Page 45 of His Curse

"Good stuff?" Frankie chuckles, her focus on me in a tangible way.

"Mmhmm.” I take another sip and open my eyes. "Thank you."

"No problem.” She smiles again, her hazel eyes searching my face. "How do you feel?"

"Well..." I push up on my right elbow, wincing just a bit then manage to somehow get into a seated position. "I'm sore all over, sore in places I don't even remember injuring, but I didn't wake up dead, so that's a start."

Frankie's smile grows—gods, she’s fuckingstunning—as she hands me the glass of water then brings a folding chair over. "Definitely a plus."

Her eyes scan my face again, and a touch of insecurity flutters in my very empty gut while my hands instinctively move to my scars and the angry grid that covers my face.

Four thick lines divide it, the first running from the far corner of my right eye socket down to the corner of my lips, nicking the lower one before splitting my chin. Another starts just below my hairline, slicing through the brow and down the bridge of my nose, over my top lip and continuing to my jaw. The third starts in the middle of my forehead, dragging down to the inner corner of my left eye, under it and through my cheek, and the last one goes from my left brow right through my eye itself and stretches back to my ear but stops just before that.

My scars don't end there though, they continue down the side of my neck, from my throat to my chest and shoulder, but Frankie isn't looking at those, she's looking at the worst of it on my face—something that normally doesn't bother me.

I've said it a thousand times, meant it every time too, my scars don’t bother me and I view them as a gift, but having someone as beautiful as this female, someone I’m inexplicably drawn to, that is kind and doesn't appear to have any sort of malicious bone in her body, makes me a little self-conscious.

It didn't matter to me if anyone thought I was pretty before the attack, but I'm definitely not pretty now, especially compared to someone like Frankie, and it didn’t bother me after the attack until now.

My eyes drop to my lap as I attempt to fix my matted hair and try to hide my scars a bit but when I see a face staring back up at me from the blanket, I frown. "Who the hell is that?"

Frankie chuckles. "Nicolas Cage."

I look up at her with a lifted brow, my nerves and insecurities replaced by confusion.

Who the fuck is Nicolas Cage?

"He's an actor,” she says as she reads my mind with a shrug. "Long story, one you'll no doubt hear at some point, but right now I want to hearyourstory. Tell me what happened to you."

I don't think so.

Not yet anyway.

Frankie may be gorgeous and kind, concerned for sure, but that doesn't mean she's a friend. And friends can lie just as well as enemies do, and I don't need to share my story with her until I know for sure she isn't somehow working for Kentworth as a spy or decoy or some shit.

And since I'm not entirely clear on what actually happened after I busted out of the garage, I need to keep her talking while the bits and pieces become clearer.

"Nothing good,” is all I offer, my eyes glued to her face in search of any tells.

But Frankie just smirks and leans back in the chair. “I gathered that much. Four wounds caused by poison bullets isn't my idea of a fun time, and judging by how torn up your cute little feet were, I'd say you had one hell of a fight even after that."

I can feel my wolf sit up at that, her fatigue just as strong as mine, but she sits as she yawns, then shakes her head.She is friend to us, sister. Tell her our story.

Not yet. We don't know if she's a friend. She might work for the lab, might be one of them.

She is not,my wolf huffs.The female is good, kind. She is friend to us. She is much more than that to us.

Even if I wanted to tell her everything, I can't remember it all. Not completely, anyway.

I do. Let me help. I will show you so that you can tell her.

I roll my eyes, which makes Frankie’s smirk grow, then decide to ignore my wolf and avoid telling her anything just yet. "Are you alone here?"

"No.” She grins, but doesn't elaborate.

Oh good, she's a game player.

Fucking wonderful.

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