Page 27 of Dark Surrender

Not. A. Damn. Thing.

I barely slept last night.

This is the first meal I’ve eaten in well over a day, or is it two?

At least my headache’s gone.

If only this annoying erection would get with the program. It pulses in time with the wound on my chest.

Not wanting to make this woman any more uncomfortable than she already is, I tuck into my food and take my time savoring the umami flavors. It’s been ages since I’ve had sushi. Penelope doesn’t care for it, so it’s never around. Which, I now realize, makes me sound like a fuckin’ tool. Like, I couldn’t go out and eat sushi if I wanted. Sure, I could.

When Ava pulls her food out of the threadbare backpack and eats with her fingers, now that her chopsticks are somewhere around here, covered in my blood, I pretend not to watch her, but secretly do. There’s an innocence to her as she sits forward, plastic containers perched on her thighs, head down, while she eats. The sweat on her head shimmers in the sunlight. I wonder if it’s soft. The skin there. As soft as the rest of her looks.

Christ.

I need to get a grip.

As if she can read my fucked-up thoughts, Penelope pounds on the wall. The vibrations rattle up my spine, and Ava looks up just as Pen speaks. “What’s going on?!”

I don’t reply to my wife. There’s nothing to say.

“Aren’t you going to answer her?” Ava asks, looking at me like I’ve suddenly grown two heads.

“No.”

“But she’s your wife.”

“On paper.”

“I don’t understand.”

“There’s a lot at play here, beyond what you know.”

“Do you care to share?” She offers me a lifeline, and do I take it? Of course not. What’s the point?

“No,” I grumble.

“Why?”

“Because it changes nothing. I’ve done what I’ve done. I’ve hurt who I’ve hurt. I can’t change that, and I can’t take it back.”

“Would you?”

“Take it back?”

Ava looks at me with such openness that it fucks with my head. “Yeah. If you could?”

“Some of it. Yes. But this…” I wave my hand around. “Was inevitable.”

Ava frowns but doesn’t reply. She finishes her food, I finish mine, and when I’m through, I shove the containers across the floor so she doesn’t have to get close to me to clean them up. The last thing I want is her fear. I’ve never intentionally harmed women. At least, not the innocent ones. It’s always been my job to protect them, and I’ve done a shit job of that as of late.

Staring out the door, into the green brush around the cabin, barn, or whatever the hell this place is, Ava rubs her hands up and down her thighs.

The weight of her thoughts presses in on me, making it hard to breathe. Anticipation tingles in my throat as I wait for her to speak. To act. To declare something. Anything.

Penelope’s voice carries as she repeatedly yells for me, demanding I respond.

But I don’t.