Page 58 of Bleed for Me

Just seeing her standing there with her lip tugged beneath her teeth, her skirt so short it revealed her tan lines, and the curve of her bust beneath that tight-fitting top, it had me thinking things I shouldn’t be. Her appearance alone made her tempting. She was an Eve. Sent here to corrupt men and convince them to follow her into temptation.

Eve.

It was a fitting nickname.

She finally spoke, her soft voice slicing through my thoughts like butter. “I’d like to.” She shifted from one foot to the other. “I’m just not sure if Dr. Blake will approve it.”

“You’re my assistant,” I reminded her. “That will hold some weight.”

She perked up at that. “Then yes.” She beamed. She seemed more collected than the last time I’d seen her, like a weight had been pulled from her shoulders. “Where is the retreat at? What will we do?”

I motioned for her to have a seat. Unless she had friends she wanted to run off to, there was nowhere else for her to be. I had her schedule, including the art class she’d signed up for which wasn’t for another six days if you counted today.

She let the door close behind her, clearly not realizing that she’d closed us both in this very secluded office. She crossed the room, sinking down in the chair adjacent to me and glancedat me through long, dark lashes expectantly. My heart thudded rapidly against my chest. The last time I’d been completely secluded with a pretty girl, she ended up gagging on my dick while I gave her a ride home from the bar. I had to remind myself that was five years ago and this was a different life now. Plus, Rosalie was a patient here. It was practically forbidden.

“Sir?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

I realized then that I’d been so wrapped up in my thoughts, the girl probably thought I was checking her out. Which wasn’t far off, but I’d been zoned out, not even realizing that I’d been staring into her soul.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, shaking my head to rid my thoughts of lust. “The retreat is a weekend long as I mentioned. There are cabins that will be rented out. I’m not sure how many since I don’t have a head count, yet. The purpose of the retreat is to get closer to Christ through nature. It’s like camping.” I paused. “Have you ever been camping, Rosalie?”

A pained smile crossed her face, and her eyes grew distant like she was reliving something painful. Immediately, I regretted asking. “I have,” she admitted. “It was one of my sister’s favorite things to do.”

My chest tightened with her words. She’d accidentally murdered her sister when in a blind rage out of self-defense. It truly was a fucked-up situation.

“I’m sorry,” I replied with uncertainty.

She came here because it was an escape, a way for her to cope with the trauma she’d had thrust upon her. While my question was innocent, it was easy to forget where I was sometimes. Anything could be a trigger for someone. That’s why it was important to refrain from getting too comfortable around the patients. Did I think she’d snap and attack me for it? No. But had I brought up something traumatic for another patient, that was a very real possibility.

“It’s okay.” She forced a smile, the pain still shining back at me through her expressive eyes. “What were you saying?”

Clearing my throat, I attempted to sort through my thoughts. “We’ll do bonfires, hiking, there’s a natural spring in the woods we can swim at, and we’ll talk about God.”

“Swimming?” she repeated, her eyebrows dipping as she mulled that over.

I nodded. “Don’t worry about swimwear. We receive donations and have a lot of that stuff stocked up, since, you know…no one swims here.” For some reason, people send us clothes for the patients and include swimwear, too. Probably just wanting to get rid of things they have no use for anymore.

“Clothes?” she repeated, sucking her lower lip between her teeth again. “Are there any currently available?”

“I’m sure there are. If you want to write down your name, size, and what you need, I can snag some for you.”

Relief washed over her face. What kind of life did she live that had her so excited over some second-hand clothes? Part of me wanted to ask, but I knew it wasn’t any of my business. I reached over and grabbed a small package of sticky notes, ripping one from the rest and placed it in front of her with a pen.

She was silent as she wrote down the information, her blonde hair tumbling in front of her shoulders. When she was finished, she pushed it over to me, but I made no move to grab it or to even look at it just yet. If she wrote down her breast size for bras, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to hide the effect it would undoubtedly have on me. It was hard enough now just to keep from looking at her chest. Guilt pulsed through me at the unwanted thoughts. She came here because she trusted me, and I was acting like a hormonal teenage boy.

“Are you only here on Wednesdays and Sundays?” she asked.

Surprise flickered through me at the unexpected question. “Yes, why?”

She shook her head and glanced away, breaking eye-contact. “Never mind.” I was learning rather quickly, that was a nervous tick of hers. She always looked away when she was afraid to ask something or was afraid of a conversation in general.

“This is a safe space, Rosalie. You’re welcome to tell me anything. Unless of course, it’s homicidal or suicidal.”

A laugh bubbled up from her throat, sending sparks of electricity right through me. Her laugh was even sexier than her voice. “Nothing like that,” she confirmed, bringing her attention back to me. “I just like being here.” She shrugged. “It pulls me away from reality, from what happened, and helps me forget.”

My throat tightened, and it was my turn to glance away as I mulled over what she’d just confessed. It was one thing to speculate and assume that’s what she felt, but it was another for her to tell me to my face. How could I continue to be selfish when she was being open with me? It felt wrong.Inhumane.

It couldn’t hurt to spare a little more of my time, could it? It wasn’t like I had anything going on at home. Dr. Theodore wouldn’t care. He enjoyed having me around for whatever reason. Probably because my presence distracted people from what he was truly doing behind his door of horrors. Not that I actually knew what he was doing in there, but the screams were haunting. His methods were on the traditional side, that much I was sure of.

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