. The two had gone to med school together, and Jamie often called on the woman when one of their “clients” needed help.

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