“You want to see the dirty details.”

“It’s not like that!”

I jerked my shirt up, my head shooting back, and I ground my teeth together. “How about when he hit me so hard, I couldn’t see out of my eye for a week when I asked him for money for a field trip? Or when he broke my arm when I was in the sixth grade? Or how about the time he broke one of my ribs in tenth grade?”

Her hands shot to her mouth, her eyes horror-movie wide.

The mottled bruise had spread. My side ached and throbbed. It was hot, and her gaze on it made it unbearable.

“Now you see it. Now you know. I can go for more if you like.” My hands flexed at my sides and all I wanted to do was escape.

Tears glistened in her eyes.

They hurt. Her tears and her horror. It hurt knowing she’d always see this when she saw me. I dropped my shirt.

“Are you happy now?” The words were nail-gun sharp.

She shook her head fiercely. “No! Of course I’m not. I don’t know how to make this better.”

“You can’t. I’ll be fine in a few days. Maybe a week.”

She lifted her trembling hand to my cheek, searching my face. “I don’t mean the bruises.” Her throat worked up and down. She ran her palm over my chest. “I mean what he’s done to make you think this is something that goes away when the bruises fade.”

My heart skipped into overdrive.

I backed away and dropped my gaze, keeping it trained on the floor. “How many times do I have to tell you I’m fine?”

“You can say it as many times as you want, but that doesn’t make it true.” There was a pleading tone in her voice that shook me deep down.

Letting my guard down was something I’d never been good at. Surrounded by football players, no one would ever even think to bring up shit like this. My armor was always up, except around her. I didn’t have to pretend, but I also didn’t have the luxury of living a life where my armor hadn’t been forged in the fires of rage and blood. Dropping it around her had opened me up to this, a lance in my side just as I’d dropped the metal to the ground and opened my arms to her. I couldn’t do this, not with her. I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to go to that dark place I’d never wanted to touch my time with her.

My back hit her dresser. “Stop pushing. Would you just stop?”

“Dare.” She held her hand out in front of her. Tears swam in her eyes. Without warning she shot forward and wrapped her arms around me, careful of my side. Her arms surrounded me in a bear hug.

My arms were trapped at my sides. My nostrils flared and I shook, trying to hold myself together. I wanted to shove her away. I wanted to get back in my car and drive until I ran out of gas. A noise ripped from my throat, but she kept hanging on. Holding onto me and not letting me go.