Page 112 of Sin Like the Devil

“You have friends,” I argue.

“No. I don’t.”

The pressure in my chest expands. “You have me.”

She’s silent for several agonising seconds.

“You got hurt because of me, Raine. Because of what I know. They used you to get to me. How can I ever risk letting that happen again?”

“Rick and those shitheads are gone. No one has seen them for days.”

“You think that matters? There’s a long list of people who hate this place and hate me by extension. I can’t say I blame them for wanting a pop at Harrowdean’s whore.”

Ripley spits the last words out with such hate-filled emotion, I can almost hear a flicker of the spitfire I’ve come to adore. When I overheard the onsite medic, Doctor Hall, discussing what Rick carved into her, I wanted to punch a fucking wall.

“He didn’t even say goodbye,” she mutters.

“Who?”

In the stillness, I can practically hear her chest seize. “My uncle came to visit me in the hospital.”

“Shit. What did he say?”

“Nothing I didn’t already know.” Her voice wobbles. “I’m on my own now.”

Oh, fuck this. She doesn’t need coaxing. She needs someone to pick her up, wrap her in love and tell her that she’s worthy of receiving it. I don’t care if she has to hurt me in the process of accepting that.

Reaching across the bed, I band my arms around her tightly-balled form. She complains at first, but as I drag her into the shell of my body, her whispers die out.

I hold her against my chest, tucking her head beneath my chin and stroking my hand along the ridges of her spine. I can tell that she hasn’t showered for a few days, but it doesn’t bother me. We’ve all been there.

Holding her tight, I give her the safe space to break apart. Wet warmth soaks into my skin as she hides her face. I wonder if anyone has held her and given her permission to be weak since she lost her parents.

“Just leave me alone, Raine,” she cries.

“Not a chance, guava girl.”

“I’m tired of being the bad guy.” She hiccups into my throat. “I don’t want to be the reason anyone else gets hurt.”

“That isn’t your choice,” I say gently.

“Why not?”

“Because we all get hurt in life. The trick is to find the person you care about enough to let them hurt you.”

“I’ve never had that,” she confesses after a long pause.

In the darkness that has long represented fear to me but now feels like home, I can admit the truth.

“Me neither. I guess we both just want to belong somewhere.”

Ripley’s lips brush against my pulse point. “Or to someone.”

With her tears soaking into me and our breath mingling, I can feel our essences dancing hand in hand. There’s something intimate about seeing someone at their lowest point. It’s not just a milestone, it’s a privilege.

I didn’t have anyone to hold me when I needed it the most. I was alone. Afraid. Abandoned. Everything she’s feeling right now. I won’t let her go through it alone.

No one held me.

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