Never Let Me Fall by Abbie Roads

Author:Abbie Roads
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sourcebooks, Inc.
Published: 2018-10-16T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Helena leaned against the closed bathroom door as if she expected Thomas to try to break it down. But he wouldn’t. He was too calm and kind to act that way. Even when he’d touched her scars, he’d reassured her that he wouldn’t hurt her, because he’d known she’d freak out. Which she was doing right now.

She was overreacting. Knew it. Couldn’t help it. His touch on her scars felt like he’d ripped her wide open, then reached inside to tinker around. What had she done? Run off in the middle of him putting all her pieces back together.

A cascade of tears streamed down her face. She swiped them away.

And that’s when she saw all the blood in the bathroom. Her blood. Oh God. It was all over the bathtub, all over the floor. The room looked like a slaughterhouse. A scream threatened to erupt from inside her. She needed to get herself under control. She needed to stop crying. What she really needed to do was leave.

Her shirt and pants from the day before were stacked in a neat pile on the back of the toilet tank. Maybe if she weren’t surrounded by Thomas, his clothes, his house, she could think straight about getting out of here.

In seconds, she stripped and put on her own shirt and pants. The garments felt cold and too tight against her skin, but she ignored the sensation. She opened the door. He stood there, his beautiful scarred face full of concern for her that she didn’t deserve.

She thrust his clothes at his chest. When he didn’t take them, she let them drop on the floor and marched past him, down the hallway and down the staircase. He followed her, but she pretended to not notice.

In the living room, she found her coat on the back of the couch. Exactly where he’d laid it after taking it off her a lifetime ago. The material felt heavy and too bulky as she put it on and zipped it up. She reached for her gloves, but he grabbed her by the shoulders. She refused to look at him. No way was she going to let him talk her out of leaving this time.

“Look at me, damn it.” His tone was gruff and guttural.

She tried to shrug out of his grip, but his hands were immovable. Not hard. Not hurting. Just immovable.

“I’m not letting you go until you look at me. You owe me that much.” A plea hid inside his tone.

If she caught a glimpse of his eyes, her resolve might crumble. But if she didn’t look at him, she suspected he’d stand there holding on to her until they were both old and feeble. Maybe that’s what he wanted. Maybe that’s what she wanted.

She inhaled a slow breath, hoping to find some willpower in the air, but nope—none to be found. Reluctantly, she shifted her gaze up his chest, over the hard line of his jaw, over his stubble-covered cheeks. Over his beautiful scar, before circling back around to finally meet his eyes.

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