“Why are you in here unraveling on your own?” His tongue darted out and caught another drop.

“I don’t know.” I forced the words beyond the lump in my throat. “I need the pain. I need his name gone. I need it all gone.”

Letting go of me, he opened the medicine cabinet. Neither of us spoke as he cleaned up the blood. I stood, my hands clasped behind me, while he applied antibiotic ointment and taped a bandage over the reddening slashes.

“At least you didn’t slash too deep.” He stood back, arms falling to his sides, and I burned under his fierce scrutiny. “You could’ve really hurt yourself. There are other ways to remove his name, Alex. Cosmetic surgery, ink. This isn’t the way.”

“I’m sorry.” I bit my lip, my cheeks flaming. His disappointment stung.

“I won’t let you self-destruct, so you’ve only got one option. You’re gonna let it out right now. All of it.”

I shook my head, eyes downcast.

He gripped my shoulder and pushed me from the bathroom. My heartbeat raced as the shadows reached from the corners of the room, threatening to choke me, but I wasn’t afraid. Not while Rafe was with me, his body warm and steady at my back. The strength in his capable grip grounded me.

He pushed me toward the bed. “Bend over the end.”

I tumbled onto the bed, palms bracing myself, and laid my cheek on the soft comforter.

His determined steps thumped across the floor. He didn’t have to tell me not to move as he rifled through the dresser drawers, his back to me, body cast in silhouette. We both knew I wasn’t going anywhere. He pulled out a belt and moved toward me, the thick strap of leather looped in his fist, ready to unleash punishment.

A drift of cool air blasted my backside as he stepped behind me, out of sight. I drew in a quick breath, preparing for the jolt of pain I knew was coming.

“If you need me to stop, tell me, okay?”

The pressure built in my chest again, and the sting in my eyes became unbearable, so I squeezed them shut. “Make it hurt.”

“Why?” His voice cracked, his anguish and confusion bleeding through that single word. “God, Alex. I’ve got a fucking hard-on from hell right now. The thought of hurting you shouldn’t do this to me. I don’t understand why you need it, why I do.”

“Then don’t question it.”

His rapid breaths filled my ears. “Don’t you ever cut yourself again.” The strap of leather bit into my ass with a harsh crack.

I jerked upright with a cry, my legs quaking from the force of the strike. He shoved me back to the mattress with a firm hand, and another lash landed on my ass, as unforgiving as the first.