Page 80 of Cuffed By Love

I felt crippled.When that guy forcefully pulled me back and squeezed my arm with his vice-like grip, all I saw was Scott, and my legs had turned to jelly. I thought for sure my knees would cave. After what I suffered from Scott, any time I’m around physical violence, it takes me right back to that mental state I’ve been fighting to get out of for the past two years. The crippling fear and anxiety leave me temporarily incapacitated.

The old me, before Scott, would have fended off arseholes like him with no problem. I would have scratched his eyes out, but now, I seize up, and all I want to do is run away and hide in a corner somewhere.

I’m eternally thankful to Levi and Devin for jumping in and protecting me, but I still hate the idea of needing protection. I don’t want to feel weak and helpless. I don’t want to be anyone's damsel. I wonder if I’ll ever get over it and go back to my old self again. I wonder if I’ll ever trust a man enough to let him into my life long enough to have a healthy relationship. Or will I spend the rest of my life constantly looking over my shoulder, wondering if Scott will show up someplace and hurt me again?

He’s locked up, Mira.

I know. Knowing he’s behind bars is the only reason I feel somewhat safe. Well, that and the medication my mother insists I take for my anxiety and PTSD. I only hope the boys don’t get into trouble for assaulting him, trying to protect me.

“Are you okay?” I look up from my cup of camomile tea and nod. Levi takes a seat next to me and brushes my hair out of my face. “You’re quiet. What’s on your mind, baby girl?”

I force a smile on my face, “I’m okay, just processing, I guess.” I lift my hand and touch his cheek.

“Are you all right? You didn’t hurt yourself when you headbutted him, did you?” Levi smiles handsomely. He turns his head and drops a lingering kiss on my wrist. “Maybe we should ice your head?”

“Nah, I’m good. He’s lucky all I broke was his nose. I was tempted to break the bastard's fingers.” Levi scowls irritably.

“I’m glad you didn’t.” I look around when I don’t see Devin. “Where’s Dev?”

“He’s gone to clean up his hand. He has a cut over his knuckle. He probably caught it on his teeth when he punched him.” Levi explains. I feel a pang of guilt and set my cup down on the coffee table.

“I should go check on him.” Levi nods and goes to answer his phone when it rings. I make my way to Devin’s bedroom when I hear the water running in his en-suite. “Dev?” I push the door to the bathroom and see him standing at the sink, topless with his hand under the faucet. His dark brows are drawn together tight till he looks up and sees me and his frown softens a little. “Are you okay? Levi said you were hurt.”

Devin shakes his head and goes back, looking down at his hand under the water. “I’m fine.” He answers curtly.

I take a hesitant step toward him and look down at his hand and see the blood seeping from his cut and mixing with the water. I gasp and place my hand on his arm, and he looks at my hand.

“Let me see what you’ve done.”

“It’s just a little cut. I’ll live, Mira.” I look at him, surprised when he uses my name instead of calling me Tinks.

I lower the lever for the tap, and the water stops. Devin scowls at me. “Let me take a look.” He sighs, straightening and holds out his hand for me so I could inspect it. I take his hand into both of mine, and I wince at the deep cut over his two knuckles. “Do you have a first aid box?”

Devin nods and wordlessly juts his jaw to the draw beside me with his head. “I can handle it.” He tries to take the first aid kit from me, but I pull it out of his grasp and stick him with a scornful look. “Fine.” He sighs, turning and leaning against the sink.

“Have you disinfected it yet?” I ask fishing through the first aid kit for sterile wipes.

“No.”

Jesus. Why is he being so cold and terse all of a sudden? I ignore the bite in his clipped tone and rip open a wipe so I can clean his wound. “This might sting.”

“Mhm.”

I exhale and lift my eyes to look up at him, but he’s staring straight ahead. With a shake of my head, I proceed to clean his cut. I wait to hear a hiss or a grumble of some sort but get nothing as I clean the wound. I find some of those needleless stitches and place them over his cut before putting the dressing on. “That should do for now. Your cut is quite deep. Those may not hold out, so we can check it tomorrow and see if you’ll need to get actual stitches.”

“Thanks.” He utters frostily and looks down at his hand, inspecting my handiwork.

“Are you okay, Dev?” I ask, tilting my head to the side while observing him. He won’t even look at me. I don’t understand. Did I do something wrong?

“I’m fine.”

“Devin.” I reach up and turn his face so he could look at me, but he averts his gaze. “Why won’t you look at me?” I ask, my tone wounded. Devin lowers his gaze and finally looks at me. Gone is the usually warm, playful gaze; instead, it almost seems like a storm is brewing behind those brown orbs of his. “Is something wrong?”

Devin stares at me for a beat and shakes his head. He curls his fingers around my wrist and pulls my hand away from his face. “No. Everything is just ducky.”

The terse responses he keeps throwing at me sting, his sudden cold demeanour leaving me feeling butthurt. I could have pushed and got him to tell me what was bothering him, but I wasn’t in the mood to fight. Instead, I take a step back and wordlessly turn and walk out of his bedroom. I jump a moment later when he slams the door shut to the bathroom. With a shake of my head, I walk back to the living room where Levi is still talking to someone on the phone.

I felt so out of place that I didn’t know what to do with myself. It was clear Dev didn’t want me here. Do I leave and go home? Maybe he needs some time alone. I’m not staying somewhere I’m not wanted. To hell with the handcuffs. When Levi notices the glum look on my face, he frowns.

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