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O pal woke up with a gasp, staring around in fear.

Where was he?

Had he heard her wake up? Was he coming again?

“Opal?”

She screamed and shied back, groaning in pain.

Fucking shit.

“Baby, hell. Are you all right? Did I scare you? Fucking fucking fuck shit.”

To her surprise, she felt like laughing.

“What is it?” Renard asked.

“Nothing. You’re just speaking my language. Ow. Why did that hurt so much?”

“Because you’re battered and bruised,” Renard growled. “You need to stay still. You’re due some more pain relief, though.”

Lucky her.

Only good thing about being in the hospital was the intravenous drugs. Now that she was out of the hospital, she had to swallow them like a big girl.

Not cool.

“I . . . this is your apartment.” She remembered now. She’d been in the hospital, but for some dumb reason, she’d begged to be allowed to leave. Renard had brought her here instead of taking her to her house.

Opal didn’t know why.

Probably worried you’d freak out if you went there.

Maybe she would. It was hard to know until she tried going back there. But perhaps not today. That was a worry for tomorrow.

“Yeah, baby. You were discharged from the hospital yesterday afternoon. You’ve been sleeping a lot. Do you remember me bringing you here?”

Uh huh.

Sure, she did.

Not really, though.

“Vaguely,” she said, coughing slightly. “I wasn’t sure where I was when I woke up.”

Renard’s face tightened. “You thought you were back there? With that fucking bastard?”

“Yeah. My throat hurts. Is there any water?”

He walked over to the nightstand where she’d failed to see a glass of water sitting.

“Sorry, didn’t see it there.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.”

He helped her sit up, putting some pillows behind her. Then he held the glass of water to her lips while she sipped.

“You need to take your pills.” He picked up a pill bottle and shook two out onto the palm of his hand. “I’m also going to make you a smoothie as you’ve barely eaten. Here you are. Open up.”

She grimaced as she tried to open her mouth wide. God, her lip hurt.

Well, who was she kidding? Everything hurt.

He put the pills on her tongue and she felt her throat close up. But before she could protest, he placed the glass of water against her lips and tilted it so she had no choice but to swallow.

Water went down the side of her mouth, which was embarrassing. But he simply used his fingers to gently wipe it away.

“I’ll go get that smoothie started. Unless you feel like something else?”

“No, I’m not really hungry.” At least she was feeling more alert now.

“All right. I’ll be back soon,” he told her.

She sat up further in the bed, trying to ignore the pain in her body. Hey, at least she had experience with recovering from beatings, right?

When Renard returned, he had a tall glass with the smoothie in it, along with a straw. She forced herself to take a few sips as he held the glass for her.

“I’m good, thanks,” she said, sitting back.

He frowned. “You need more, baby. It will help with your recovery.”

Right. Her recovery. God, she must look like hell.

She hadn’t had a chance to look at herself in the mirror, yet. And suddenly, it became imperative that she did that.

“I don’t have any of my stuff here. I need to get my clothes.” She stared down at herself. “What am I dressed in?”

He studied her for a moment. “One of my T-shirts. Lilac and Ryleigh brought you some things, though.”

Relief filled her. She remembered them visiting her in the hospital after she’d given her statement to Jake. But by that stage, she’d been kind of out of it.

“They did? Can I have it? I need a mirror,” she told him. “And my makeup. Did Ryleigh and Lilac bring my makeup?”

There was panic in her voice that he didn’t understand. How could she think about makeup right now?

She had just gotten out of the fucking hospital. They’d kept her in a couple of nights, but she’d begged them to let her go home and they hadn’t had a real reason to keep her. Not a physical reason, anyway.

Not when he planned to give her round-the-clock care.

Understandably, she’d been sleeping a lot and not in any state to make good decisions about her care. So he’d brought her back to his place.

He looked her over. One eye was swollen shut and the other wasn’t much better. Her lip was busted and if she wasn’t careful it kept cracking open and bleeding. There were bruises down her back and hips from where that bastard had kicked her and shoved her into a wall.

Fucking kicked her!

Both of her wrists were bandaged, they’d been rubbed raw from the rope and she had two badly broken fingers on her left hand. She was lucky he hadn’t broken her hand, but the entire thing was swollen and bandaged. And she had more marks around her throat from where he’d shoved her against a wall and choked her.

And she was worried about makeup? That was something he did not understand.

