Page 23 of The Sharpest Edges

She hadn’t moved an inch and now her tongue snakes out to lick her lips while her attention flickers down to his and back up again. The naked desire on her face makes his breath hitch in his lungs and causes him to second guess every single moment he told himself she only wanted to be friends and nothing more.

“Thanks,” she says, that one word is deeper than usual and followed by a hard swallow before she gifts him a smile.

He’s never been so grateful to have a thick blanket covering him as he is right now, or she’d see how fast he’s hardening at such a simple touch.

* **

The following day is nothing like the previous one.

Ava rushes into his room as panicked as she was when he almost slipped his cuffs. There’s no food in her hands for their lunch date, no indication that she hadn’t dropped whatever she was doing a second ago and beelined straight for him.

She’s standing in the doorway with wild eyes and flushed cheeks like she might rethink her choice and Dean hasn’t got a damn clue what’s going on.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t get your lunch. I said I would and then I forgot because something happened and…and I don’t know why I came here.”

“What happened?” He tries to keep his voice calm and soft and maybe it works because she takes a few tentative steps closer to the bed.

She crosses her arms and shifts her weight. It takes her a moment to respond before she gives in and tells him in a long exhale that trembles at the edges. “One of them touched me.”

“What the hell? How?” He’s gonna lose his damn mind and gut whoever had the balls to think about laying a finger on her. He can’t figure out how someone could have because they’re all supposed to be shackled. He knew all along that leaving her alone with prisoners was a shit idea and Nick should be held responsible for this instead of stuffing his face with another fucking donut.

“It wasn’t even that bad. It was nothing. I was safe the whole time, he was cuffed tight to the rail but when I went in closer to bandage a cut, he grabbed me by the hip. He told me, well it doesn’t matter what he told me, but I stepped back and it wasfine. I’m fine. The guard was right there, and he took him out. Wrote him up for it. It’s fine. I don’t know why I came here.”

The more she says she’s fine, the less he believes it.

“I didn’t know what else to do.” She continues. “I just wanted to see you.”

Something scared her and she came to him. The first thing she wanted was his reassurance, and that makes something unfamiliar and unnerving twist in his chest. “You ain’t fine. Come here.”

The chain circling his wrist clinks against the bedrail as he holds out a hand for her, reminding them both where they are and who he is. It shatters any illusion there may have been, but she only hesitates a moment before slipping her palm into his waiting one.

Her face crumbles just like her body does into the chair at his bedside, her palm warm and soft, delicate fingers curling around his rough, large hand. “I was always safe. He didn’t hurt me.”

Dean doesn’t know if she’s trying to convince him or herself, but her words are still shaky and there’s a hint of guilt creeping into her tone like she regrets bringing any of this to him. A part of him understands. They are something to each other, but not in a way that leads to a moment like this. Except here they are, in that moment anyway, and it feels right regardless of how unlikely it should be.

“Something happened before, didn’t it? Before today.” He gestures to where the scar resides on her chest. “There.”

He’s pushing his luck. Pushing her. He has no right to do that and normally never would. He isn’t the type to push at all, but if she needs to talk, then he wants her to know he’ll listen.

Her hold on his hand squeezes tighter, and she nods. He’sabout to tell her that she doesn’t have to talk about it, but then she speaks up and once she starts, she can’t stop.

“One of the guards left the cuffs too loose, and an inmate got free. He wasn’t you. He didn’t put them back. He was on me before I knew what happened. Wanted to use me as a shield, maybe? As something to trade for his freedom? I don’t know. I don’t think he thought it through, wasn’t expecting those cuffs to drop any more than I was.”

She pauses, glancing at a mirror on the wall, watching a scene play out in her mind.

“He broke the mirror. Held a piece across my throat but when the guards came at us I felt the tip dig into my skin and I fought him and it slipped, his hand slipped. It didn’t catch me in the neck, it got me here instead.”

Her free hand ghosts over her chest, tracing the outline of her wound from one side to the next. So much bigger than he thought before, so much damage done to someone who didn’t deserve it.

He lets his thumb wave over the top of her hand, caressing the round of her knuckles in soft patterns, hoping it’s enough while knowing it’s not even close.

“I thought I would die that day. There was so much blood,” she says, finally looking at him again, ending with a sort of hysterical half-laugh, a few tears welling in the corners of her eyes. “Shit, I’m a mess.”

Dean wishes he could snag those tears with his thumb and pull her close. Probably could since he can use both arms now, but he is still terrified of getting her fired. Someone could walk in while they’re doing something hard to explain away. Never mind that he doesn’t hug.

“Why’d you come back to work here?” He asks curiously.

“Why didn’t I quit? And go where? There’s a list a mile long at all the hospitals for nursing positions, twice that much at every private practice. I couldn’t leave and hope I found another job. Maybe I belong here anyway…eventually, it got easier again until I stopped thinking of leaving. Dunno if it was the right choice, I mean, clearly I’m screwed in the head now. One guy gropes my hip and I can’t function. I’m losing it.”

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