Page 51 of Redemption

“I’ll get you something to eat,” he says. “Food, then painkillers. I don’t want to see you suffering.”

Again, it’s all about what he wants. Not the fact that I’m in pain. He’s incapable of true empathy.

I close my eyes again, shutting him out in the only way that I can. He doesn’t make a sound for several long seconds, but finally, I hear him stomp out of the bedroom.

I know my reprieve will be short; he’ll come back with breakfast in a few minutes. Without his infuriating presence to draw my ire, pain consumes me.

After breakfast,the painkillers finally start to take effect. I ease back into the pillows, cushioned in fluffy clouds. The absence of pain is almost euphoric, and some part of me registers that I’m probably a little high from the strength of the drugs he gave me.

But I’ll take the dulled awareness over the pounding in my head and sharp stabs at my ribs with every shallow breath.

“Screen time is inadvisable,” Dane says. “I’ll read to you so you don’t get bored.”

I blink and manage to focus on him. He’s sitting on the too-small, pale blue chaise, his massive body almost comically oversized for the delicate antique.

I instantly recognize the book he’s holding, even though his big hand conceals most of the title.

The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue.

My favorite book. The one we bonded over.

I choose the dark god too.His remembered words torment me. At the time, they’d been a revelation, a miracle. The man I wanted so desperately understood my desires. It’d seemed like a dream, too impossible to be real.

I should’ve trusted my instincts.

“What made you pick upAddie LaRue?” I ask, even though I’m reluctant to hear the answer. “You never did tell me.”

He cuts his eyes away. “I think you know.”

Yes, some part of me did already know. He’s broken into my apartment. He must’ve seen the book at the top of my stack.

Uncomfortable silence stretches between us. I don’t have to reply or ask more questions.

He’s my stalker, my attacker.

And yet, when he starts reading my favorite book aloud in that deep, rumbling voice, I sink into the familiar story.

It’s so much easier than facing the horrors of my reality.

“You’ll want a bath.You’ll have to be careful with your stitches, but you can get properly cleaned up.”

My stomach turns. “I have no interest in getting naked with you.”

His nostrils flare with irritation. “I didn’t ask you to get naked with me.”

“No, you didn’t ask at all. Do you even know how to make a request? How to ask for my consent?”

He sighs. “I’m tired of arguing. It doesn’t have to be so contentious between us.”

I lift my brows at him but don’t say anything in response. I will not make life easy for him.

“I don’t intend to bathe you, as much as I would like to.” At least he’s honest enough to make the admission, even if he is making a concession for once. “You need to rest and recover. I’m not going to cause you distress.”

“Of course,” I say dully. “This is about making sure your pet recovers.”

He sighs again, a more exasperated exhalation. “I do want you to recover, Abigail. Is that so terrible?”

“Depending on your reasoning, yes. It can be.”