I cocked my brows at her. “Will you answer my question?”

She raised her eyes to meet mine. “I can’t right now.”

“You can’t or won’t?”

“I just can’t,” she whispered.

“Fine.” I swallowed the lump in my throat and took a deep breath. Although I couldn’t imagine her not in my world, I had to admit that it made sense she might not want to be in it. Without another word, I rubbed my hands together to make a lather. “Turn around,” I instructed.

Slowly, she pivoted to where her back faced me. As gently as I could, I reached my hands out to touch the broken and puckered skin where that bastard must have hit her with his belt. I knew the look of the marks all too well from when my old man used to beat me when I was a kid. She jumped the moment I touched her. I don’t know if it was from the pain or from how intimately my hands were on her. Glancing over her shoulder at me, she threw me a shy glance. “That okay?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

I washed down her arms and her lower back. When I got to her buttocks, I drew in a breath. Although sex should have been the farthest thing from my mind, I couldn’t help admiring the swell of her ass, the way the globes felt when I rubbed over them. Silently, I willed myself to think of anything but sex. Instead, I focused on how I was going to pick her attacker to pieces just as soon as I could get a moment alone with him.

When I finished the backs of her legs, I stood up. “Turn,” I commanded again. She obediently followed my instructions. As if on autopilot, her arms came up to cross over her breasts, modestly covering them from me. “Babe, I had my mouth on those earlier tonight, if you remember correctly.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she ducked her head. I groaned and ran a soapy hand through my hair. “Shit, I’m sorry. That was a bastard move to remind you of earlier, considering what all you’ve been through.”

“It’s okay,” she whispered.

“No, it’s not. It’s exactly why I wanted Mama Beth or Kim in here with you. I’m fucking this up and hurting you.”

Her gaze jerked to mine. “How many times do I have to say that it’s only you I want? I need you, Deacon. I really do.”

Cocking my brows at her, I countered, “Yeah, and not five minutes ago you were acting like you were gonna bail on me and this outlaw life just as fast as you could.”

Her dark eyes flashed with anger. “Can you just for a moment try to put yourself in my shoes? I didn’t grow up in this world. I’m not used to bad blood and turf wars. Then I got the shit beaten out of me tonight and almost raped. I’m sorry if it’s past your comprehension that I might need a minute or two to catch my breath.”

My head jerked back like she had slapped me. “Jesus.”

Taking the shampoo bottle, she slammed it against my chest. “Wash your hair.”

I bit my tongue before saying, No one fucking bosses me around. Instead, I cut her a break and squirted the shampoo in my hands. As I lathered up my hair, Alexandra took the body wash and poured some in her hand. With a harsher touch than I had used, she began to wash my arms and chest. My hands stilled in my hair as I watched her work.

In that moment, I knew I didn’t want her to leave. It wasn’t just about feeling some bullshit need to protect her after what had happened. It was deeper than that. Little by little, she had chiseled away at my resolve not to ever care about another woman. While she was so fucking wrong for me, she was also so fucking right.

Her face was mere inches from mine when I whispered, “Don’t leave.”

Tilting her head, she gazed up at me. “Why?” she questioned in almost a whisper.

“Because I don’t want you to.”

“Why?” she repeated.

Gritting my teeth, I glared down at her. “Because I fucking don’t want to see your aggravating ass go.”

She blinked before turning back to the spray to rinse her hands of the soap. When she started to reach for the curtain, I grabbed her hand. “Because I care about you. A lot.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, I fucking do.”

“I care about you, too.” Alex’s hand came up to cup my cheek. “And because of how I feel about you, I really don’t want to go anywhere.”

My brows shot up in surprise. “Even after everything that’s happened?”

“If I truly searched myself, the answer would still be yes.”

With a teasing grin, I asked, “You want a little of the outlaw life, White-Bread?”

“No. I just want more of you. Regardless of the risks or the obstacles, I want you.”

The seriousness of both her words and her expression wiped the grin off my face. We were at a hell of a crossroads right now. Really it was more like standing on the edge of a cliff. “You deserve better than me,” I argued softly.

“I know,” she replied, the corners of her lips fluttering as if she was trying not to smile. “As long as you try hard to make yourself worthy of me, I think we’ll be fine.”

I couldn’t help the corners of my lips turning up at her statement. It didn’t stop me from countering, “I ain’t never had to work for a woman.”

“Maybe you never had one worth working for.”

I gazed into her dark eyes—ones that were now battle worn from what she’d been through tonight—and I realized how right she was. I’d never been with a woman who was book smart and educated. I’d never had a woman who cared enough about one of my brothers that she would sacrifice more of her time to help him pass the GED. I hadn’t seen one of my conquests ever talk sweet or be considerate to my mother. Nor had any of them been as kind and compassionate to my daughter.

“Maybe you’re right.”

Her eyes flared at my response. We kept staring at each other until I finally cleared my throat. “Come on. We need to get you out of here.”

Alex gave a quick nod of her head before I stepped out of the shower. Offering her my hand, I helped her out. I grabbed a towel and handed it to her while I went about toweling myself off. Her breath came in tiny gasps and hisses as she tried patting dry her broken skin.

After wrapping the towel around my waist, I headed out into the bedroom. Just like I had asked, Mama Beth had laid some pajamas out for Alex on the bed. I grabbed them and then went back inside the bathroom. Alex held out a tube of Neosporin. “Can you do the ones on my back?”

“Yeah, sure,” I murmured, handing her the pajamas. As gently as I could, I dabbed the cream over her broken skin. I knew we would need to repeat this several times a day so she wouldn’t scar. She had much too beautiful skin for it to be flawed. It would also mean a physical reminder of what she had been through.