Page 17 of Micro
She sighed. “They will, we just have to be patient. What did the lady say?”
“She said ‘any fucking time now’… well, I added the f-bomb. I’m tired of being patient though. They need to fucking get you sorted.” I glanced at the nearest door, wondering if I could get her seen sooner, even if it got me thrown out.
“Lowell, please, just calm down. I’m sure it’ll be any minute now.” Luckily for them, we were called about two minutes later, and yet again, Soph made me wait outside. It was frustrating that she kept pushing me away like this, but then we weren’t really a couple, were we? It was all a pretence, and what good had it done her? Had I just made things worse for her with my fucking intrusion into her life? Wasn’t that my fucking gift to anyone who was unlucky enough to be around me?
Ten
Itwasn’tbroken,butit was painfully sprained, and I was almost high on good pain relief, by the time we made it home. Lowell was being very attentive, almost overbearingly so, but Reaper’s words had sunk into my soul, and I found myself wary of Lowell now, almost like I could see Reaper’s point. That kind of violence hadn’t come from nowhere. It was always inside him. How long before it ended up aimed at me? How long before he was tending to me, after injuries he’d himself caused, while he apologised, and promised it wouldn’t happen again.
Reaper knew about my parents, and he knew that an abusive relationship would be a major fear for me, after what I’d grown up witnessing. Would Lowell turn on me today? Tomorrow? A week from now?
“How are you doing pain-wise, babe, you need more meds yet? You’re almost due for them,” Lowell said as he brought me another cuppa. He’d showered and changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt, clothes I’d paid for during his convalescence. Why was that suddenly something I was even noticing? I’d found him half dead on the side of a road, so how would he even have his own clothes?
“Soph? They still making you loopy?” He grinned as he sat beside me, and reached out to stroke my hair back from my cheek. Almost unbidden, I jerked out of reach, before he could even touch me. I could see the hurt in his eyes as he drew back, dragging a hand over his stubbled jaw.
“I should probably leave you in peace.” He got up and left the room, returning with the box of painkillers, popping two out and resting them on top. He left and returned again with a sandwich he’d made for me.
“Need to soak up those pills a bit. Shout if you need anything, yeah?”
“Lowell-”
He paused in the doorway, his large shoulders sagging a little.
“It’s okay. I know you saw some fucked up shit tonight, and you don’t really know me, but you’re safe from me, I promise.” He didn’t wait for me to answer him, and after he’d gone to his bedroom, I stared at the cup of tea, the pills he’d popped out, because I was unable to do it with one hand, and the sandwich he’d thoughtfully made, to help me stomach the strong medication. Was this the real Lowell, or was ‘Psycho’ the real him? Was there any way to find out for sure? Until Reaper had put the thought in my head, I’d felt safe and comfortable with him, hell… I’d been falling for him. Was I misjudging him after one night’s events?
I awkwardly ate the sandwich with my one good hand, alternating with mouthfuls of tea, made exactly the way I like it. He cared enough to get the details right, so surely that counted for something?
I took the pills and forced myself to use the bathroom, not an easy task with one hand, and it was only when I started undressing that I realised I couldn’t do it alone, that I knew I needed Lowell’s help. Would he already be asleep? Would he tell me to figure it out on my own, since I’d pretty much rejected him earlier, while he was being so sweet and considerate too.
I could just sleep in the t-shirt, right? Probably, but the bra under it? With the fucking underwire cutting in all night? God no. Could I really ask for his help with this though?
I took a few deep breaths, wondering how it’d feel if he said yes, how it’d feel to have him lifting my clothes off, how his skin would feel against my more intimate places. Oh god, why was that making me horny, when I knew I was too wary of him now to trust him like that?
My legs were already moving without conscious thought, completely forgetting the fact that I’d already stripped my lower half and was just wearing underwear. All that mattered was getting out of this damn bra, and if he had to touch me to achieve that, well, that’d be a bonus.
I knocked softly on his door, calling out his name as I tentatively opened it, stepping into the darkness of his room.
Micro
Icouldn’treallyhaveblamed her for being unnerved by me at my most violent, could I? If she knew the awful things I’d done, she’d run from me for sure. I definitely didn’t deserve for her to like me or trust me. The longer I was away from everything, the more horrified I became, at what I’d done to people I should have cared about,didcare about. I think watching Reacher find happiness with his old lady was like a trigger point for me, a realisation that he was getting to live and be happy, after murdering my father, but time was giving me some perspective on that too. I might be the monster my dad raised, with his constant abuse to ‘make me a man’, but there was more to me than that. I wished there was a way to make amends with my old brothers, even though I knew they’d kill me on sight, and theyshould.
Maybe Sophie could be my redemption. If I could take care of her, and protect her, maybe in some way it’d heal a part of my soul, and somehow cosmically balance this shit out. Not to mention that the more time I spent with her, the more I fucking wanted her. That quiet reflective nature, the deep intelligence, the willingness to suffer through a life not intended for her, just to protect a loved one. She was the real deal. She’d practically resurrected me, and she didn’t have to do that. She didn’t owe me a damn thing, but I was so fucking glad she did. Any time in her presence was a gift I’d never fucking regret somehow receiving.
If only she could trust me, and she’d started out that way, so what had changed tonight? Was it just the violence, or was there more to it? Could I show her that I wasn’t that man anymore? Would she even believe that, after what she saw tonight?
A soft knock at my door was followed by her voice, calling out a name I’d had to force myself to start answering to again, just for her. I couldn’t tell her my real road name, or I’d lose her forever anyway.
The door opened and she stepped into the darkened room in just a fucking t-shirt, cradling her injured wrist with the other arm.Fuck. Just the sight of her like that had me hard, and there was nowhere to hide that for a guy sleeping nude, was there?
“Soph?”
She pushed the door closed, and approached the bed haltingly. Was she about to fucking join me or what? She hesitated at the foot of the bed, and I flicked the bedside lamp on to see her better, since the little light from the hallway around the door just wasn’t enough.
“I’m sorry, Lowell,” she paused, and I opened my mouth to tell her it was okay, that I was an asshole and didn’t deserve her anyway, but she spoke again, “I need help, and I feel so bad for asking after you’ve done so much for me, but-”
“Anything, just say the word.” Soph suddenly gasped, using her good hand to tug the hem of her t-shirt lower, like she suddenly realised how little she was wearing. Jesus fuck, those legs seemed to go for fucking miles, and I wanted to spread them apart and feast on her. Thoughts like that really weren’t helping my hard-on go down, either.
“I shouldn’t have bothered you,” Sophie whispered, giving up on the hem, and cradling her injured arm some more.
