Page 19 of Truthfinder’s Promise

She crouched, slipped her hands under his stomach, and lifted. She didn’t even get all four paws off the ground. She dropped him and stared. “How much weight have you gained?” Thirty pounds, at least. Maybe more. She did a conversion calculation given the admittedly large amount of food he’d taken in today, and it still didn’t make any sense.

“Okay, well, I can’t carry you anymore. I get that you’re sticking to your I’m-a-dog story, but the fact that this morning I could carry you up a flight of stairs and now I can’t even pick you up kind of puts the lie to that. You’re obviously intelligent. Don’t make me go stand in the bathroom door and call Here, boy, just so you can maintain an illusion I’m not buying.”

She stalked to the bathroom. After a moment of hesitation, Monster followed. He hopped onto the stone-tiled deck that surrounded the tub and carefully stepped down into the water. He sat down, his face frozen in what was either fear or a grimace, or both.

“I’ll be as quick and careful as I can.” She settled onto the deck, grabbed the cup she’d brought and dunked it into the water. She poured the water over his back, then repeated the process until she’d gotten all of his fur wet.

He sat frozen through all of it, shivering a little. Meredith squirted a large glob of shampoo onto her palm and decided this would be easiest if, for the duration of the bath, she just pretended he was a dog, instead of wondering what exactly she was running her hands all over.

Firmly acquiescing to the magical lie of dog, she lathered the shampoo in her hands and set to work.

Jensen tensed as Meredith worked the first squeeze of shampoo into his fur. He knew she wouldn’t be going to this much trouble for him if she intended him harm, but every physical touch he’d experienced during his captivity had been harsh, clinical, or abusive.

And though she was none of those things, though she was kind and careful, he couldn’t stop flinching every time she touched him. He hated that. Hated that though he knew a blow wasn’t coming, he couldn’t stop the reflexive flinch at each stroke of her hands. He endured it as she carefully lathered shampoo through his fur, as the water around him turned a muddy brown and then nearly black.

By the time she drained the water and started rinsing the soap off of him he was so on-edge his entire body was shivering, and he still didn’t feel clean.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, putting the stopper back in and letting the tub fill again, “but you need another round.”

It was those two words—I’m sorry—spoken and obviously meant, that clicked through to his brain and made him stop shaking. This time, when she started working shampoo into his fur, he didn’t flinch. This time, he felt. Felt the near-ecstasy brought on by the feel of the suds working through his fur, onto his skin.

Being dirty—filthy—with no way to maintain basic hygiene, had a dehumanizing effect on a person. He hadn’t realized just how much it had done so to him until he felt his humanity coming back to him with each gentle stroke of her fingers. She massaged his muscles as she worked, as if she knew just how stiff he was. As if, even though she didn’t know what he was, didn’t know who he was, she thought he deserved to be treated with care.

That was what broke him. The man—Elijah—had known exactly what Jensen was—a man capable of taking the form of a wolf—and he’d treated him like nothing. Meredith thought he could be some unknown tentacled creature that might or might not be sapient, and she still treated him with compassion.

Because of that, he gave in to what he’d wanted ever since he saw her again. He placed his front paws on the lip of the tub and buried his face in her side. He’d been alone too long. He needed comfort and familiarity, and she was here.

Meredith froze. He thought she would scramble away from him, and he wouldn’t blame her. But then, seemingly perched on the edge of fight or flight, she did the unexpected. She slid into the tub, uncaring of her clothes, and held him to her, one hand gently stroking over his fur.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I don’t know exactly what you’ve been through. But I know a thing or two about torture and pain, and I’d guess you’ve experienced both. I’d tell you it gets easier, that you get better, but…” She shrugged. “The more I try to get better, the worse I seem to get. All I know is we have to keep going, you know? Because otherwise, what the fuck was it all for?”

Meredith’s heart wanted to break, which was a surprise, because she hadn’t realized she still had one. She held Monster until his shaking from fear turned into a shiver because the water had gone cold.

“Come on,” she said between chattering teeth, “or we’re both going to get sick.”

They got out and she toweled Monster off before shucking out of her wet clothes. He turned around, as if giving her privacy. Interesting.

She discovered Monster was amenable to being blow-dried, because after she found clothes and started drying her own hair, he padded into the bathroom and yipped at the blowdryer. Ten minutes later she had a not-dog with a blowout.

She was also exhausted, her eyelids heavy enough she thought she might actually manage some sleep if she got in bed that instant. As she drew the sheets back and climbed in, Monster sat beside the bed, a low whine in his throat. She hesitated, but screw it. She didn’t want to be alone tonight either.

“Come on, then.”

He hopped up, and when she shifted onto her side he settled in against her back. The steady rise and fall of his breathing against her was more comforting than it ought to have been, like a soporific dragging her under.

Maybe she just needed another person around to actually fall asleep. She’d slept well the few times she’d stayed the full night in Jensen’s hotel room. With him, it had almost been like she was a normal person.

Her last thought as she drifted off was that she really had to stop thinking about Jensen King.