the instant his fingers dig into the bruises still healing all across my back. The box falls to the floor of the porch with a thud.
Jared plucks me up as if I'm a ragdoll and sets me on my feet. As soon as they touch the floorboards beneath me, he releases me, snatching his hands back like if I've burned him.
"I'm sorry," he says.
Closing my eyes, I shake my head, waiting for the fog of pain to recede slightly so I can speak. It takes a moment for the intense throb to ease off into a dull ache.
Jared's staring at me when I finally manage to look at him, his beautiful eyes clouded with concern.
"What's wrong?"
The question isn't a demand this time, and I can't find the will to brush him off again. I'm so tired of trying to sort everything out by myself, so tired of keeping my wounds and scars hidden from everyone. Of trying to deal with this alone and making no progress.
"I had surgery a few weeks ago," I whisper and shuffle a few steps away from him. Turning my back to him, I lift the hem of my shirt so he can see and hold my breath. The bruises have faded, but the ugly green color is awful. So are the jagged, red scars.
A shocked hiss echoes across the porch.
My cheeks flame when his big hands brush across my bare skin.
I pull my shirt down and move away quickly, my heart pounding.
"I fell," I mumble, desperate to focus on anything other than the heat of his hands on my body.
"You fell." It's not a question and he doesn't sound happy.
"In glass. It went through my back and pierced my kidney." I stop talking, unsure why I've said so much.
He's quiet, and I can't force myself to turn around and face him again. I'm not sure what I'll find if I do.
I want to slip through the front door and pretend that I've said nothing.
I want him to say… something.
"There's a phone in the box for you," he says as if on cue.
I immediately regret wanting him to speak. His voice is low, angry. I hear his heavy steps retreating. Once again, I have to fight the urge to apologize.
He stops walking.
"Your boyfriend should be in jail for what he did to you, Savannah. You didn't deserve it."
I gasp and spin around, only to find him stalking across the yard with his shoulders hunched. His long stride is furious, his muscles tense. His hands are clenched into fists.
Oh, God.
He knows about Toby.
I've never been more humiliated in my life.
By the time I work up the nerve to go to the main house to check on the girls, it's dark. I creep along the trail connecting the guesthouse to the mansion slowly, dreading walking through the door and coming face to face with Jared again.
He knows about Toby. He knows I stayed.
I'm so angry with myself suddenly, I just want to scream.
The instant I step through the front doors, I hear his voice coming from the kitchen.
It's raised, angry.
"You should have told me about this!"
"It's not your business, Jared," Lexis snaps right back at him. "Do you really think she wanted everyone to know what happened to her?"
I know immediately that they're talking about me. I inch back toward the door, mortified all over again.
"Have you seen what he did to her?" Jared demands. "Good God, Lexi, he could have killed her." He sounds horrified, and so angry.
"It's not your business," Lexi says again.
"The hell it isn't," he snarls. "You call her family, but you just left her there and let it happen! Someone needs to give a damn what happens to her, and it's obvious you don't."
Lexi's shocked gasp mirrors my own.
No. Oh, no.
I stumble on wooden legs toward the sound of their voices. I'm numb, horrified that they're fighting because of me. I have to stop it.
My stomach roils in rebellion, but I keep going.
They both turn to look at me when I step into the kitchen.
Tears run down Lexi's face. Jared's jaw is clenched tight.
I cringe away from the sheer fury on his face, but I don't run. I can't this time.
"It's not her fault," I say, barely managing to avoid choking on the words. "I
Jared plucks me up as if I'm a ragdoll and sets me on my feet. As soon as they touch the floorboards beneath me, he releases me, snatching his hands back like if I've burned him.
"I'm sorry," he says.
Closing my eyes, I shake my head, waiting for the fog of pain to recede slightly so I can speak. It takes a moment for the intense throb to ease off into a dull ache.
Jared's staring at me when I finally manage to look at him, his beautiful eyes clouded with concern.
"What's wrong?"
The question isn't a demand this time, and I can't find the will to brush him off again. I'm so tired of trying to sort everything out by myself, so tired of keeping my wounds and scars hidden from everyone. Of trying to deal with this alone and making no progress.
"I had surgery a few weeks ago," I whisper and shuffle a few steps away from him. Turning my back to him, I lift the hem of my shirt so he can see and hold my breath. The bruises have faded, but the ugly green color is awful. So are the jagged, red scars.
A shocked hiss echoes across the porch.
My cheeks flame when his big hands brush across my bare skin.
I pull my shirt down and move away quickly, my heart pounding.
"I fell," I mumble, desperate to focus on anything other than the heat of his hands on my body.
"You fell." It's not a question and he doesn't sound happy.
"In glass. It went through my back and pierced my kidney." I stop talking, unsure why I've said so much.
He's quiet, and I can't force myself to turn around and face him again. I'm not sure what I'll find if I do.
I want to slip through the front door and pretend that I've said nothing.
I want him to say… something.
"There's a phone in the box for you," he says as if on cue.
I immediately regret wanting him to speak. His voice is low, angry. I hear his heavy steps retreating. Once again, I have to fight the urge to apologize.
He stops walking.
"Your boyfriend should be in jail for what he did to you, Savannah. You didn't deserve it."
I gasp and spin around, only to find him stalking across the yard with his shoulders hunched. His long stride is furious, his muscles tense. His hands are clenched into fists.
Oh, God.
He knows about Toby.
I've never been more humiliated in my life.
By the time I work up the nerve to go to the main house to check on the girls, it's dark. I creep along the trail connecting the guesthouse to the mansion slowly, dreading walking through the door and coming face to face with Jared again.
He knows about Toby. He knows I stayed.
I'm so angry with myself suddenly, I just want to scream.
The instant I step through the front doors, I hear his voice coming from the kitchen.
It's raised, angry.
"You should have told me about this!"
"It's not your business, Jared," Lexis snaps right back at him. "Do you really think she wanted everyone to know what happened to her?"
I know immediately that they're talking about me. I inch back toward the door, mortified all over again.
"Have you seen what he did to her?" Jared demands. "Good God, Lexi, he could have killed her." He sounds horrified, and so angry.
"It's not your business," Lexi says again.
"The hell it isn't," he snarls. "You call her family, but you just left her there and let it happen! Someone needs to give a damn what happens to her, and it's obvious you don't."
Lexi's shocked gasp mirrors my own.
No. Oh, no.
I stumble on wooden legs toward the sound of their voices. I'm numb, horrified that they're fighting because of me. I have to stop it.
My stomach roils in rebellion, but I keep going.
They both turn to look at me when I step into the kitchen.
Tears run down Lexi's face. Jared's jaw is clenched tight.
I cringe away from the sheer fury on his face, but I don't run. I can't this time.
"It's not her fault," I say, barely managing to avoid choking on the words. "I
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