Page 166 of The Wishing Game

Taking his hand, I bring it to my breasts, then I press it to my back, right above the swell of my ass before lowering it slowly.

"They touched you here?" His voice vibrates, an unnatural growl coming from him.

I nod.

"Fuck! Fuck, Luce. And I wasn't here for you," he rasps, his features anguished.

"You're here now. That's all that matters."

"I'm sorry." He bends his head down. "I'm so fucking sorry it took me so long to come."

"How can you say that?" My eyes widen. "You were in a coma, Nikki."

"I should have been more careful. If only I hadn't gotten in that accident. If only I hadn't left my house that day..." he trails off, and I notice the regret mirrored in his eyes.

"Don't," I whisper. "You're alive. To me, that's all that matters."

"Ishould have killed them," he continues as if he didn't hear anything I just said. "But I'm going to kill that bastard Sergio. He won't get away after what he's done to you. God, it's not even just your shoulder." He shakes his head as he looks me up and down. "The calluses on your hands, the marks on your body..." he drifts off when he sees the change in my expression.

I avert my eyes.

If there's one sore subject I'm uncomfortable discussing, it's the marks on my body.

"I didn't mean it like that," he quickly amends. "You're beautiful to me, Luce. No matter what marks you have on your body. There's nothing more beautiful in this world than you."

"You're sweet to say that. But you haven't seen the rest of them. They're not just on my chest, Nikki. They're on my belly, on my hips, and on my thighs. They'reeverywhere."

"So? Do you think I care?"

"I-I don't know," I stammer.

"Ah, sweetheart. I guess I'll have to prove to you just how much I don't care. But not now. Not here. And certainly not until your shoulder is healed and you're not in pain anymore."

I blush lightly, averting my gaze.

Is this too fast? Maybe. But it's been years in the making, too. I just never dared hope that my dream would become a reality. I always held him in my mind as my one ideal—my one connection to the outside world. I might be foolish to agree so readily to everything he's offering, but it's a risk I'm willing to take. So what if I'm still not very comfortable in my own skin, or that I'm a little wary about the intimacy that takes place between a man and a woman? I trust that with his help, I'll slowly break out of my shell—no, IknowI will.

"Okay," I answer, my lips tipping up. "I just have one request."

"Hm?" he asks, returning my smile as he pushes a strand of hair behind my ear. "Anything for you."

"Can we..." I clear my throat, a little embarrassed by my request. "Can we take it slow? Physically, I mean. I'm a little scared," I admit. I know Noelle assured me that sleeping with the man you love is not the same as the violent rapes I've witnessed, yet the images will not leave my head—nor the times I've come close to being a victim too.

"Oh, Luce," he exhales pointedly. "You don't even have to ask. I'll always go at your pace," he vows. "It's going to be something new for both of us, and I want it to be equally special and comfortable for you."

I smile, pleased with his answer.

Taking a step forward, I raise myself on the tips of my toes and plant a quick kiss at the corner of his lips. Yet just as I lean back, his image starts distorting, the memory shaky.

"Nikki?" I frown, reaching out for him. Before I can touch him, I'm thrust back by an unknown force, almost as if I'm being swept in a vacuum.

Before I can blink, I find myself between four familiar walls.

THIRTY-SIX

Tears course down my cheeks as I stare at the broken mirror and the shards of glass scattered across the floor. My white dress is stained with red, blood dripping from my hands onto the lace I'd so carefully chosen for this special occasion. There is pain. But it's not just physical. There's a fire burning inside my chest that no medication could cure.

I heave loudly as sobs rack my body, my legs shaking uncontrollably until I buckle to the ground, my knees hitting the hard floor. Pieces of glass break through the surface of my skin, and a muffled cry escapes my lips as I bottle up even more pain.

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