Page 56 of Soul Bound

I’m not prepared to find her sitting on the floor of the tub with her knees pulled tightly to her chest. Her head rests on her knees and her arms wrap around herself. The water beats down on her thick dark hair, plastering it to her forehead and shoulders.

She has never looked this vulnerable. Winslow is anything but helpless, but here she sits, looking tiny and defenseless.

She would hate it if she knew I was thinking that about her right now.

I know she’s not weak—she’s proved to be anything but.

Sometimes people forget the strongest people have weak moments, they have moments when they just need to break, and this is Winslow’s.

I notice her skin has turned red, and I put my hand under the water to find it’s scalding. “Shit!” I reach for the temperature control and turn it way down. I have no idea how she’s been able to sit under the blazing spray as long as she has. “Winslow!”

Finally, her head jerks up and she blinks a couple of times like she’s just now realizing I’m standing there. Water droplets stick to her thick dark lashes as she looks at me.

“The water is a million degrees! What are you doing in here?” I ask.

She looks at me confused. “I didn’t even feel it. I don’t feel anything right now…”

A pain in my chest I’ve never felt before hits me. “Okay sweetheart, let’s get you out of here.” I turn off the water and reach for a white towel that hangs on a hook by the door. I hold the towel between my two hands and wrap it tightly around her shoulders. “Can you stand, or do you want me to pick you up?”

“I can stand,” she says softly. She slowly rises to her feet, but when she goes to step over the ledge of the tub she wobbles slightly. I decide not to risk it and scoop her up before she has a chance to fall. I know she’s in a bad headspace because she doesn’t even fight me when I carry her out of the bathroom. Winslow would usually bitch me out for‘manhandling’her.

I like that Winslow. I like her fire.

This Winslow worries me and my wolf.

I set her on the bed and quickly return to the bathroom to grab another towel. I carefully towel dry her hair, not wanting her to go to bed with a sopping wet head. She sits there, holding the other towel tight to her chest. When I’m satisfied her hair is dry enough, I drop the towel on the ground.

Moving across the room, I find the backpack she had packed her clothes in. I rummage around until I find a pair of underwear and a T-shirt for her to wear to sleep in.

I try to keep things modest for her when I pull the shirt over her head and guide her arms through the sleeves. She’s already feeling vulnerable, I don’t need to make it worse. I leave the towel around her waist, so it covers her lower half. I kneel in front of her and with care, I take her ankle to guide her foot into the leg of her panties.

My blood runs cold when I see her ankles have the same scars as her wrists. I’ve thought it before, but it’s even clearer to me now these scars are restraint marks. I lean down and press a soft kiss to the scar that wraps around the ankle I’m holding. I look up and find her staring back at me, her expression is the softest I’ve ever seen it. There are no walls up, she’s not guarding herself right now—not like she usually is.

I pull her panties up to her knees and instruct her to stand so she can pull them up the rest of the way. Once she’s dressed, I take the discarded towel from her and add it to the floor next to the other one.

I leave her only for a second to go grab the medical supplies I bought earlier. I work quickly, cleaning the bullet graze on her cheek. I don’t think it even needs the bandages I had bought, so I leave it uncovered.

“Let’s get you into bed.” I pull back the comforter and wait for her to climb in. Again, there is no fight from her. She just does what she’s asked.

I pull the blankets up around her like I would if I were tucking in a child. She curls up on her side and snuggles deep into the bed. I linger for a second watching her before I go to turn off the lights and leave.

But her soft voice stops me. “Do you think he’s going to haunt me? I know it’s a stupid question, but it’s a real possibility for me.”

I sit down on the edge of the bed by her feet. “No, I don’t think he’s stupid enough to spend any more time around you. I think he learned his lesson the first time.”

“I don’t regret killing him. I mean, I feel some remorse for taking a human life in general, but I don’t regret killing him. How fucked up is that?”

“It was either you kill him, or he kills you.” I lay a reassuring hand on her hip. “You did what you had to do to live.”

“I keep thinking about the terror I felt when he was on top of me and I couldn’t move. Do you think that’s the same kind of terror the women at the facility felt?”

“Probably,” I tell her honestly.

“Okay, then I don’t feel bad for what I did.” She sounds resolved when she speaks.

“You shouldn’t.” I stand from the bed and turn to leave.

“I’m going to leave the door open tonight,” I tell her, pausing at the threshold of my room. “Come get me if you need anything. Goodnight Winslow.”

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