“Baby, you are not putting makeup on,” he told her gently. “You can’t. You’ll hurt yourself.”

“I need it.”

“You don’t need it.”

“You don’t understand. I do,” she cried.

“Why?” he asked, walking over to the bed. “Why would you want to put makeup on?”

She shuffled around as though trying to get comfortable. But all she did was wince in pain. God, he hated that so much.

“Gem, stop. You’re hurting yourself.” And Renard would do anything to make sure she never hurt again. It was a burning need inside his gut.

“I need a mirror. Do you have one or do I need to go to the bathroom?”

“You don’t need a mirror.”

“I do,” she insisted.

“You should be resting and healing. Not worrying about this.”

“You don’t get it,” she cried, sounding distressed.

Shit. Should he just give her what she wanted? The last thing he wanted was to make her feel worse. All he wanted right now was to take care of her.

But surely it was crazy to put makeup on right now?

“Then tell me. Tell me how you’re feeling. Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”

She attempted what he thought was a smirk but ended up being a grimace. “Don’t know what you mean, darlin’. There’s nothing going on except that I need my makeup.”

He shook his head. “Do you want to talk about what happened?” She should, right?

And he’d need to control his temper as she did. Because this wasn’t about him.

It was all about her.

“No!” she said sharply. Then she sighed. “Sorry, but I had to talk to Jake about it and I’m talked out right now. I don’t want to think about it. I just want to do my makeup.”

He paced up and down the bedroom. “Damn it. I want to help you.”

Her face softened. “You are helping me.”

Renard shook his head, frustration riding him hard. “No! I’m not. I can help you physically, but I can’t help you with the stuff in here,” he pointed to his head, “or here,” he patted his chest.

“I don’t need help.”

“Opal, baby. You were kidnapped, you were beaten and held against your will. Terrorized. That leaves a mark on someone.”

“I’m tough.”

“Nobody is so tough that they can just power through that. It would leave a mark on anyone. Talk to me, baby,” he pleaded.

“I . . . I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Just let me in.” He turned and walked swiftly closer, raising his hand to brush his fingers through his hair in frustration.

The flash of fear on her face was enough to have him stumbling backward.

Fuck!

Fuck what was he doing?

Why was he pressing her like this when she obviously wasn’t ready to talk?

He knew that Stefan had treated her badly, that she had lived through something horrific.

Yet, she hadn’t shown any sign, not once, of being scared of him.

She went to the club, she had scened with strangers, she’d played up until he’d spanked her.

And she hadn’t shown fear.

But now . . .

Her barriers were lowered. Her defenses down. And he’d just moved sharply toward her after she’d been kidnapped and beaten.

He was the worst type of person . . . of man.

You don’t fucking deserve her.

What do you know about protecting something precious?

He could see how fragile she was under her bravado. She needed a delicate touch, not a bulldozer.

Fuck.

Fuck!

“I’ll leave,” he said in a quiet voice, backing up slowly so he didn’t upset her again. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

“What?” she asked, gaping at him.

God. When he looked at what that asshole had done to her, he wanted to puke. He wanted to take her into his arms and keep her safe. He wanted to burn the whole fucking world down just to protect her from anyone who might seek to harm her.

But what if the one person she was scared of was him?

Fuck!

He’d thought that he was capable of taking care of her. Obviously, he’d been fooling himself. Here he was bulldozing her into trying to open up to him.

“I . . . fuck, baby. I’m so sorry. I’m going to leave. You don’t have to worry about me scaring you or upsetting you. Okay? I just need to contact Lilac and Tanner. They’ll come and take care of you. I’ll need to wait until they get here, though, because you can’t be alone . . . I can’t leave you alone. But they’ll be here soon and they will take care of you.” He turned away before he did something stupid like go to her and beg her to give him another chance.

Someone like him didn’t deserve a second chance.

He didn’t deserve to be happy.

He should have died that day . . . why hadn’t he died that day?

“Renard! Renard, please!”

He walked into the living room. Where the fuck was his phone?

“Renard.” Her voice cracked. Wait, she sounded too close. He whirled to find her right behind him.

She flinched again, stepping back.

Fuck. He was messing this up so badly. It was no wonder she couldn’t trust him.

“Opal, what are you doing?” he said as softly as he could manage. It wasn’t easy. “You shouldn’t be up and about. I didn’t even know you were behind me. I could have accidentally knocked you over.”

