Total pages in book: 176
Estimated words: 164533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
“Is it painful here?” I asked, ignoring his comment about talking to my uncle as my hand went lightly to his ribcage.
His gaze clouded as he shifted away slightly. “Just more bruising.”
“Are you sure?” My hands went to the towel covering him. “Let me s—”
Rhys’ hands stopped mine, a hint of teasing in his expression, but it was hollow. A weak attempt to cover his discomfort. “You’ll use any excuse to get me naked.”
“Right,” I said, laughing softly and going along with the joke even though I felt no humour in any of this. My concern lingered. “You’ve figured out my secret plan.”
His eyes locked on mine, briefly running over my nose and cheeks before lowering to my mouth then sliding away. I wondered if he was thinking about last night, about kissing me behind that couch or pushing me up against the wall and kissing me more. Every part of me had hungered for him, a desire swirling inside I couldn’t tamp down. Heat flushed my skin, and I felt breathless at the memory.
“So,” I said, clearing my throat. “What did you want to speak with my uncle about?”
Just like that, the tendril of heat in his eyes fell flat. Rhys shifted away, lifting his hand to rub the back of his neck and then wincing because the movement clearly hurt something in his torso.
“I think you should go to the hospital, just in case,” I said, worried.
“No, I don’t need to. I’m …” he trailed off. “I’m used to this, Charli. I know what it feels like when I need to see a doctor and what it feels like when things will heal on their own.”
His statement made me feel like crying again because what he’d gone through in his life—suffering in secret and with no one to turn to—was impossible to stomach.
“I need to speak to your uncle to ask him for the CCTV footage. I’ll feel better with the physical evidence in my hands,” he finally explained.
I knew it was the smart thing to do, but I also personally never wanted to see that footage. I couldn’t stand the thought of anyone hurting Rhys, let alone witness it happen.
Nodding soberly, I went to grab the change of clothes I’d brought down for him. Rhys changed into the jeans and T-shirt, and though I’d turned around to allow him some privacy, I found myself taking a glance. Not because I wanted to see him shirtless. I looked because I wanted to make sure he was telling the truth about not needing a doctor.
My gasp was impossible to contain when I saw the mottled bruises that coloured his stomach. My blood pulsed in my ears, my breathing quickening, hands clenching as I stared at him. I wanted to do … something. Give Rhys’ dad a taste of his own medicine. I felt like snatching the footage myself and reporting him. It wasn’t moral to let him away with hurting his own son so badly. Tears welled behind my eyes as I suddenly realised Rhys didn’t avoid taking his shirt off in the pool and at the beach because he was self-conscious about his weight. Or, at least, if he did, it wasn’t the whole reason.
No, he kept his shirt on to cover his scars.
“Charli,” Rhys said, trying to get my attention, but I was too stunned to look up. My attention was on his torso. Wetness filled my eyes once more. I’d lived a pretty sheltered life, and although I’d experienced loss when my dad had passed away, violence had never touched me. This was shocking in a way I wasn’t equipped to handle, and not just because of the hurt Rhys’ dad inflicted on him. I hadn’t noticed it when he took his T-shirt off after the pool last night, probably because I’d been distracted by wishing he’d kiss me. Rhys’ body was marked with old scars, injuries inflicted over a lifetime. My legs felt shaky as I stood and approached him. I heard his intake of breath when I lightly touched my fingers to a silvery scar near his collarbone. Next, I touched another a few inches lower. There were more, but Rhys caught my hand, and I looked up, my breath catching at the depth of emotion in his gaze.
“No one’s ever seen …” he trailed off, eyes flickering back and forth between mine. “Ah, fuck, Charli. Don’t cry,” he whispered.
I couldn’t help it. I was officially bawling. Rhys let go of my hand to cup my face, his thumb brushing away some of the wetness. I didn’t know what to say. What did you say to someone who’s baring a part of themselves to you they haven’t bared to anyone before? The weight of it was too much, but I wanted him to know I was there for him, for whatever he needed.