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“I can walk myself,” I mutter. “Did you learn recently? You’re not good at it.”
Even though I keep buying more bookshelves, I can never keep up with my book-buying habit. It’s probably a diagnosable addiction at this point.
“How do you know how to get blood out of clothes?” “I do this really odd thing, where I bleed out of my vagina for a week every month? I don’t know why, it’s weird. Now sit.”
“I’M NOT LOSING BOTH OF YOU!” Cole roars, getting right in his face. “YOU’VE ALREADY TAKEN HER AWAY FROM ME, YOU’RE NOT FUCKING DYING AS WELL!”
Well. My hips. It’s only up to Cole’s thighs. He sees me struggling, and his mouth quirks. “Why are you so small?” “I shrank in the wash.” “Come on.” He makes to pick me up, and I stumble back. “No! Your shoulder!” “It’s fine. I don’t want you getting too cold.” “I can make it,” I insist. He reaches for me again, and I glare at him. “Pick me up, and I’ll kick you in the dick so hard your balls fall out of your mouth.”
He gives me a little shake. “I thought you were dead, woman. I need to fuckin’ hold you.”
“You always do the thing that keeps you safe,” he says gruffly. “Always. No exceptions. We will deal with the consequences after. You never jeopardise your safety just to make someone else happy.”
