Page 46 of Ramshackle
Defeated, I do my business and pretend that he’s not in the room with me. I can’t imagine him bringing this up to anyone else or even me in the future, so I decide to get over it and move on.
As I’m wrapping up, he keeps his back to me and turns on the shower. The mirror shows what a mess I am, although I’m better than I thought I’d be after the last time I’d been awake. Any blood I’d had on me is gone. But my hair is greasy and flat on my head, telling me how long it’s been since I’ve properly washed.
Jackson’s checking the temperature of the shower with his hand when I turn around. “Thanks,” I murmur softly. My body is ready to crash again, but I know I’ll feel a lot better if I’m clean first.
He reaches over his head and strips his hoodie free, undressing down to boxers. My mouth goes dry as I watch him take his time before me. As I re-catalogue all his black and gray tattoos that mark his chest and arms. The paper crane over his chest that calls to me to run my fingers across it.
He steps closer and reaches for me. I jerk back.
Something dark flickers in his gaze, and I’m afraid I’ve upset him, but he holds his hand out to me instead. “It’s me.” He keeps his hand outstretched, palm up between us.
I stare at it.
I’m not afraid of him or what he might do.
I’m ashamed of myself. Of the things I’ve done again. I nearly lost myself and all of them. He would be so disappointed if he found out.
And I broke our promise to each other.
He should be furious with me. I would be if he’d done the same.
“Raegan.”
His voice snaps the present back in focus where I’m still looking at his hand as if I’m waiting for him to take it back at any moment. It doesn’t move, though.
It’s me.
Jackson.
My hand slowly slides over his. His fingers curl around it, and then he gently tugs me closer to him. He lifts my chin to capture my gaze in his, holding me there as I feel his hands trailing from my thighs up my hips, up my sides. Until my body moves at his silent direction so he can peel the shirt over my head and arms.
Our eye contact is broken for a second, but he’s right there again to keep me focused before I can blink. He takes his time to remove my underwear next until I’m completely naked in front of him.
He guides me into the shower, and I follow him like I’m under his spell. I’m as safe as I’ve ever been when his eyes are on me. I’m brought into the spray while he stands behind it, not avoiding getting himself wet in his boxers but keeping it primarily on me.
Jack lathers up the soap in his hands and starts spreading it over my skin in smooth, deliberate circles. His touch is soft, working it in like a gentle massage. My muscles sing beneath his touch, aching for more, but my mind isn’t ready for more than this yet.
When he gets to my hair, turning my back to him and practically leaning against him, my eyes close of their own accord the moment his fingers sink into my scalp.
I’m grateful for the quiet.
He doesn’t ask me any questions or even try to talk about stupid things. I don’t want to talk. I want time. I want quiet.
He’s giving me all of that and taking care of my body so I can focus on my mind, and it’s better than anything I could have hoped for. I’m not ready to see the others yet. I would haverefused him if he hadn’t already been in the room. But now I’m glad he was there and that I’m getting this time to myself, even if I’m not really alone.
It’s that thought that breaks the first tear free.
I’m not alone.
I couldn’t do it by myself, but I’m not alone anymore. They came for me.
I shudder as the feelings I’d locked away for so long release, and then the tears fall in steady, silent tracks down my face. Jackson can’t see, being behind me and focusing on my hair, so I don’t bother trying to restrain them. I’ve done that for so long that it’s like a purge of emotion that’s welling up inside of me and then bursting free until my body shakes and quivers uncontrollably.
Arms wrap around me from behind, holding me tight as my body convulses through the pain, and my knees buckle. His strength controls our descent to the tile floor as he keeps me with him.
He holds me like that until the tears run dry, even though my body still shakes and wishes for more.
He holds me until I struggle awkwardly to stand, helping me back to my feet, and then continues to do it until I can draw a normal breath.
