Page 77 of Devil's Bargain

I lean my head back against the headboard and look at him. “Maybe a little bit.” I put my index finger an inch from my thumb and squint. “Like this much!”

He laughs, shaking his head. “Girls think I’m cool, you know?”

“Right,” I tease. “Do those girls know you watch Sailor Moon?”

“You’re here, so it can’t be a total repellent.”

“Yeah, but I’m not interested in you in that way.”

“Bullshit!” he laughs, pushing me over with his hand.

My mouth falls open. I straighten back up. “I’m not!” My insides soar with happiness at the sound of his deep chuckle. “I promise I’m not!”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“Whatever! Your ego needs to go on a diet.”

He pokes me in the side, making me laugh.

I sober up. “I love this scene!”

“Yeah?”

I nod, shifting on the bed and lying down on his pillow. It’s the softest one I’ve ever felt, and it smells of Rick. I try to be discreet as I bury my nose in the fabric.

“It’s a good scene!” he agrees as he fluffs up his pillow and lies back. Neither of us is watching the movie now. We’re on our sides, gazing into each other’s eyes.

“Are you scared?” he asks me, and the question takes me by surprise. I think about the eviction letter on my kitchen island. The videos of me having sex with Scott and Jared.The man with the salt and pepper hair.“Very!”

He strokes his warm fingers over my cheek before drawing his hand back.

“Are you?” I whisper, my eyes flicking between his.

“No.”

I shift onto my back and stare at his white ceiling. There are no stains on it like mine. “You’re lucky. I feel like I’ve been scared my whole life.”

“Of what?”

“A lot of things.”

“Tell me.”

I move my head. His hazel eyes are locked on mine. “At first, I was scared of the men my mom brought home. Some hit her, and some… Well… They didn’t like a child in the house. As I grew older, I became scared about them coming into my room at night, so I started sleeping with a knife. Now I fear other things. Mainly the unpaid bills and my mom’s drug abuse.”

“Did any of the men hurt you?”

I close my eyes against the buried memories that threaten to surface. “Please don’t psychoanalyze me, Rick.”

His fingers are on my cheek, brushing over the bruises. “You’re safe here,” he whispers so quietly I’m not even sure I heard him right.

My eyes are growing heavy. “I’m not safe anywhere.”

I feel his lips on my forehead, but I’m too tired to respond. Sleep takes me in the next moment.

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