Page 20 of Bleed for Me

Not anymore.

I wondered what he meant by that, but didn’t want to pry in case he had some kind of religious trauma.

The rest of the questions were just as basic. Asking if we prayed, if we meditated, what made us want to reach out to God in the first place, and so on. In no time, we were done. I placed the paper face down on the table, setting the pencil on top of it.

“Have you had a tour around the place, yet?” Archer questioned, leaning back in his seat.

“No.”

He nodded thoughtfully, twirling the pencil between his long fingers. “I can show you around if you want.”

My gaze snagged on the tattoos coating his knuckles and trickling up the length of his toned arm. If he stepped foot in my church back in Northbrook, the women there would clutch their pearls and drown him in holy water. That thought almost had a laugh bubbling out of me.Almost.An air of darkness surrounded him, but when he spoke, it was smooth, contrasting against my initial impression and leaving me more confused. But then the things he said…about my skirt. It was difficult to get a read on him.

Did I want him to give me a tour? What if he cornered me in a secluded area where no one was around and did whatever hewanted to me? Then again, if I remained cautious when it came to everyone here, I’d never have any friends. Not that I needed them, but it would make this entire situation more bearable.

“Sure,” I finally said. “But I don’t know when they plan on letting me out of my prison cell.” I rolled my eyes at that last part.

“When did you get here?” He shifted closer to me, his arm grazing mine, making electricity prickle over my skin from the small touch.

“Four days ago.” Though, it felt like two weeks already.

We continued talking back and forth for the next ten minutes, neither of us caring to get into the deeper topics, which I was thankful for. Afterwards, Ms. Clarissa didn’t take me to my room right away, explaining that it was visitation day and that someone had come to visit me. I preferred Ms. Gloria over her. Clarissa was young, too, but the way she looked at me was with judgment—like she was so much better than me.

She led me into a room with tables and vending machines set up all over. It didn’t take long for me to spot my mom. For once, she was dressed in a pair of jeans and a shirt of her own. Her hair was still unkempt, but it was progress.

When my gaze bounced over to the person beside her, my heart rate increased, and a smile broke out across my face. I hurried over to them, my gaze focused on Alex more than my mom.

“We brought you something.” Alex grinned, holding out a caramel frappe. “It was a lot of work trying to get this in here.”

I laughed and took it, placing my lips to the straw immediately. A satisfied moan tore from my throat as the cold drink coated my tongue and encouraged my tastebuds. Alex’s face flushed, probably from the sounds I was making, but I couldn’t find it in me to care. It had been so long since I’d had one of these.

“You look well,” Mom said with a tight smile.

I narrowed my eyes, Archer’s words echoing around my skull. “What’s with the clothes?” I demanded, motioning to my body for emphasis.

She had the audacity to look surprised. It was no secret that our relationship was strained at best. There was no motherly love, no maternal instincts from her, nothing but her own selfish desires. I still loved her, because cutting off family was much easier said than done, but if she had chosen my outfits with some kind of screwed up ulterior motive, I was done.

“I thought they were cute,” she defended. “Is there a dress code here? Is that why you’re upset?” She glanced around the room, presumably to find a sign with the wordsdress codeimprinted on it in bold font.

I sighed, my shoulders dropping. “No. There’s not a dress code. It’s just…” I trailed off.

Alex reached across the table, taking my hand in his. There was no spark when our skin made contact, no electricity, nothing that made my heart skip a beat. It was just simple contact—no different from when my mom touched me, or when a stranger did.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, genuine concern flickering across his face.

Part of me didn’t want to tell them. It would make Alex freak out and if it were truly something innocent on my mom’s end, I didn’t want her to feel bad about it. But the only way to know for sure was if I said something. If she didn’t bring me new clothes, I’d have my answer.

I leaned forward, bracing my forearms on the table. “Someone told me that my skirt might be distracting for some people. He basically insinuated that it could get me—” I glanced away, not wanting to finish the rest of that sentence. Hopefully they could fill in the blanks.

Alex’s eyes flashed with fury and my mom just stared at me in astonishment. I took another sip of my beverage and leaned back in my seat again, tightening my grip around Alex’s hand in an attempt to reassure him.

“Another patient told you this?” he asked.

“Yeah, but it came from a good place.”I think. Hopefully.

Alex scoffed. “Don’t be naïve, Rosie. You’re smarter than that and you know it.”

I sighed and nodded. He was probably right. Maybe Archer had been including himself in that statement, but didn’t want to scare me off by telling me that.

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