Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“It happened fast.” I swallow hard and let him wipe my face again. My shoulder hurts so fucking bad, and as if he can sense what I need, he helps me get the ruined T-shirt off. “I was in the barn looking at the injured horse, and suddenly, I heard the whip outside. When I looked out at the paddock, the trainer was cracking it, and it looked like he was going to hit the horse, and I just reacted.”
Tucker goes very still, and his eyes go hot, and when I would look away, he takes my chin and forces my gaze up to his own.
“You put yourself between a man with a whip and a horse?”
“I didn’t want the horse to get hit because I know what that feels like, and—”
“Jesus fuck,” he mutters, shaking his head. “Darby—”
“I could hear his voice.”
He frowns and shakes his head again. “Who’s voice?”
“My father’s. How gleeful he was when he’d make me bleed, and the horrible things he said, and the way it felt. And I just reacted. I’m sorry I’m broken. I’m sorry that I can’t be normal and carefree and you don’t deserve this. You shouldn’t have to deal with a woman this fucking damaged, so I’m just going to go—”
He growls and frames my face in his hands, staring into my eyes, and I swear his are glassy, as if my words are tearing him apart like the whip did to my flesh.
“You’ll never say that again, do you hear me, Darby? You’re not broken. You’re nothing but fucking amazing and everything in this world that I need, so you won’t ever talk that way about the woman I love. We’re going to have a conversation about the fact that you put yourself between a whip and a fucking horse, but for now, we’re going to clean you up, and I’m going to remind you how much I love you until you believe me.”
I swallow hard and then have to do it again because I can’t speak through the knot in my throat. No one has ever fought for me like this.
No one has ever.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
TUCKER
I’m so fucking furious.
Someone hurt my girl. Her flesh is torn right through old scars, and the blood is running down her back, but I had to get her calmed down before I could even think about cleaning her up.
But more than that, she’s back in that place where she thinks she doesn’t deserve all the wonderful things in her life, where the fucking maniac who was supposed to protect her destroyed her spirit and her skin, and I want to rage.
Instead, I keep her face in my hands and kiss her forehead, resisting the need to crush her to me and hold on tight.
“Do we understand each other?” I feel my heart break a little more when her chin wobbles as she nods solemnly. “Good. Now, I’m going to clean this blood up. You should have stitches, sweetheart.”
“Strips will hold it,” she whispers as she pulls a towel from the bar and holds it against her front. “We’ll need antiseptic, or it could get infected, and there’s not much worse than an infected whip wound. Trust me.”
I swallow thickly, my stomach in knots as I take in the ripped skin. Jesus Christ, how did she handle this by herself when she was just a child?
“Darby, I’m begging you to let me call Blake. Please, baby. He’ll come to us, and you trust him.”
“I’ve managed on my own my whole life, Tucker. We can do this. I understand if you don’t want to watch, and I can do it myself, if you’ll just leave me with—”
“I’m not fucking leaving you,” I growl. “Not today or any day, but I think you need medical attention.”
I lean my forehead against her uninjured shoulder and let out a ragged sigh. It’s not that the wound makes me jittery, it’s that I don’t have the skills to properly take care of this. She’s a woman, my woman, not an animal on my ranch to be tended to.
“I really need to make more salve now,” she whispers. “Because I’ll have fresh scars, and I need to work them early, so they don’t get too bad.”
I press my lips together as I methodically wipe the blood from her skin, over all of the ridges from the destruction that was done before, and my heart twists in my chest.
“I love all of your pretty little scars.” I reach over and brush her hair off her face and run my thumb over her bottom lip. “Every single one.”
“I love you too.” The words are whispered, but I hear them plain as day and hold her blue eyes with my own. “So much that it terrifies me.”
I kiss her shoulder, above her injury, on the side of her neck and then over to her lips before leaning my forehead against hers as emotion swells in me. She shows me every damn day that she cares, but hearing the words spoken so sweetly from this amazing human is . . . everything.