Page 31 of Reine's Salvation

Chapter Thirteen

“Reine,” Mystique called after him, but he didn’t reply. She flinched as she heard the lock of the adjoining bathroom turn. Mystique sighed. She looked at her wrists. Yes, they were a bit bruised. Gingerly, she touched her shoulders. She winced. There was no doubt the sex had been passionate, but she had been honest when she’d told Reine she’d enjoyed it. They had been building up to that and she wouldn’t change a single minute of it.

The sound of the shower running in the bathroom reached her. She stared at the ceiling. Perhaps, she should leave. Reine was a complicated man. One moment, he was sweet and caring, and the next, he was angry and bitter. Common sense told her to stay away. He was unstable. She glanced toward the open door where she could see the living room area. It was trashed. She swallowed. She was quite certain he’d had a breakdown. She’d experienced them before. It was those moments in which everything went wrong, blood boils and all one wants to do is destroy everything in its path. He had destroyed a room, who was to say he wouldn’t attack a person? She looked back at the closed bathroom door. No, as little as she knew Reine, he didn’t seem to be that kind of person. Quite, the contrary. His anger seemed to be coming from the fact he couldn’t help anyone like he used to. She wished she could help him, but she didn’t fancy herself a hero. She didn’t believe in those stories in which women changed men into their prince charming. Besides, she didn’t want to change Reine. When he was not angry, she liked him the way he was. What she wanted to do was understand him, figure out where his rage was coming from and nip it in the bud. Part of it was certainly his arm. She’d seen the pained look he gave when his gaze landed on it or he wanted to do things and couldn’t because of it. She wanted to ask him about it, but she knew it was a delicate matter. And that was part of the problem: she didn’t want to walk on eggshells with Reine or any man. That was not life. She’d done it with her mother and she was through with that. Mystique nibbled on her lip. Yet, her gut instinct told her to hold on for a bit longer.

Mystique jumped as the bathroom door opened.

“Come here,” Reine said. He stood at the door, gloriously naked and yet with such sadness in his eyes, her own welled up. She hurried to hug him. Reine leaned his cheek against her hair and sighed.

“I’m sorry.” He tenderly kissed her forehead. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It’s not your fault. I never should have acted the way I did just now, but Mystique, I really think we shouldn’t see each other. I’m not good for you.”

Mystique tilted her head to look up at him. She caressed his face, loving the way his green eyes darkened.

“You know I’ve been with worse.”

Reine narrowed his eyes. “That’s not funny.”

She laughed as he took her hand and led her to the bathtub. Her eyes widened. He had filled it with hot water and salts.

“Get in before it gets cold,” he said.

“Is this the treatment I get for some rough sex?” She grinned and stepped into the tub. “Sign me up for another round.”

Reine smacked her ass and she squealed.

“Don’t tempt me, witch. Now move over, don’t think this is only for you.”

He entered the tub and sat down, reclining against the marble surface. He opened his legs and pointed to the space between them. Mystique sat down and leaned her head against his chest. She sighed. If this was heaven, she’d sign anywhere to remain there. Reine wrapped his arm around her leg, holding her steady. He leaned his cheek against her hair.

“When I’m around you, I forget my problems,” he said softly. “Although, some of them I remember more acutely than ever.”

“Your arm,” she stated. Mystique wrapped her fingers over his, hoping to encourage him to speak.

“You have no idea how frustrating it is to not be able to hug you with both arms. I want to hold you, to pick you up, damn it, I want to finger your pussy while I squeeze your breasts. I can only do one thing at a time.” He chuckled humorlessly. “The loss of the little things is so frustrating.”

“How long has it been?” Mystique asked.

“One year.”

“Have you considered getting a prosthetic?”

“No,” he said.

“Why? It’s been cut below the elbow. I’m not a doctor, but from what I understand, you’d be eligible to have one.”

“It’s not an option.”

“Why?” she persisted. Mystique turned her head and looked at him. “You don’t get to wile out of this one, Reine. I know we hardly know each other, and I know you say you don’t want to talk about it, but I really like you. I—” She cleared her throat. Her cheeks were starting to feel hot. “I’d like to know you better.” She cupped his face. Reine grabbed her hand and brushed his lips across her bruised wrist. His eyes darkened, sadness present in their depths.

“I deserve to carry my shame. I am not worthy of a prosthetic.”

Mystique bit back the first thought that came to her mind. That’s ridiculous. She didn’t know a worthier man. He’d almost died to try and save two people he didn’t know.

“Because of your job,” she said instead. “Because you feel like you can’t protect people.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t quite know what you do.” She smiled. “You never told me the specifics and I thought you were joking about being a secret agent until you tried to help those people at the cinema, but wouldn’t having a prosthetic have the opposite effect? Wouldn’t it allow you to help?”

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