Valorous(28)

“Okay.”

He gets up and walks into the house without looking back. Watching him go, I’m fearful that despite his assurances to the contrary, hearing my story is going to change everything for us.





Chapter 6





I want to punch something. I want to kick the shit out of Natalie’s father and shake sense into her pathetic excuse for a mother. I want to dig up Oren Stone and kill him all over again for what he did to her.

The shower in Hayden’s downstairs bathroom is big enough for six people. Standing under the pulsating water, I try to contain my rage, but there’s no containing the despair I feel after having heard what happened to my precious Natalie. I slam my fist against the tile wall. When that doesn’t make me feel better, I do it again.

And then she’s there, pulling me back and wrapping her arms around me. I realize I’m sobbing. I can’t remember the last time I cried before I met Natalie, but my heart is literally breaking for the girl Natalie once was and for the woman she is today, thanks to her own grit and determination.

“It’s okay, Flynn.” She runs her hand over my back in a soothing caress.

Why is she comforting me? I should be comforting her, but I’m reeling. I can’t seem to get control of myself or my emotions, which is all new for me. I am always in control. Always.

“I’m okay. It was years ago, and I’ve put it behind me where it belongs.”

I want to follow her lead, to put it behind me and move forward with her, but I don’t know if I can. How will I not think of what happened to her, what was done to her, every time I touch her? What if I can’t control myself? What if the overpowering desire I feel for her makes me forget, even for a moment, what she’s endured in the past? I won’t be able to live with myself if I harm her in any way.

Every sexual encounter we’ve already had runs through my mind with new context. Have I already pushed her too hard or too far? Have I frightened her with my desire? My entire body is trembling from the fear and the rage that pound through me like a jackhammer.

“God, you’re bleeding.” She raises my injured right hand to the water.

The sting of the hot water on my split knuckles snaps me out of the stupor. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. You’re hurt.”

I pull my hand free of her hold and shut off the water. “I need… I’m going to go for a run.”

“Don’t run away from me, Flynn. Please don’t.”

“I don’t trust myself to be what you need right now.”

“You are what I need. I had no idea how badly I needed you until you forced your way into my life and made me fall in love with you.”

“Nat…” She slays me with her sweetness and her light. How can there be all that light when she’s endured so much darkness? I admire her as much as I love her.

Her arms come around me, and she guides my head to her shoulder. “You’re exactly what I need. Please don’t run away. Stay with me. Be with me. Hold me.”

I’m shaking like a tree in a hurricane. “I’m afraid to touch you.”

She takes hold of my arms and wraps them around her waist.

We stand there in the lingering steam from the shower for long minutes. I have no idea how much time goes by, but I feel myself begin to relax ever so slightly. The trembling subsides, and in its place a deep, lingering ache settles in my bones.

Natalie leads me out of the shower and wraps a towel around me. I go through the motions of drying off. She ducks into the closet and emerges wearing an oversize I Love NY T-shirt that’s another reminder of what she’s lost thanks to me.

She takes me by the hand and leads me to the sink, where she rinses the blood off my knuckles. I’m so numb I can barely feel the throb of pain coming from my injured hand. She shuts off the faucet and takes me into the bedroom. “Sit.” She points to the bed. “I’ll be right back.”

What the hell is wrong with me? I should be taking care of her, not the other way around. But I can’t move. I can’t think about anything other than the storm that rages inside me as I come to terms with what she told me.

Natalie returns with a first-aid kit and an ice pack. After she dabs antibiotic ointment on the wound, she wraps it in gauze that she seals with medical tape. She settles me against a pile of pillows and places the ice pack over my swollen knuckles.

“I’m sorry,” I say when she joins me on the bed, curling up to me.