My foot lands on the bottom step as soon as the door swings open, and I jerk my head around so fast that I lose my balance; my feet slide out from under me, and my back bows where it smacks against the edge of the step.
The breath whooshes from my lungs completely, leaving me immobile. For a second, as I blink up at the night sky, panic surges through me as I consider the possibility that I might actually be paralyzed.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Aiden hisses, and his sudden steps shake the porch, the thud of his quick approach reverberating in my spine.
“Ow,” I whisper, unable to do anything else. I want to close my eyes when he appears above me, his too-handsome face adding insult to injury, but my eyelids won’t budge.
Nothing moves, hard as I try to make my body obey.
And then an entirely new panic settles in, like floodgates being thrown open. In an instant, I’m lying on my back in my mother’s trailer, bleeding and aching and wishing more than anything that I could just get up.
If I could make my legs work, I could leave.
I could fight back.
For once, I wouldn’t be totally fucking powerless.
But it doesn’t work.
Because in truth, all I am, all I’ve ever been, is weak.
I hear the sob pierce the air more than I feel it, but when Aiden’s palm presses gently against my mouth, that’s all I feel. Channeling the sureness of his touch, I focus on regulating my breathing, looking up at him with teary eyes.
Even though he’s been awful to me, I let him pull me from the memory. Maybe that doesn’t help my case, but right now I don’t care.
“Are you hurt?” I try to shake my head, but I’m not sure it works. He glances down, frowning at my robe. “Fuck, Riley, what are you even doing out here? You’re not dressed for the snow.”
Prying my tongue from the roof of my mouth, I manage to shake his hand away. “You didn’t come o-over tonight.”
He blinks. “What?”
“You d-didn’t come over.” It’s hard to speak as the feeling slowly returns to my nerve endings, the frigid air sticking to my skin. “So, I c-came to y-you.”
For a long time, he doesn’t say anything, and I force a cough just for something else to focus on. My heart’s been shattered and left in bloody heaps on the floor, mortification winding around my windpipe and constricting until I can’t breathe all over again.
“Angel,” he finally says, swiping a thumb beneath my eye. “You’ve been waiting for me?”
“It’s stupid,” I croak.
Aiden shakes his head, his mouth hardening into a thin line, but he doesn’t say anything else. His eyes, though, glitter like pyrite, and I wish I knew what that meant.
I feel like a limp noodle as he bends, gathering me into his arms carefully. When he lifts, I wince, a sharp twinge splitting through my lower half.
He freezes, and I realize I must have made a sound or facial expression that alarmed him.
“Goddamnit,” he grits, and I see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. “Where does it hurt?”
I don’t answer, too overwhelmed by the whiplash he’s giving me. There’s still an undercurrent of anger, even when he’s handling me like I might break, and it’s confusing.
A strangled sound tears from his throat, and he walks back up the steps, clutching me so tight that I don’t jostle even a little. Once we’re in the foyer, he kicks the door shut, and the heat from his cabin immediately washes over me, returning feeling to my fingers.
I glance around the room, taking in the floral wallpaper and the bear-shaped rug lying in front of the fireplace. Like my cabin, the furniture inside is all handcrafted and pine, and there’s a brown suede sofa in the living room, which he spreads me out on.
“Don’t move,” he commands, and frankly, I’m not sure I could even if I wanted to.
The heat from the fire laps at my skin, and I roll slightly, presenting my aching back to the flames. A moan escapes my lips as the warmth soothes my pain, and I try to stifle it in one of the tacky deer print throw pillows.
“Riley.”
Aiden’s voice cuts through the air like a reprimand, and I shift my eyes up to find him standing over me, a bottle of water in one hand, the other turned upward like he’s holding something.
“Yes, Doctor?”
“Take these.” He shoves his hand out, revealing two little pink pills, and I frown at them. “It’s an antihistamine.”
“Like for allergies?”
“And inflammatory pain. It’s all I’ve got here.” Dumping the pills into my hand, he shifts me onto my side. “Although, I notice your rash hasn’t fully gone away.”
“I’m still using the lotion.”
His mouth twists up. “What? Why?”
Popping the pills into my mouth, I shake my head when he offers the water and swallow them dry. “The winter air dries out my skin, and I haven’t been in to see the doctor yet to know what ingredient it is I need to avoid.”
“So you’d rather have a rash than dry skin?”
“Don’t judge me.”
“I’m not. I’m just… trying to understand the logic.”
A weird laugh bubbles up out of my chest, and I roll over again, this time so I’m facing him. The silver of a chain necklace peeks out from his white T-shirt, and his hands are stuffed in the pockets of his black sweatpants.
“Here’s something you need to understand about me,” I say. “Not all of my actions are driven by logic. Sometimes I just do things, regardless of the consequences.”
“Like, walk to a man’s house even though he’s made it clear he wants to hurt you.”
Running my tongue over the fronts of my teeth, I shrug. “You don’t really want to hurt me.”
“I don’t?”
“Nope.” My lips smack against the end of the word. “If you did, you would’ve left me outside to freeze.”
He hums, crouching down on his knees beside the sofa. When he smooths his hand over my forehead, his rings are cool against my warm skin.
“Maybe I want to hurt you on my own terms,” he murmurs, minty breath brushing my temple.
There’s certainly no denying he wants to. I’m just starting to question how strong that desire beats compared to the others.