Page 47 of Undertow

Thankfully, that timeline is also plausible for a “bartender’s shift” and travel back to Undertow.

Julia straightens from the couch when I push through her front door. My chest tightens at the relief on her face. I don’t even remember the last time someone cared enough to wait up for me.

Her eyes skim my face in the silence, widening at the damage.

God, if she only knew the depth of the carnage she’s looking at.

“Shaw…”

“You’re still up,” I say with a crooked smile.

The sting of my lip reminds me how messed up I must look. I showered and put on a new uniform, but there’s not much you can do with the rest of an amateur ass-kicking. Exactly why rulenumber one in torture and physical reprimands is to stay away from the face.

I learned that before I learned how to read.

“What happened?” she breathes out, coming around the side of the couch.

“What, this?” I wave over myself. “There was this truck full of kittens and…”

She rolls her eyes, but I see the hint of a smile on her perfect lips. I force away thoughts of how soft they are. How they taste. How much I want them to soothe other parts of my body and fill just a sliver of my void with something good for one damn second.

To have someone touch me who isn’t trying to hurt me.

“Kittens, huh? Must have been quite the brawl.”

I shrug with a slight smile. “What can I say? They outnumbered me. Besides, who’s gonna fight back against those tiny ears and adorable paws?”

Her amusement fades as she moves toward me. After just a few steps, she stops abruptly, as if she also knows we can’t be near each other without giving in.

“What really happened? Didtheydo this to you?”

My humor dies too, and I avert my gaze in a telling response. I’ve spent the last hour trying to figure out how I was going to transition back to Undertow. I’m so drained mentally and physically, all I could come up with was playing on her sympathy to buy more time and emotional equity.

I’m just… tired. So fucking exhausted from it all.

Lifting my head again, I allow the fear to seep onto my face. “They found out I ran and wanted to know why…” I blink back emotion and stare at the floor. Real emotion? Do I even know how to cry anymore?

“Hey, it’s okay,” she says softly, closing the protective gap between us.

The air changes when our atmospheres collide. I feelher approach in the barometric pressure. When her hand rests on my arm, what was meant as a gesture of comfort becomes something else. Her fingers sink into my skin. She steps closer.

“I’m scared,” I say, searching tempting blue eyes now just inches away. “I want to help you, I just…”

“You’re shaking.”

I nod, blinking through my fake fear. Or real. Or… God, I don’t even know anymore.

Iamshaking. I’m fucking trembling and I can’t stop it.

“I’m sorry,” I say, fighting the rebellion of my body. My mind is still on duty, but the rest of me… Something is cracking inside. I’m losing control.

“I thought I could do this.” Ihaveto do this.

Get yourself together, Shaw. Get yourself together, you weak piece of…

My eyes clench shut when I can’t stop the memories.

“Oh, you’re gonna cry now? No one wants to see your pathetic tears.”