Page 76 of Operation: Defiance

“There’s…it’s sticky. My forehead. My…chest. I can’t…”

“I have alcohol wipes in the cabinet.” He rummages under the sink, then straightens. “May I come closer? You’ll see my hands the whole time.”

I nod carefully.

“There were electrodes.” The words almost break me. “I can still feel them.”

“Bastards,” he mutters.

His eyes flick away from me for half a second, and his teeth grind together so loudly, I can hear them. When he meets my gaze again, he’s steady. Present.

“I’ll start with your left temple. Only when you’re ready.”

He steps into my sightline, hands visible, then kneels beside the bench. Water soaks into his clothes.

I nod. “Okay.”

The first swipe burns faintly. Not pain. More…prickling.

I flinch anyway, and Asher goes very still.

“We can stop.”

“No. Please. I can’t…live with this feeling.”

He works slowly. Every movement preceded by words. Every pause offered without comment until my breathing steadies again.

By the time he finishes, my whole body is shaking. The residue is gone. The memory isn’t.

Asher steps back, waiting for me to say we’re done.

My hands shake uselessly on my thighs.

“I can’t wash my hair,” I whisper. “Reaching up…”

“Okay. Same rules. You say stop, I stop.”

Asher

I wait for her to nod before I take a step closer.

Asking me to remove the adhesive from her temples and chest almost broke her.

Yet, she only hesitated for a few seconds before mentioning her hair. I hope that means she’s starting to understand I won’t hurt her.

My socks slosh against the tile. The water’s soaked through everything, plastering my blue button-down to my chest, tugging at my slacks so every step feels like I’m walking through sand.

I don’t care. Whatever she needs, I’ll give her.

“I’m going to adjust the spray first. My left hand will be just above your forehead to keep the water out of your eyes. Okay?”

She manages a tiny nod. It’s obvious my hands anywhere terrify her, but as soon as the warm water hits her scalp, her shoulders lower slightly.

“I’m going to touch your hair in a moment. I’ll be as gentle as I can with the knots.”

“Slowly?”

The single word almost breaks me into pieces. It’s so desperate, so thin. She’s practically begging me for the smallest kindness.