Page 17 of Beautiful Defiance

I hurry to the Soup Kitchen and order soups and sandwiches. I also stop by the mini-mart and buy pints of ice cream in different flavors in case Leigh’s craving sweets.

At her place, I put the ice cream in the freezer, then head inside the bedroom. Moonlight shines in through the parted curtains. Leigh is sleeping facing the wall. The covers are bunched near her waist, and her hair is pulled off to the side and draped over her shoulder. Did her fever return?

So as not to wake her, I skim my fingers down her neck. She’d taken off her sweatshirt, leaving her in her tank top. Her skin is warm but not overly feverish. I stop touching her and inch back. The tattoo at the base of her neck catches my eye.

It’s a heart spliced in half by a solid black line, the line extending above and below the heart. I trace the outline of the heart and the intersecting solid line.

“Symbols of my life.”

Leigh awake doesn’t catch me off guard. The moment I touched her neck, she’d awoken. The nerves on my fingertips were aware of every hitch in her breathing.

“I only see a heart, Leigh.”

“Look closer.”

I do, and it hits me what they are. “Backward Ds.”

“Dismay. Disloyal. Destruction. Disillusioned. I’ve been and seen all that and more.”

“Leigh.” I go to stroke her hair, then think better of it.

What she named off is what I don’t want in my life. It’s best I leave those things to live inside her, to have it inked on her skin, not seen by her eyes, but never to be removed either without it causing her pain.

“Don’t feel sorry for me.”

“I couldn’t care less what you’ve been or seen.” Not true. I don’t want to care too much.

She rolls onto her back and pushes herself up into a sitting position. She moans and closes her eyes.

“Ugh, too fast.”

I plop down next to her on the bed. “You okay to eat?”

“Yes.” She leans into me.

“I can bring the food in here.”

“The kitchen is fine. Can you stick close by in case I get dizzy?”

“Yeah, sure.”

She rises slowly to her feet, waits a few seconds, and then shuffles out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. The hallway isn’t wide enough for two people to walk side by side. I hang back with my hands near her waist in case I need to grab her if she decides to keel over and kiss the floor.

At the kitchen table, I rush around her and pull out a chair, being careful not to brush my hulking body on her slight form. It’d be my luck for Leigh to get this far only for me to kill her progress with an accidental body check.

I open the containers of soup and set Leigh’s in front of her. “Ask and you shall have.”

What the fuck came out of my mouth? I’m a moron. But not a pussy-whipped moron. Huge difference. After I make sure Leigh won’t keel over sideways and fall out of her chair, I grab plates from the cupboard and set our sandwiches on them. I put the plate in the center of the table. She tips her head back in the direction of the fridge.

“Help yourself to juice and soda.”

“I’m good, thanks.”

We eat in silence. While she’s occupied with her soup, I discreetly check out her living space. Small tan couch. White square coffee table. A television mounted on the wall. Tall palm-like plants next to the large windows on either side of the front door.

The place is a decent size for one person, and spotless. Points to Leigh. Good luck finding anything in my room.

“When did you move in?”

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