Page 35 of Science Project

Even if I told Akio, what could he do about it? He was the sweetest guy I knew and didn’t have a bad bone in his body. He couldn’t save me from the torture that Dad and his buddies put me through every night.

“Nicole,” Akio said again.

“Please, drop it.” I sniffled. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

While Akio didn’t relax, he didn’t push it any further. Instead, he gripped me tighter and drew his fingers through my hair in soothing circles. I closed my eyes, my face stinging from where I had dragged my nails across it, but it didn’t hurt as bad as my pussy did.

Not even close.

Akio held me and held me and held me until my eyes were so heavy that I couldn’t hold them open any longer.

And the last thing I heard before I drifted off into sleep was, “I’m going to protect you.”

CHAPTER

TWENTY

AKIO

My alarm woke me up at five fifty.

I slammed my hand on the Stop button so I wouldn’t wake Mom if she had returned sometime late last night and rolled off the couch. After yanking my shirt over my head, I grabbed some cream and bandages from the bathroom and headed to my bedroom.

Once I pressed my ear to the door to make sure Nicole wasn’t already up and dressing, I walked into the room and shut the door behind me. She lay in my bed, her head against my pillow and her cheeks still stained with tears.

After tucking strands of Nicole’s hair behind her ears, I sat on the edge of my bed and squeezed some cream onto my finger. The cuts on her face from her fingernails were deeper than I’d originally thought they were, and there was blood.

A lot of it.

I gently pulled off the bandages I’d placed on them last night and dabbed the cream on the cuts to moisturize them so they’d heal faster, until each one of them was covered with a glob of ointment. Then, I fastened some new, very small gauze pads over the wounds.

Nicole loved keeping up with her appearance, and I didn’t want her to see what she had done to her face last night. It hadn’t even seemed like it hurt her. She had sunk her nails into her head and pulled as if she wanted to rip off her face.

My chest tightened at the thought of her wanting to do that to herself.

Of anyone wanting to do that to themselves.

In the middle of me covering her last wound, Nicole fluttered her eyes open. I stiffened for a moment because I hadn’t wanted her to see me.

Last time I’d cleaned someone’s wounds was when I was five. Mom had come home and passed out on the couch, bleeding everywhere. I cleaned them up the best I could, but accidentally used the wrong cream on her. Instead of Mom being grateful that I’d tried to help, she’d beaten me for using the wrong cream on her face and accidentally making it worse.

“You look tired,” Nicole whispered, glancing over at the empty bed. “Did you sleep?”

“On the couch, downstairs.”

“Why not with me?” she asked.

“Because.”

While I had thought about sliding into my bed and holding her like I had dreamed about doing for years now, I had decided that would be crossing a line. I didn’t know Nicole on that level and hadn’t wanted to do anything wrong.

After all, I was just the kid she was using to get a good grade.

Her lips quivered, yet she pressed them together. “You really didn’t sleep with me?”

“No.”

“You’re …”

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