Mayhem (Deathstalkers MC #5)(29)

"Thank you." My voice is a whisper but I know he heard me because the smile comes back.

About half an hour in, the main character makes a joke and I laugh out loud. Cutter turns in his seat and looks over at me. I freeze.



       
         
       
        

He nudges me with his elbow. "Don't stop. It's nice to hear you laugh."

A giddy feeling wells up inside me and I blush. He doesn't move his arm away and the heat coming from his body seeps through the blanket. I feel the weight of it like it's more than just a simple body part, and it take a good five minutes before I can concentrate enough to pay attention to the movie again.

We sit on the couch laughing at the movie until the credits start to roll. I yawn, stretching my arms out, carefully, so as not to hurt myself. The light from outside has begun to fade. I look around for a clock, but find nothing.

"I'm going to order a pizza for dinner. They usually take about an hour, anything you don't like?"

I shake my head.

"Okay." Cutter stands up and grabs his phone off the table, punching in a number without even looking at a menu from the kitchen. I hear him ordering food and can't help feeling awkward. I should be doing something. I've never just sat at home all day.

Chatter sounds outside and when the front door opens, Lucy and the man who was here yesterday walk in. There is another girl I don't know who is with them. They're all carrying bags and walk over to the kitchen table putting them down.

Cutter walks over to them and they start to talk, I don't get up.

"Jasmine, you already met Lucy. This is her man, Whip." He gestures to the other girl. She smiles shyly, and gives a small wave. "This is Izzy. She's with another one of my brothers." I give them all a smile but feel awkward as I sit here. Like an intruder.

"All right, brother, we'll catch up with you later," Whip says to Cutter.

The girls give him a hug good-bye before offering me a smile and leaving.

"Come here."

I stand up and walk over to where he is. Digging through one of the bags, he comes up with a pink pair of pants and a black T-shirt. "Go put on some clothes that fit. There are plenty of other things here, but we can check those out later."

I take them from him, my eyes growing wide when I take in how much he actually has for me. "Thank you."

I don't know what else to say, or how to react to him.

When I walk into the bedroom I get dressed and look in the mirror. I gaze at my reflection in the glass, noting my protruding collarbone and sunken cheeks. Thanks to my shower the dried blood is gone and only a few scratches remain. Who knew scratches could bleed so much?

I've never been a vain person. Never looked in mirrors for more than a brief glance. But standing here in my new clothes, clothes that fit, in a house where I don't feel scared, having spent the afternoon watching the television of all things, I almost don't recognize the woman staring back at me. For the first time in years, I don't see what Dylan saw. 

I don't see a chubby, lazy, ugly girl.

I don't see someone who doesn't belong.

Someone who is worthless.

I see a woman.

A beaten, battered, bruised woman. But not entirely broken. Reflecting back at me in the glass, I see something more than just clean hair and new clothes.

I see hope.

My eyes roam from one feature to another, cataloging everything, committing it to memory in case this is the last time I ever look at myself and be okay with what I find. When I walk back into the living room I'm about to say thank you when there is a knock at the door. Cutter walks over to it and there is a guy standing there holding three boxes.

Jesus, how hungry is he?

Cutter shuts the door and then turns to me. "Got a bunch of different stuff. I figured you might not know what you like." He places them on the counter and waves me over.

When he opens the boxes, the smell jumps out at me and my mouth starts to water. My eyes go wide as I look at everything. I'm not even sure how I'm hungry again, but I almost feel like I'm starving. Cutter hands me a plate and I reach to grab a slice but hesitate.

"Your ass is getting fat. If you want to keep a man around, looking like a pig isn't the way."

"Hey." Cutter's voice makes me jump. "What's wrong? Shit. Did I manage to get everything that you don't like?"

I shake my head, my eyes welling with tears. Despite my efforts to hide them, he sees, taking my plate and putting it down. I can't help but wonder how long it will be till he gets sick of having me around too.

"Talk to me."

I look at him and I'm scared to tell him what I'm thinking.