Page 28 of The Rowdy Ones
“Are you going to be weird or can we talk like old times?”
Before this trip, everything was good for us. We got so close. Being kidnapped and assaulted broke her. I’d been the one to find her and was there for her as she tried to heal.
Everything changed when she cut herself.
Now we’re here and things are definitely weird.
“I’m going inside. It’s cold, Rowdy.”
I follow her into the cabin. The front is dark aside from a light in the kitchen. Destiny, after having already mastered the layout of their cabin, easily makes her way to Wild’s room without bumping into anything. Like I’m her shadow, I creep along behind her.
Once inside the bedroom, I close the door behind me and take in the space. Beside her bed is a vase of pink roses. They’re pretty, but I hate them because they came from Weston.
It’s almost like you’re jealous…
I scrub my palm over my face and watch as Destiny sheds her coat. She’s wearing fitted jeans and a baggy black sweater that falls off one shoulder, exposing too much skin in my opinion.
“You wanted to talk,” she says softly. “Talk.”
I prowl over to her, unable to take my eyes from her bare shoulder. “Can I sit?”
She nods and sits on the edge of the bed. “Yep.”
Now that I have permission, I don’t know that it’s the best idea. Last time we were on a bed together alone… Fuck.Get your shit together, man.
I fight past the awkwardness and plop down beside her. She busies herself with untying her boots. A hiss of breath escapes her as she pulls one off. Her white sock is stained with blood.
“What happened?” I demand.
“Blisters. We went ice skating.”
“I’ll be right back.”
By the time I return with a first aid kit, Destiny has changed into her sleepwear. The T-shirt swallows her small frame, the material hitting her just above her knees.
Why did she have to get undressed?
I kneel down in front of her, focusing on her bloodstained socks instead of her flawless, smooth legs. She winces when I peel off one of the socks. Her foot is red and swollen, bleeding in places.
“Why would he take you some place you could get hurt?” I demand, nostrils flaring.
“It’s fine,” she assures me. “I had fun.”
Her foot is so tiny in my massive hands. Sickness roils in my gut when I think about how helpless she was when I’d touched her in my sleep. She’s no match for a man like me.
“I fucked up,” I croak out as I start unwrapping Band-Aids. “I didn’t know.”
“I know. I don’t blame you. You shouldn’t either.”
“I’ll never drink again.”
Never. Fucking never.
“Rowdy…” She sighs heavily. “You’re being too hard on yourself.”
Too hard? I wish I could beat myself with a whip until my flesh is flayed open and all this shame seeps out of me.
“I’m sorry.” I swallow down the bile in my throat. “Please forgive me.”
