Page 47 of Beautiful Ruins
“Sorry,” Tone murmured.
“It’s fine,” Izzy choked out, voice rough.
Tone gave her a look that saiddon’t lie to me, then reached for gauze and pressed it carefully to the laceration.“It’s not deep,” she told her.“But you’re going to have a headache.And this is going to bruise.”
Izzy swallowed.“I’ll manage.”
I felt my hands curl into fists at my sides.
I wasn’t angry in theory.I wasn’t simmering in abstract outrage.I was staring at physical proof that someone had put their hands on her, and the rage that came up in me was old, familiar, and utterly unmanageable.The kind of rage that didn’t want justice.It demanded payment in blood.
I kept my face still.I’d mastered that.But inside, I was already deciding what to break first.
Tone glanced toward me without turning her head.She could feel it.Like she always did.“Don’t,” she warned softly, like she was speaking to a dog that was about to slip its leash.
Izzy’s gaze flicked up at that, quick and wary.
I moved closer, because the distance between us suddenly felt immense.
“Who were they?”I inquired, voice low.
Izzy’s mouth tightened.“I didn’t recognize them.”
“Did they say anything?”
She hesitated.The pause wasn’t evasive.It was memory—dragging itself back up, ugly and sharp.
“They wanted to know where Nathan was.”Her fingers tightened around the blanket bunched in her lap.“Apparently, he stole something of theirs.”
Drugs.
The room didn’t change, but I did.Something in me went colder.Cleaner.
Tone finished cleaning Izzy’s lip, then sat back on her heels, studying her face.“You need to sleep.I’ll check in on you in a little while.”
Izzy nodded, but she didn’t move.She looked exhausted.Her eyes kept flicking to the door like she expected it to burst open again.
Tone’s expression softened.“I’m going to sit in here for a bit, until you drift off.”
Izzy gave a small nod.
I remained by the door another beat, unable to leave and unable to stay without making it worse.I wanted to touch her.To check the bruises myself.To see exactly where they’d hurt her.
I didn’t.
I didn’t get to take liberties with her body just because someone else had.That line mattered.
I left and closed the door behind me.
The second it clicked shut, the house felt like a cage.
I walked down the hall and into my office, slammed the door, and stood there with my hands braced on the desk, head bowed.
I’d sent her back.
I’d known she was vulnerable, and I’d sent her anyway—because Tone had convinced me, because it had felt like the right thing to do, and I’d told myself it was the smallest mercy I could offer her.
Mercy.
