Page 55 of Submit
Her face is pale, and her lips are blue tinged with red from them being stretched to their splitting point. Her eyes are shimmery with her tears, and her beautiful chocolate hair is knotted and matted to her head. She looks like death, yet still she raises her arm and reaches out for me.
“Bunny.”
“Don’t go.” She says weakly. “Please.”
Her plea breaks what’s left inside of me. The monster slinks away, and the man in me falls to his knees at her bedside, burying his face in the bloody sheets.
I cry big, fat tears. I cry for her, her sister, what she’s been through, and what I’ve done. It’s too much, way more than one single person should feel, and as Max continues to tend to her broken body, she caresses my head and tends to my broken heart.
“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” I weep, feeling the adoration in her touch. “But I’m scared to touch you. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You could never hurt me, Sir.” She says, clearing her voice, trying to strengthen her words in her crackling throat. “I love you, and I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too.”
“Touch me please.” She asks, her voice breaking through a small sob. “I want your touch to replace his.”
“Where?” I ask, looking up at her, seeing her forcing a smile, trying to be brave for me, when it should be me being brave for her.
“Anywhere. Everywhere.”
Her forehead is cool to the touch as I brush a lock of her hair from her face, and I want to cover her with a blanket, but fuck, the feel of it on her would be excruciating.
“What can I do to help?”
“Kiss me.” She says, forcing another smile, making her bottom lip split again.
A tiny drop of blood seeps from the cut, and I bend over her and gently lick it away. She purses her lips and kisses my tongue, and I open my mouth, and kiss her deeply, trying not to put any pressure on the rest of her body.
It’s like a homecoming, feeling her mouth on mine, tasting her, giving her my breath as I steal hers. It’s right even though everything around us is wrong.
“I love you.” I say into her mouth.
“I love you too,”
I continue to give her little pecks on her lips, her cheeks, and her forehead as Max does his work.
“She’s gonna need stitches.” He says, looking at the both of us for permission.
“Do it.” She says, reaching for my hand and pulling it to her lips kissing across my knuckles. “I have Daddy. I’ll be okay.”
With a silent nod, I confirm her decision to Max and wrap my other hand around hers that cling to me. If nothing else I can be here to support her and get her through it while he closes up the deepest of her lacerations.
Max works on her for over an hour, carefully stitching the biggest cuts, and cleaning her up as he goes. I try to help, but he just bats me away and reminds me to just be with her, even though she’s in and out of consciousness from the pain and exhaustion.
When he’s finally done, and she is bandaged up, he leaves the room silently, patting my shoulder on his way out.
“Hey Max.” I call out to him as he steps over the threshold of the doorway.
“Yeah?”
“Your knife.” I say, taking the weapon from my pocket and holding it out to him.
“Keep it.”
With a nod of thanks, I put it back in my pocket and turn my attention back to Millie. Her eyes are open and she smiles at me, grabbing my hand and lacing it on her chest over one of the largest whip marks that’s now hidden under the white bandage.
“I need you to touch me.”
