Page 27 of Mortify

"Sure."

I follow her to the tiny kitchen, noting how she moves.

Stiff. Careful. Protecting her ribs, maybe, or her back.

The rage builds higher, but I keep it locked down.

The last thing she needs is another angry man in her space.

She busies herself with the coffee maker, movements automatic.

I lean against the counter, studying her.

Up close, I can see finger marks on her throat, faint but visible.

The kind that'll bloom into purple bruises by tomorrow.

"You don't have to pretend," I say quietly.

Her hands still on the coffee pot. "Pretend what?"

"That you're okay. That he didn't hurt you." I keep my voice gentle, non-threatening. "I saw you leaving his place."

She turns sharply, then winces at the movement. "You were watching me?"

"Was worried when you weren't at work. Wanted to make sure you were all right."

"So you stalked me?" There's no real heat in it, just what seems to me like exhaustion.

"Yeah," I admit. "I did. And I'd do it again."

She stares at me for a long moment, then surprises me by laughing.

Not the broken sound from before, but something with actual humor in it. "At least you're honest about it."

"No point in lying." I shrug. "You've got enough of that in your life."

The coffee maker gurgles to life, filling the silence. She turns back to it, but I catch the way her shoulders shake slightly.

"Why do you care?" she asks, so quiet I almost miss it.

"You know why."

"Because of what you said on Thanksgiving?" She still won't look at me. "That you want to be more than... family?"

"Because you deserve better than what he's doing to you." I move closer, careful not to crowd her. "Because watching you pretend everything's fine when you show up with new bruises makes me want to put my fist through a wall. Because?—"

"Stop." She turns, and there are tears on her cheeks. "Please. I can't... I can't hear this right now."

"Then what can you hear?" I ask. "What do you need?"

She looks at me like I've asked something impossible.

Maybe I have.

When's the last time anyone asked what she needed instead of just taking?

"I don't know," she whispers. "I don't know anything anymore."

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