Page 11 of Rehabilitated

My stomach rumbles, and I chuckle when I see the indecision on Russo’s face.

“I’ll only follow you downstairs,” I warn.

He sighs in resignation. “Fine. I’ll carry you down.”

I bite back a grin as he lifts me into his arms again, cradling me to his chest. Downstairs, he sets me down on a kitchen chair, making sure I’m settled before he opens the refrigerator.

“What are you hungry for?”

I stand to join him. “Um, how about⁠—”

“Nope, you sit,” he orders.

“I can help! I’m fine. Really,” I promise. “Plus, it’s weird being taken care of. I do all the cooking and cleaning for my family.”

Russo tenses at my words. He does that every time I mention my family or past. I know he hates hearing about my mistreatment. I’d hate knowing that Russo was in pain or being hurt too. It’s strange but nice to have someone on my side for once.

“Well, you need to get used to it,” Russo says. “I want to pamper and spoil you. I want to take care of you. Plus, you’re free now. You can do whatever you want.”

“I’m not sure what I want,” I admit.

“We’ll figure it out together. You have time.”

I reach past him. “How about eggs and toast?”

“Is that enough for you?”

“Yeah. Do you need more food?”

“No, it’s fine.”

He grabs a yogurt and closes the fridge. I watch as he makes us breakfast. It’s a bit uncomfortable at first. I keep expecting someone to yell at me to get off my ass, and I force myself to relax and let him handle it.

Russo slides a plate in front of me, piled high with scrambled eggs and toast. “Dig in.”

He sits with his own plate, and we’re silent for a while as we eat.

“We should head into town after this and grab you some things. Clothes and toiletries,” he says around a mouthful of food.

I shrug. “I don’t need much. I can just wash what I’m wearing.”

He pins me with a hard look. “Pampered, baby. Let me take care of you. You need clothes and shampoo.”

“Okay,” I concede. “Thank you.”

Russo tells me about growing up in the Night Grove Falls pack. I smile at his stories about his friends and the other pack members, though I don’t think I’m ready to meet them yet.

“You can use my clothes if you want,” Russo offers as we clean up our dishes.

“Thanks.”

“Help yourself to whatever. I need to make a call before we drive into town.”

“Okay, I’ll leave you to it.”

I go upstairs before Russo can offer to carry me. After a quick shower, I pad into his closet, grabbing a black T-shirt and sweatpants. The shirt looks like a dress on me, hanging almost to my knees. The sweatpants don’t help the look. They bunch around my ankles, so I have to roll the waistband up a few times to make them fit.

By the time I go back downstairs, Russo is waiting for me by the front door. He smiles when he sees me.