Page 20 of Unmasked Anarchy
His attention is on Kael at first, and once Kael nods, he moves it to me.
“Sable?”
I nod.“Yeah.”
He walks over, reaching out a hand, and I take it.He doesn’t shake my hand, instead he pulls me to my feet, as if I am on the same level as him, not just some girl.My heart swells as I stare up at him.“How are you recoverin’?”
“Slowly,” I say, honestly.
“They find who hurt you?”
I shake my head.
His jaw ticks.
“Tell Thorn what you know.We’ll find out what we can.”
“Thorn?”I ask, confused.
Wolfe’s mouth tips up and he nods in Kael’s direction.
I can’t help but smile.
Kael mutters something and just like that, Steel and Wolfe are gone and we’re alone.
“Thorn?Do I ask?”
“No,” he murmurs, but his tone is light, playful.
Eventually, he nods to a bathroom.“Let’s get you cleaned up.You’re a mess.”
“Chivalry’s not dead after all,” I murmur, offering him a smile.
The bathroom is quite large and weirdly clean considering it is in a biker club.Kael turns the tap, runs his fingers under the water to test it, then finds a roll of paper towels.“Sit,” he tells me, and I do, butt perched on the edge of an old bathtub.
He wets a wad of paper towel, thumbs it gently against my skin, clearing away the worst of the dirt and muck on my face from tonight.A few small grazes from the attack have caused dried blood to cake against the wounds.His touch is careful, taking his time, his brows drawn in focus.
“You want to tell me what happened out there tonight?”
I shake my head.“It’s nothing, just club shit.”But I can’t meet his eyes; instead, I look at the wall behind him, at the place where an old, ugly painting is hanging on an angle.
Kael’s gaze lingers, but he doesn’t push.Just keeps cleaning, steady and patient.He pauses and when I look to see why, I can see he is staring down at my shirt.I look down and see a small line of blood against it.My wound must have opened up a little tonight.Shit.
“Lift your shirt,” he says, without thought.
“No,” I say, so quickly it has his eyes moving to mine, narrowing.
“You’re bleedin’, darlin’.”
I look away.“It’s nothing.Just a scratch.”
“We both know it ain’t a scratch.Let me see it, sweetheart.”When I still don’t move, he takes the hem himself, slow and deliberate, giving me enough time to stop him, but I don’t.The thought of him seeing it terrifies me, yet I do nothing to make him pause.
I just close my eyes and let him peel up the fabric, revealing the angry red scar across my abdomen.It’s jagged and ugly, spread across my stomach in a way that can’t be hidden.The vulnerability of the moment is overwhelming, a raw exposure that leaves me feeling stripped bare.Kael’s breath leaves him in a single exhale.The sound is soft, and it hangs in the air between us.
He doesn’t say anything at first, doesn’t gasp, doesn’t flinch, but his hands are extra careful as he blots at the fresh blood.His touch is gentle, almost tender, and it sends a shiver through me, a mix of comfort and fear.I can’t look at it.I can’t even look at him.The shame and insecurity bubble up, threatening to drown me in their intensity.
I feel the weight of his gaze, the silent understanding that passes between us, and it’s both terrifying and reassuring.There’s a part of me that wants to hide, to shield myself from the judgment I fear, but another part longs for the acceptance I see in his eyes.It’s a moment suspended in time, filled with unspoken words and emotions that swirl around us, leaving me breathless and exposed.
