Page 8 of Bound By Blood

Quickly stripping, she headed to the shower and turned the hot water on. She needed to wash away the remnants of last night. She needed to soothe her body, and she needed to clear her head.

Once the shower was steaming, she stepped inside. She stood under the hot water, letting it cascade through her hair and down her back. She turned and faced the spray. It beat against her face.

Who was this guy? And why her? Why did he pick her?

With few answers and many questions, she grabbed the soap and began washing her body. The suds created bubbles on her arms and they popped one by one before she washed it off.

She grabbed the shampoo, scrubbing her scalp. The massage of her fingers felt good, clearing her head a little. She rinsed it off and picked up the conditioner. Once she was cleaned, she turned off the water and grabbed a towel that was on a hook outside the shower. She quickly dried herself off, careful of her neck.

At this point, even as she headed to the sink to brush her teeth, she was running on autopilot.

When she was finished brushing her teeth and combing her damp hair, she looked at the marks once more. Would they get infected? She didn’t know, but she opened her cabinet and dug out the first aid kit. She searched for the ointment, and when she had it, she applied it to the marks then pressed a large Band-Aid over it. It was an eyesore. Everyone would notice, and she had yet to come up with what answers she would give them.

She sighed at herself. She’d think of something.

Her footsteps were quiet as she headed out of the bathroom and to her closet. She searched through her clothes. As she fingered the garments, she started to get annoyed. She couldn’t help but be a little pissed that she’d never see this stranger again.

Again, it was irrational to have such an attraction to someone who had attacked her, but she couldn’t help it. Her own dark past had made her more than just some fluffy romantic. His darkness had called to her on some level, and she was intrigued, wanting to know more.

“Fucking asshole.” Because he had taken something from her. Not her sense of safety but her ability to control her feelings. Hell, she could still remember the feel of his hard body pressed against her. Again, her legs clenched together. “Fucky fuck.”

She snatched a black t-shirt from the hanger and then picked up a pair of black jeans with holes in the thighs. She slid on some socks, still angry.

Grumbling under her breath, she headed to her door. Her hand lingered on the doorknob. “What the hell am I going to tell Lily?” There was no way she was gone by now, no way she wasn’t up and enduring her daily routine. Through her door, she could hear the teapot whistling.

She rubbed at her face as she opened the door. Her shirt snapped when she straightened it, ready to face the music.

Carly rounded the corner from the hallway and stepped into the kitchen. Lily was already there, drinking her tea, dressed in a gray business suit. The pencil skirt hugged her in all the right places, and her skinny frame made Carly frown for a moment.

Lily was leaning a hip into the counter while she read the paper sprawled across its granite surface. She had yet to notice Carly.

“Come on, Carly,” Carly whispered to herself. She balled her fists at her sides. “Grow some balls.”

Gritting her teeth, she stepped fully out of the hallway’s shadows and into the kitchen’s bright lights. With confidence, she strode to the fridge. She plucked out the milk and headed to the cupboard, prepared to make herself a bowl of cereal. As she was pouring the cereal, Lily finally spoke.

“Good morning to you, too.” Out of the corner of Carly’s eyes, she could see her friend turn to face her. Her mug was in her hand, halfway to her lips. The steam curled around her nose.

“Morning,” Carly grumbled. She headed to the table, plopped down, and began pouring her cereal.

Lily’s gaze had followed Carly. Carly could see her raise a perfectly shaped eyebrow at her. Clearly, she wasn’t done with Carly yet. “Did you have fun last night?”

When Carly peeked at her, she was grinning. What the hell was she supposed to tell her? Better yet, what exactly did Lily think happened? “What do you mean?”

Lily set down her mug and tapped her neck. “The bandage does nothing to hide the fact that you had a little fun after you left.”

Carly touched the Band-Aid; then she lifted her spoon full of cereal to her mouth. After chewing, she said, “It’s none of your business.”

Lily snorted. “So testy. You would think, after you got laid, you’d be more civil. Are you at least going to tell me details?”

She stiffened with the spoon midway to her lips. “There are no details to give.”

“You don’t remember it?” Lily frowned.

“Nope.” She didn’t like lying. It didn’t settle well with her.

“That’s a shame. It looked pretty kinky.”

Carly could tell her what was going on, but Lily would never believe her. This was something she was going to have to keep to herself. At least, until she found out the truth. She had no idea where to start, she had no idea if she would ever see that man again, but she had to. The idea of not seeing him again hurt something in her chest. Caused it to ache. She held back from rubbing it.