Redemptive (Combative, #2)

Once he was behind the wheel of his car, he asked, “What now?” There was calmness in his voice that shouldn’t exist.

He reversed out of the clearing and drove back to the main road.

Tiny didn’t break the silence.

Neither did I.

It was her.

And it was two words I’d never expected that left me ruined. “Thank you.”





7




Nate


It was three in the morning by the time we made it home. Luckily, my house was a gated cabin in the woods. No neighbors for miles. It also helped that no one had been to the cabin since my dad had died. I liked my privacy. I also liked my safety. It was easier just to keep everyone at a distance, regardless of how lonely it got.

I faced the back seat and looked her up and down. Her hoodie was black and hid most of the blood. Her jeans, however, that was another story. And it dawned on me then; she never told me if she was hurt or not. “Is any of that your blood?” I asked.

She shook her head slowly, but enough for the blindfold to slip down her nose a little. Sighing, I reached over and started to remove it. She flinched beneath my touch. “I’m just taking the blindfold off, alright?”

Her shoulders dropped, and once she’d scooted forward in her seat, I removed the blindfold. She kept her eyes closed a moment, her breath catching as her eyelids slowly fluttered open. Tiny turned to her. “No screaming.”

The girl nodded but kept her gaze lowered.

Tiny helped her out of the car and led her to my house. With each step closer to my door, my pulse quickened. By the time we got there, my head was spinning, and my heart was on the verge of exploding through my chest.

My fingers shook as I lifted my key, trying in vain to unlock it. Tiny—he must have sensed my struggle, because his hand covered mine and he muttered, “I got you, Boss.” I was grateful he was there, that he could somehow see the sense in whatever the fuck it was we were doing.

The girl just stood there, completely silent. When Tiny swung the door open, I placed my hand on the small of her back, guiding her through.

After disarming the security alarm, I walked to the kitchen and switched on the lights. I needed a drink, something to take the edge off.

Tiny grasped the girl by her elbow and followed behind me.

I reached up to the liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of whiskey, and without bothering to get a glass, I took a long, well-earned swig.

The girl’s eyes fixed on mine. She stared at me so intently, for so long, that I had to look away. After taking another swallow, I offered her the bottle. “No, thank you,” she said.

I nodded and was about to replace the cap when I saw her move from the corner of my eye. She was rubbing her wrist, red raw from the tape Tiny had used. She unzipped her sweatshirt, revealing a worn white T-shirt with large holes in a few places. But that’s not what stood out. It was the amount of blood that had seeped through. She attempted to speak, forcing me to look up at her bloodstained face.

“What?” I asked, but it came out harsher than intended. I tried to settle my pulse, tried to calm my breathing, tried to put some perspective into the situation. “What did you want to say?” I asked, my tone calmer.

She shook her head.

I looked up at Tiny, but he was looking down at her. After a moment, he let out a sigh. “What’s your name?” he asked her.

And for some reason, it pissed me off. Maybe because he was the one in control when it had always been me. He, at least, could speak, while all I could do was stare at her.

“B-Bailey.”

Tiny threw out his hand. “I’m Tiny.”

Her hand trembled as she accepted his offered one.

He smiled warmly or, at least, attempted to. “Are you hungry?”

She shook her head.

“Thirsty?”

Another head shake.

“Shower?” he asked her.

Her eyes widened slightly, then she faced me. “Would that be okay?”

I took another drink, my eyes never leaving hers. Then I walked between them, past the living room and down the hallway toward my room. After finding her a change of clothes, I made my way to the guest bathroom and ran the shower, letting the steam fill the room before stepping just outside the door. “All yours,” I told her.

Slowly, she walked over, stopping only inches in front of me. Then, looking me right in the eyes, she ruined me again. “Thank you.”

*

Tiny moved in his seat opposite me at the kitchen table. We’d sat in silence up until the point he said, “This is bad news, Boss.”

I laughed once. I couldn’t help it. “No shit.”

“What are you going to do?”

Shaking my head, I leaned back in my seat. “I have no fuckin’ idea.”

“You should say something to her.”

“Like what?”

He shrugged, his fat gut moving with it. “I don’t know, but it’s not helping you just staring at her the way you are.”

The pipes clanked when her shower ended.

Tiny added, “Just talk to her. Tell her she’s safe.”

I raised an eyebrow. “For now?”

“Better than her not knowing anything at all. She probably thinks you’re going to off her in her sleep.”

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