Page 78 of Indigo

If he won’t listen, I’ll show him. Show him how much I love him, appreciate him, trust him.

“Come on,” I whisper, sliding from his lap, and holding out my hand for him to take. The helpless look on his face as he raises his eyes to mine makes my heart ache for the man sitting in front of me. “Let’s get you cleaned up, sweetie.”

He follows me to the bathroom, my hand held tightly in his as he sits down on the closed toilet, making it easier for me to reach his face as I pull the Betadine from the glass cabinet above his bathroom sink.

I flinch as I dab the cotton bud against his fresh cuts, expecting him to do the same, but as he stares down at the white tiles lining the floor, I realise he doesn’t even register the pain I’m inflicting by wiping the blood from his face.

I carefully disinfect his knuckles, his lip, his eye, until I’m certain the wounds are clean enough to be left alone to heal, and then, once I’ve cleaned up, I explain everything that happened after he left.

He simply nods along. I don’t know if he’s hearing me right now, understanding that nothing bad is going to happen.

Slowly, I lower myself to my knees in front of him and meet his tired eyes. “I love you,” I whisper, gripping his thighs and squeezing, trying to reassure him.

The side of his mouth twitches, as if he’s trying to smile, but then his eyes meet mine, and I see nothing but pain swirling in them.

Carefully, he runs the pad of his thumb over the tender spot on my cheek and hisses out a breath through his teeth.

“Pax,” I say, ensuring my voice is firm, so there is no misinterpretation of what I’m about to say next. “Tonight was not your fault. I’m okay. We’re okay.” He nods, but I can tell he’s only doing it to make me feel better. He doesn’t actually believe the words I’m trying to drill into his thick skull. “I’m so sorry.”

That gets his attention. He frowns, and his eyes dart back and forth between mine as if searching for the meaning behind my statement.

“I’m sorry that tonight happened. I’m sorry that he came here looking for me. I’m sorry that–”

“Shhhh,” he says, reaching forward and taking my face between his hands. I suck in a shaky breath as he leans in and kisses along my face, lingering on my cheek for a moment. “Don’t ever apologise for the shit he pulled tonight, Blue.”

“I’ll stop apologising for it if you do.”

He runs his tongue along his bottom lip, wincing a little as it runs over the cut, and then nods. “Deal.”

With a relieved breath, I wrap my arms around his neck. He returns the gesture and uses his hold on me to lift me from the floor so that my chest is plastered to his.

We stay like that, comforting each other for a few minutes before I suggest we get into bed. He doesn’t fight me, simply stands, still holding me to him, and I wrap my legs around his waist to make it easier for him to carry me to the bedroom.

Sliding under the covers, the room dark and quiet, we stare into each other’s eyes as I let my fingers trace along the lines of his face, nothing but the moonlight coming through the open window lighting my way. I frown as I reach the fresh cut on Pax’s eyebrow and pray that this one doesn’t scar the way his others did.

He doesn’t deserve another reminder.

“I’m okay, Blue,” he says, kissing my forehead tenderly before I snuggle closer to him and rest my head on his chest, letting the sound of his heartbeat soothe me.

His breathing evens out after only a few minutes, and as I slide my leg over his hip, the need to be even closer than I am right now forcing me to do so, I realise everything I ever wanted is right here, and now, the threat of Michael is gone.

So why does the dread that I’ve been feeling since that dream remain?

Why don’t I feel at peace right now?

The questions keep me awake for hours.

I stare out the window, looking at the moon that sits in perfect view, as if framed by the glass, and hope like hell that it’s paranoia and not a warning.

-26-

PAXTON

I WAKE WITH INDIEwrapped around my body, the smell of her lavender shampoo drowning my senses.

I turn my head and bury my nose in her hair, groaning as I do.

I’m sore. So fucking sore. My face and my knuckles ache like a motherfucker, but having her right here, this close, makes everything else just melt away.

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