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Touching Scars(83)

By:Stacy Borel


“You sure it was him?” I asked.

“Yeah, I’m positive. The guy was still using a crutch to move around. They got into a black Tahoe before driving off. Did he end up pressing charges?” Beaver asked.

“No, I got that call late yesterday. The cop told me that I was lucky. Adam had three broken ribs, one of which punctured his lung, and I’d torn his spleen somehow.”

Beaver grunted. “Motherfucker deserved it and so much more.”

I couldn’t agree more. “I’m sure he knows that his days are numbered.”

“What do you mean?” Kat’s tiny voice spoke up from behind me. I hadn’t realized she’d gotten up and was listening to my end of the conversation.

“You need to go take care of her?” Beaver asked.

“Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow.” We ended our call and I turned to face her. She looked so small, standing in front of me with one of my old football jersey on. It hit her right above the knee, and she had on a pair of purple fuzzy slippers. We haven’t been intimate since the morning that all of this shit happened, and I was missing touching her like crazy. But as it stood right now, I needed to help her work us back up to that point.

Reaching my hand out to her, she tentatively stepped into my embrace and allowed me to wrap her up in my arms and hold her. Kat’s familiar coconut scent washed over me and any anger that remained from talking about Adam dissolved. I buried my nose in the top of her head and relished that she was letting me comfort her. It had been too long.

“You okay?” she asked in a quiet whisper.

I snorted. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?”

She tilted her head back to look at me. I felt her long hair brushing across the back of my arms. “No.” She was being entirely too serious. “You’ve been taking care of me for two weeks now and constantly making sure that I’m the one that’s okay. It hasn’t gone unnoticed that you haven’t slept much, or that you’ve barely let me out of your sight, Timber. So no, I don’t think you need to be the one asking me anything. I want to know how you are.”

My sweet girl was concerned about me and it melted me. I gave her a genuine smile and kissed her on her forehead. “I’m fine, baby. As long as you’re good, I’m good.” And I really was. She showed me love and tenderness when she found me in the shower several months ago. She dropped everything she was doing to help pull me together and stayed by my side. She’d let me come tearing into her life like a Tasmanian devil. She’d let me completely upend her world, and yet this dark haired beauty took to me and my grumpy ass with minimal complaining. She owned me. So yeah, as long as she was good, I was good. It was only when she wasn’t good that I worried.

“Are you ready for bed? I can tuck you in?” I asked, smoothing her hair back from her eyes. Just the mentioning of going to sleep caused her to yawn. I smiled again. “Yeah, my girl is sleepy.”

The corners of her lips quirked up. “I’m going to go brush my teeth really quick.”

She pulled out of my arms and went to the bathroom, shutting the door and locking it behind her. I hated and loved that she did that now. I loved that she picked up the habit of locking the doors wherever she went, but I also hated that she was separated from me by a thick piece of wood. Granted, I’d bust through it in a heartbeat if she needed me, but still, it was a barrier I didn’t care for. Sighing, I went over to her bed and pulled back her comforter and sheet. Fluffing her pillows up, I walked to the small closet to grab the blanket and pillow that I’d been using to sleep on the couch and went to make up my bed.

Unfortunately, one of the things that she had trouble dealing with after the attack was me being in bed with her at night. We’d tried it the first night we got to my place after her hospitalization and she’d woken up in the middle of the night, completely disoriented, and attacked me. She didn’t hurt me, but it was enough to set her off and she’d asked that I sleep elsewhere until she thought she could handle it.

I was just lying down when the lock clicked and the bathroom door opened. My sweet and make-up free Kat walked out and went to her bed in the corner. I reached behind me and shut off the lamp on the end table but the room wasn’t completely dark. It was a full moon and plenty of light filtered in through the open curtains.

“Timber?” She was so quiet.

“Hmmm?”

There was a brief pause before she spoke again. “I’d like to try again.”

She didn’t have to explain what she was referring to. I knew right away.