Page 77 of Releasing 10
“Clean yourself up.”
Please make it stop!
“That’s your fault, not mine…”
I didn’t hear the bathroom door open and close, but Ididhear Hugh’s voice when he shouted, “Liz? Are you okay?”
Forcing myself to sit up, I lifted my head to look at him. “Hi.”
“Hi.” Crouching down next to the tub, Hugh rested his elbows on the rim and stared at me. “What are you doing in the bath?”
“Resting,” I whispered, too numb to feel embarrassed. “I’m tired.”
“Are you sick?” Reaching out, he pressed his palm to my forehead and frowned. “You’re not warm.”
“Don’t,” I begged when he moved his hand. Shivering, I snatched it back up and held it to my cheek. “I can feel you.”
“Yeah, well, I would hope so,” he offered, giving me a rueful smile. “I am touching your face.”
“No, I canfeelyou,” I squeezed out, trying to make him understand. “I can feelmewhen I feelyou.”
He didn’t say anything to that, but he didn’t pull his hand away, either. Instead, he knelt beside me and kept his hand on my cheek.
“Listen, I’m doing homework in my room, but you can come with me and sleep in my bed if you want?” he offered after a long silence. “Claire and Shannon are out back in the treehouse, so they won’t mind.”
“You can sleep in my bed…”
I knew what that meant.
But it was okay.
Because I loved Hugh Biggs.
My heart was sure I did.
And Hugh would never hurt me likehedid.
Nodding, I took the hand he offered me and climbed out of the tub. Keeping a firm hold of his hand, I soaked in the warmth as he led me into his room.
It would be okay.
Because he was kind.
He wouldn’t make me cry.
He wouldn’t make me bleed.
“You can rest here,” Hugh said in a gentle voice, stopping in front of a big double bed. “It’s comfier than the tub.”
Climbing onto the mattress, I rolled onto my back and settled into the familiar position, arms at my sides and legs open, waiting for this boy to do what Mark told me all boys did.
Except hedidn’t.
Instead of taking off my clothes, Hugh covered me with a blanket and stepped away.
Confused, I turned my head to watch him sit cross-legged in front of a stack of schoolbooks on his bedroom floor.
Pulling up on my elbows, I peered down at him, not understanding any of this.
