Page 93 of The Dark Obsession

“Nicer than the last one.” Rafael speaks for the first time.

I startle and face him.

He’s dropped the backpack and is shrugging his arms through his torn shirt. He passes me and turns on the bath.

My body feels as if it will collapse.

He kicks off his shoes and drops down his jeans. He reaches behind a pane of glass and turns on the shower.

I stare at his pale chest, almost completely covered with reddening bruises and cuts. His scar is barely visible under the black and blue.

He steps into the shower, his face scrunching as the water hits his skin. “Come on, Rose. Let’s get clean and relax for an hour before we assess the damage.”

I nod, catching sight of myself in the mirror. I look wild; my shirt hangs open, my stomach red and blotching blue. My ribs are a dark shade of purple. The bruising on my cheek spreads to my jaw. I extend my hands and notice every knuckle on my right hand is grazed and raw. I cringe away from the sounds of my attack on Lucy, which replays in my head.

I see Rafael from the corner of my eye move from the shower and into the steaming circular bathtub. He drops his underwear as he lowers his battered body into the water.

I sigh deeply, regretting it straight away as my insides threaten to explode. I drop my jeans to the floor and approach the shower. My shirt comes off last, but I keep my underwear on. I can feel Rafael’s eyes on my back, but I won’t look at him; I can’t look at him. I slide into the shower, and my body sears and stings. The fire of the water licks my shaking body. I moan as the water runs down my ribs. I stay facing the wall and stare at the floor, watching the blood wash from my hands and face.

When the water finally runs clear, I turn off the tap. With another sigh, I step out of the shower. My soaking body is freezing cold.

Rafael’s arms are outspread as he leans on the back of the bath. The hot water still runs into the bath near his feet. The transparent water ripples like tiny waves on a miniature ocean. A small smile lifts one of his cheeks, he winces then turns his face to the side, leaning his head onto his arm to show he’s not looking.

I remove my undies, drop them on the floor, and step into the bath.

Rafael glances my way, watching me move onto my knees.

I kneel and lower myself as slowly as possible into the tub as the hot water sends a convulsion deep into my stomach. I sit opposite Rafael in the giant bath. He doesn’t smile now; I can feel his angry green eyes exploring my injuries.

Rafael leans forward to turn off the tap and sits back. “Rosalie, come here,” he whispers.

I move slowly, not wanting to show how sore I really am, and sit right next to Rafael. Even under the hot water, his skin is cold against my leg. The moment is serene, it is perfect in its own imperfection. To celebrate Dale’s final downfall and my brother being safe? To mourn the murder of my parents? I can’t decide, though I know deep down inside the decision is made, that my brother being safe is a huge relief, that the guilt and mourning will kick in sooner rather than later and that I’m going to grip onto this moment of happiness and not let it go too soon.

He hesitantly moves his hand to my face and runs an artic trail down my neck, over my chest, and stops just above my stomach.

My stomach threatens to burst with the butterflies that are finally free from the flames of pain.

“How bad does it feel?” His hand runs up my chest.

“It doesn’t hurt anywhere near as bad as you look.”

“Relax, amor.” His hands move to my shoulders and massage carefully. “I’m a fast healer.” He points to his chest, and I stare open-mouthed at the cuts on his chest that seem days old, not mere hours.

I shrug out of his arms and turn back to face him. “Rafael.” I run my fingers over his chest, along his ragged scar.

He takes a shaking breath. “Rose.” He exhales, and his fingers move into the water and tickle over my thigh.

“I was so scared for you.” I mutter.

Rafael’s fingers freeze on my leg.

“When we’re not together, I simply ache.” I continue.

His fingers move steadily again. “Rose, I too ache. I’ve never felt fear like this before tonight, the fear of losing you.”

Both of Rafael’s hands run up the sides of my thighs, sending the flurries of butterflies into hysterics in my lower stomach. I lean forward, letting his lips caress mine. My ribs ache as I lean closer to him. His lips flow down my neck, and my fingers tangle in his wet curls.

“How’re your ribs feeling?” His lips linger on my chest.

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