Page 61 of Make Me Bleed
My muscles tense at the accusation. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean,” he snarks, and I whirl around, face hot.
“You left me. At the lowest point in my fuckinglife.How could I not have been changed from that?”
Abel’s jaw falls slack from shock, and I snap my own shut. Fuckingstupid.I shouldn’t have?—
“Lowest point… Peris, what are you talking about?” he asks softly, blonde brows furrowed as he slowly pushes to his feet. The scrape of the barstool makes me wince, and I spin back around, refusing to face him. I’msick.I can’t. I turn off the burner, so I don’t burn the food, my mind already somewhere far away.
There’s a soft shuffle across the floor, and then, warm knuckles are brushing down my spine. Slowly.Reverently. It hurts so good.
“Peris…”
“Don’t, Abel.” I choke on the words. “You’re always talking about rights? Well, for this? You fuckingdon’t.”
He takes a shuddering, deep breath. “You’re right. But you’re going to tell me anyway.”
I can’t help the coughing snort that escapes. “Oh, I am, am I?”
“Yes. Because it’s me,” he says easily, his breath ghosting over my skin as he leans into me, and I shudder, even as I find myself falling back into him.
It’s as easy as breathing, touching Abel. Letting him touch me. Just beingnearhim again. I don’t even have to think about it.
“You wanna know why I didn’t get my scholarship?”
“Yes.” His lips brush against my skin as he answers, and my heart is surprisingly calm as I relive one of the worst things I’ve ever experienced.
“Because I broke my hand. Punching my windshield.”
“You didwhat?”
“After I left the hotel that night. When I got home and looked at the house. Justseeingit made mesick.” I sneer the words, cutting myself off before I can get worked up, but my hands clench into fists anyway. The pain is still there sometimes, like right now when I ball my hand too tight, but this is more of a ghostly reminder kind of pain, and I relish in it.
I need it with him around, so I don’t lose my head completely.
Abel reaches around my midsection and grabs my right hand, already knowing which one was broken, and slowly unfurls my fingers one by one. He brushes his own fingers down mine in a featherlight touch that sends goosebumps scattering down my spine. I shiver, muscles twitching, as Abel continues to rub away the ache. Silently.
“Then, I got completely shit-faced and woke up to the worst phone call I ever could’ve gotten, I think. Well… one of them, anyway. So…” Abel stops his ministrations, and I almost groan in annoyance. It feels so good just to be touched so nicely, so innocently.
“Wait…” he rasps, choking on the word. “Please… please don’t tell me it was… Oh, God. Please don’t—” Abel stumbles away from me, eyes wide and glassy.
I clamp my hands down on his shoulders to steady him. “Abel, calm down.”
“If Elise… if she… I can’t…” He’s hyperventilating, but the moment he says Ma’s name, it all makes sense, and my vagueness slaps me in the face. Oh, fuck.
“No. Abel. Abel!” I shake him hard enough I’m sure his crooked teeth rattle until he’s looking at me, albeit with an unsteady gaze. “Are you listening?”
“Peris, I’m so sorry?—”
“Ma’s fine,” I blurt, hoping to shut him up, and it seems to have worked. His mouth drops open, and he blinks a few times very quickly.
“What?”
“Ma is fine. I wasn’t talking about her. She’s okay.”
Relief seems to fill him in an instant. Abel slumps against me, and I let him. Wrapping my arm around his waist, I drag him over to the corner of the counters and lift him on top of them. He sits on the counter and leans forward slightly, head hanging between his shoulders. His breath still seems to be coming a little too fast, but other than that, he seems to be doing all right.
“Are you okay?”
