“How is he?”
I glanced at Nila. The simplistic beauty of her onyx eyes and sexy lips twitched my cock again. “He’s still alive.” My voice hung in the stagnant quiet. No horses were hobbled tonight—the dogs slept across the yard, and the witching hour gave us our own seclusion from reality, hiding us from nightmares.
Nila plucked at the plaid blanket that I’d placed over the hay bale. “Will he remain that way?”
My heart clenched. I hope so. “He will if he knows what’s good for him.”
She smiled but didn’t laugh, too full of melancholy to lighten the mood. There was no lightening the mood—not when a brother and friend was dying.
Changing the subject, I looped my fingers with hers. “Can I ask you something?”
She nodded slowly. “Of course.”
“Can you take off the hood? I want to see you. You’re in too much shadow.”
Instantly, her emotions scrambled. Fear drenched, followed by despair. Sitting up, she shook her head. “I’d prefer to keep it on. I’m cold.” To add value to her lie, she gathered her coat tightly and hugged herself.
I soared upright. “Bullshit. I know when you’re lying. Just like I knew you were lying in most of the texts you sent.”
Her shoulders hunched. Her hands went to either side of her hood, keeping it tight around her face.
Moving in front of her, I tugged on the black material. “Nila…take off the hood.”
“No.”
“Nila…” My voice dropped to a growl. “What are you hiding from me?”
Tears glassed her eyes.
My heart splintered. “Nila, please. I can’t stand it when you don’t tell me the truth.” My hands pulled again, fighting against her hold.
A single tear slipped down her face. “Please…don’t make me.”
My heart stopped beating.
“What happened to you? When I first saw you, you were almost dead inside. I feel you coming back to life, but something’s changed.” My voice turned heavy. “Please, Nila. Let me fix this. Whatever happened; let me try to help.”
More tears ran silently down her face. She looked away. “I—I was weak. I gave in. I didn’t think I had anything left inside me.” Her breath caught. “But then I saw you, and I remembered why I was fighting. You gave me purpose again. You reminded me that I’m still cared for and it’s my duty. Not to stay alive for myself, but for you. You’ve already helped, more than you know.”
“Fuck…Nila…” My chest seized as her sadness crested over me. “What can I do to make this right?”
She smiled weakly. “You’ve already done it. I’m piecing myself back together. I’m better now. I’ve remembered who I am.” Her fingers tightened. “Just…please, don’t ask me to take off the hood.”
I couldn’t stand it. My temper thickened. “Take it off. I have to know.”
She shook her head.
“Don’t make me tear it off you. You have to show me. We’re in this together, remember? That means sharing our pain and telling the truth.”
Her shoulders hunched. She hesitated for too long. Finally, her head bowed. “Please…please don’t find me ugly.”
“What?” My air exploded. “Why would you ever ask such a thing?”
Sucking in a shaky breath, she let go of the hood.
My condition soaked up her thoughts—despair, pain, confliction, anger. But most of all, paralyzing hopelessness. My soul pulverised as I slowly slipped off the shadowy material and saw what she’d tried to hide.
I couldn’t speak.
I couldn’t think.
All I could do was stare and fill with such fury, such motherfucking hate, that tears sprang to my eyes.
She couldn’t look at me, her shoulders hunched dejectedly. “I—I—” She gave up, hiding her face in her hands and letting go of her sadness.
Her stunning hair had been replaced with multiple different lengths and shapes. The bedraggled strands cascaded over her hands.
They would pay. They will fucking pay for this.