Come to Me Quietly(24)

His hands were a complete mess.

I squeezed my eyes shut as realization hit me hard.

It wasn’t just his hands. It was Jared Holt who was the mess.

“Come here,” I whispered, reaching out to take his hand.

He backed away. “I can take care of myself, Aly. Just go back to bed.” This time, there was no anger in his words, just defeat.

I shook my head. “Are you sure, Jared? Because it doesn’t look that way to me.”



He blinked as if he was trying to make sense of what I’d just said.

“Now come here and let me help you.” I offered him my hand. He seemed reluctant, wavering in indecision, before he finally placed his palm against mine. A thrill slithered along my skin. For a second, I remained still, relishing the slight connection. I lifted my gaze to him, and he was looking at me as if maybe the feel of my skin caused him pain.

“Come on.” I led him out into the living room to the couch. “Sit.”



Reluctantly he obeyed, and he sank to the edge of the couch. A heavy groan rumbled in his chest when he did. He dropped his head, his injured fingers gripping at the back of his neck.

“I’ll be right back.” I rushed into the kitchen, gathered the pieces of ice melting on the floor, and tossed them into the sink. I got a fresh towel and ran it under some cool water, wringing it out before I made my way back to him. He glanced up at me. All the belligerent hostility from this morning had vanished. Shame had taken its place.

This was the boy I’d found in the pages of the sketchbook I’d retrieved this morning.

I lowered myself onto my knees in front of him, my movements slow and calculated as I reached out to lightly tug at one of his forearms, never looking away from the haunted blue eyes that stared down at me. Again he flinched at my touch, a sharp gush of air rushing from his nose, before he relaxed and allowed me to bring his hand down onto his lap.

A little blood still oozed from the wounds, but it had mostly dried. I placed the towel on his hands. “Here, hold this and try to stop the bleeding. We need to get this cleaned up so it doesn’t get infected.”



I was a little surprised when he agreed with a quiet “Okay.”



I hurried to the bathroom, where I dug through the cabinet under the sink for the first-aid kit. Taking a second for myself in the sanctuary of the bathroom, I focused on quieting the rush of feelings igniting my senses in a way they should not. I was smart enough to recognize when I was on dangerous ground.

Everything about him was dangerous. Just as dangerous as he was beautiful.

I’d witnessed firsthand the destruction that was Jared Holt.

But there was no chance I could stay away.

I headed back out and set the kit beside me on the floor.

“Let me help you.” I took the towel and began to dab at this knuckles, hoping to remove some of the dirt. “You should probably run this under some water and wash it with soap.”



“It’s not that big a deal, Aly.” His expression was soft, but filled with confession. Like this happened all the time.

“I hope there wasn’t someone on the receiving end of this.”



Jared laughed mildly, a warm sound that contradicted his hard exterior.

It made me smile.

“No… not this time, unless a grungy wall counts.”



“I suppose not,” I said, sitting up on my knees to get a better look. I scrunched up my nose. “God, you smell like a Dumpster.” He might as well have taken a bath in booze.