Page 40 of Bleed Me

Slowly, she inhaled. “Yes.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been mean to you.”

“It’s okay—”

I lifted a brow, daring her to lie again.

Her shoulders slumped. “I mean, I understand why.”

“Why do you think I do it? Push you away?”

Softly, she confessed, “Because you are so sad.”

I looked away. I was sad for so many reasons it was hard to count them all. “Don’t make it right, though.”

“No, but excusable.”

I stared at her. “Thank you for coming and finding me. I don’t want to be alone.”

“I won’t leave you. I’ll stay until you’re ready to go home.”

Home… I had just been remembering a time and place that represented a horror story, not what I have here. Especially in front of me. “Saph?”

“Yeah?”

I hurt. I hurt so deep inside that I couldn’t reach the pain or find a way to gain any relief. It was agony. The cold sensation left me with a chill beyond what the rain was causing. I felt I was back on that lonely island; lost in a dark sea no one had ever heard of.

“Giver?”

I had nothing to offer. Not to Justice, not to anyone, but I didn’t want to be alone anymore. I didn’t want to be cold anymore. I didn’t want to feel the memories and how they excluded me from the rest of the world. But… felt I was deserving of what I was getting. I had hurt Delilah. That was all that mattered now. “Never mind.”

Her arms slowly fell from her legs. “Giver? Can I please come to you? I won’t do anything you don’t want.”

The hope that she could offer a glimpse of warmth…

I couldn’t answer. I didn’t dare open my mouth as I feared I would start sobbing, begging her for salvation. Anything other than what was tormenting me.

Ever so slowly, she got to her knees. “I don’t lie.”

Please help me.

Unrushed, her hand reached forward… “Nothing you don’t want.”

My eyes shut in pain as my face curled into her warm palm. I inhaled, searching for humanity and compassion.

Her tenderness was the flag of mercy I needed. I didn’t fight her as that hand gently tilted my mouth so I could taste empathy. Behind closed eyelids, my eyes welled as soft lips pressed to mine. A sharp intake escaped me as I begged for more of the soothing touch. After all the memories had battered me to the core, this kindness was like homemade chicken noodle soup; something my mother never made me.

So, I took.

I opened my mouth and took all Saph was willing to gift this exhausted soul.

She gave.

With organic sympathy, her other hand cradled my face, her mouth blending with mine. The sensual kiss went beyond a dance of tongues. It was like we were communicating, comprehending each other’s pain. She was a club girl—a whore, in a sense. There was no way to deny she had her issues, too. This night, we let them fuse together and found peace in each other’s arms.

With her in my lap, I apologized. “I’m sorry I haven’t been kind to you.”

Her voice was gentle and sweet. “Be kind to me now.”