Week 57 – Do you need help?

Those dark eyes, blacker than black. Alayna couldn’t resist staring into them. She shouldn’t, she knew that, he was dangerous, and he wouldn’t hesitate to hurt her if she made him angry.

And yet . . . he was Mekhi.

She should be afraid of him, and part of her was, but the other part loved him in spite of who he was.

“Do you need help?”

His words ripped her from her thoughts and she quickly shook her head. She may still love him but he had kidnapped her and locked her in a box, and she wasn’t quite ready to forgive him yet.

Stubbornly, she struggled off the bed and to her feet. Her wrists and ankles still burned with pain, it would take weeks for them to heal, and even then there would be scars. How many more scars would Mekhi put on her body? How far would he go next time? Would he end up killing her?

A gentle hand grasped her elbow. “I apologised for putting you in the box, stop sulking about it.”

She rolled her eyes. How generous of Mekhi to give her a whole couple of hours to get over him torturing her.

“I know what I’m doing, Alayna. You might not understand it, but everything I do I do because of you. To keep you safe.” He reached out and swept a lock of hair off her cheek, tucking it tenderly behind her ear.

The constant dichotomy of Mekhi’s two sides was confusing. One second he treated her like she was made of porcelain, the next he was cruel and vicious. He was going to make her lose her mind with this constant back and forth.

He led her into the bathroom and turned on the shower. She still wasn’t wearing any clothes, but he threw off his pants, then guided them both into the shower. The hot water pounding down on her still sore muscles was heaven, and lulled her into a sort of trance. She didn’t object when he lathered up his hands and began to wash her body.

Mekhi worked those magic hands over every inch of her, working out every kink and knot left behind by those hours in the box. When he reached her neck he paused, his hands wrapped around it but he didn’t squeeze, instead he pierced her with his black gaze.

“Trust me, Alayna.”

Vulnerability bloomed in his face, and it was so unlike her strong, arrogant man that she quickly wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed herself against him.

Taking what would probably be the biggest leap of faith of her life, she whispered, “I trust you.” She meant it. She just hoped her trust didn’t end up getting her killed.

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