She was in no state to get out of bed.

“Then you would have just picked me back up,” she told him. “Or I hope that’s what you would have done.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked. A tear dripped down her face and alarm filled him. “Opal, are you in pain?”

“Why am I Opal?” she asked.

Huh?

What was she trying to ask? He didn’t understand.

“What do you mean?” Was she confused? Forgetful? Shit, he should call Jenna.

“Why’re you calling me Opal?” she asked. “Is it because I’m too much work? Because I wouldn’t open up with you? Is that why you’re walking away? I get it. I know I’m not everyone’s cup of tea. But I thought I was yours. At least, a little bit.”

Anger filled him. He remembered her saying that before.

“Fucking hate tea,” he told her.

Her good eye flared open, sadness filling her face.

“But you . . . you’re exactly my cup of coffee. When I’m around you, you pick me up. You make me feel like I’m buzzing. The world seems different. It’s not so gray. It’s not so dull. It’s not coming at me through a filter. I’m living it with you. Because you give me something to live for, to wake up for in the morning.”

“I do that for you?”

He reached for her, then drew back. One, he wasn’t sure where to touch her without hurting her. Two, he didn’t want her to flinch away from him again.

The very last thing he wanted was for her to fear him.

“Yeah, you do.”

“Then why are you leaving? Why won’t you touch me? Why won’t you call me baby or Gem?”

He blinked. “Is that what you meant when you asked why are you Opal?”

She nodded, then winced.

“Careful, I don’t want you hurting yourself. You need to go back to bed.”

“Is it because I’m ugly now?” she whispered.

Oh, fuck no.

“Ugly!” he yelled.

She jumped.

Calm.

Shit.

You can do this. Softly. Softly.

“You could not under any circumstance be ugly,” he told her quietly. “You’re the most beautiful, sexy, strongest woman I’ve ever met. You call yourself ugly and we’re going to have trouble, you and me. None of what happened is in any way your fault, understand me?”

“I hear you,” she whispered hoarsely, drawing closer. “But what happened to me wasn’t your fault, either.”

“I should have been with you. I nearly lost you.”

Like I lost them.

“You can’t be with me all the time.”

“Can damn well try.”

She shook her head and winced. Fuck. He needed to get her back to bed so she could rest.

“What happened to your team wasn’t on you. No one could have predicted their deaths. And no one had any idea about Barney, not even Mrs. G. So how could you know? And you take care of me in all the ways that matter.”

“I scared you, I made you flinch away from me. You were afraid of me,” he said starkly.

She stared at him for a long moment. “I try to ignore his voice calling me a slut, telling me that I’m ugly and dumb. But sometimes I struggle. When you moved your hand like that . . . it wasn’t you I was seeing and it wasn’t Barney.”

Fuck.

Suddenly, she turned away and he could sense her retreating again.

No.

His heart raced. What was he doing? “Gem, please look at me.”

She turned to him, her eyes wet with tears.

And he took the plunge. Because he realized that walking away right now was the wrong play.

What she needed was someone to fight for her. So, for better or worse, he was going to be the one to fight for her.

“I thought you were dead, baby. And I knew that if you were, I was dead too.”

“No, no.” Tears dripped down her poor, swollen face.

“Give it to me, baby. Give it all to me. Tell me what happened to you and I’m not talking about Barney. I know you think that the worst is gonna happen. That you’ll open up and lay everything on me and I’ll fall down, I’ll collapse under the pressure. But I’m made of tougher stuff than that. You can trust me.”

She shook her head, a sob breaking free.

“I can see you’ve got a lot of emotion trapped inside of you. It’s not healthy. I’m your person, Gem. Tell me.”

“You don’t want all of me!” she cried.

He kept his relief hidden, but he did let out a small sigh. Thank fuck she was opening up. That poison had to come out.

“I do.”

“You don’t!”

“Gem, you can argue with me until we’re both blue in the face, but I fucking want it all. And you know I am not a man who lies.”

She heaved for breath. Once. Twice.

“How can you want it when it will contaminate you?” she cried.

His head reared back as though she had slapped him.

“Contaminate me?” he said hoarsely.

“Yes, contaminate you! I will contaminate you. Because what is inside me . . . it’s ugly and it’s dirty and it’s horrible and I do not want it touching you.”