Page 38 of The Rivals' Touch

I’m in the bathtub with my chin on my knees, staring at the silver faucet while the water from the showerhead above me beats on my sore skin. I don’t know how long I’ve sat here, but it will never be long enough. I’m dirty, and no amount of scrubbing will erase my father’s abuse. The bruises that mar my body only tell half the story of the depths of his depravity.

My puffy eyes sting from crying, and I don’t know if I have stopped. I can no longer tell shower water from the tears on my cheeks.

I turn the cold tap on, watching the ice-cold water creep closer to my bare feet. I want the icy sting, but it’s lukewarm when it pools around my toes because of the hot water from the showerhead above.

After switching off the tap, I stand up and do the same to the showerhead. Then I wait for the chill in the air to raise goosebumps over my skin. Water from my wet hair seeps into my eyes and drips onto my lips. If I never move again, I won’t have to feel.

I peer to my left where my towel is hanging on the heated towel rack. I need to get ready for school, but it feels like a herculean task to put my mask on and carry on with life.

I drag in a breath and reach for my towel, but the door opens before I can grab it.

“Are you naked in here, si—?” Zayd says with a grin, but it falls when his eyes land on my bruised skin.

I snatch the towel and wrap it around my body with trembling hands.

The shock on his face is replaced with something much darker. He sets his jaw and flicks his eyes back up to mine. “What happened?!”

I step out of the bathtub and hurry past him, but he intercepts me and locks the bathroom door.

I shrink back, too vulnerable for his probing eyes. “Please, open the door.”

“Who did that to you?!”

I shake my head and keep my eyes trained on his neck, so I won’t have to see the look in his eyes. When he grabs my arm, I whimper.

He notices and lets me go. “Who the fuck did this to you?!”

“Let me leave.”

He brushes his thumb over my bruised cheek and the cut on my lip in a surprisingly tender caress. “Talk to me.”

I snatch my jaw away. “Please, don’t touch me.” Not today.

His hand falls away. “Who hurt you?”

“Zayd, please.”

“You didn’t leave the house last night.” His jaw hardens as the realization dawns on him. I stiffen and wipe the tears off my cheeks, attempting to push past him, but he pulls the towel off. Staring at my bruises, he curses under his breath. I ball my fists; what’s the point of hiding my nakedness anyway? He’s already seen what’s on offer. My secret is out, and my shame is on full display. He leans down, collects the towel, and then hands it back to me.

Unable to breathe, I clutch it to my naked chest. The emotions I thought were buried deep bubble to the surface and press against my sternum. It hurts worse than my bruised ribs.

“How long has he been hitting you?”

My wet hair lies plastered to my cheek. I shake my head and avoid looking at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t lie to me!”

It takes everything in me to meet his dark gaze. “I’m not.”

He flicks his eyes between mine, searching for the truth, then nods and steps back.

I should move, but I don’t. Something keeps me rooted in place. Maybe it’s his brown eyes or his calloused fingers tracing over my jaw, then my mouth.

“Zayd?” I whisper. I don’t know what I’m asking…

He swallows thickly, brushing his thumb over my bottom lip. His tender touch holds me captive. But he makes no further move, and I don’t whisper his name again. “I’m here when you’re ready to talk.”

Then he’s gone, disappearing out the doorway.

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