Chapter 29

TWENTY-NINE

brOOKE

Domhnall immediately whips around, his features unreadable. “It’s nothing.”

I’m still in shock from what I just saw. I climb out of the pool. I need to see it again. Some of those wounds looked fresh. Oh my god, he probably shouldn’t have even been swimming.

“Donny, who did that to you?” I demand, trying to walk around to see the horrific scarring again. I only caught a glimpse, but it was his entire back, fresh angry stripes barely scabbed, laid over old, raised pink scars. I’ve never seen anything so horrific. Tears immediately spring to my eyes .

But when I try to look again, Domhnall just keeps turning, as if determined to keep his broad chest to me.

“Donny,” I demand. “Let me see!”

“It’s fine,” he says, still dancing away from me every time I almost manage to get around him.

“It’s not fine! Some of those are fresh. Who did that to you?” Tears flood down my cheeks but he’s still not letting me see.

“I did it, okay,” he finally snaps, yanking back yet again when I try to get around him. His admission certainly stops me cold in my tracks.

My mouth drops open. I don’t understand. “ Why ?”

He shakes his head, jaw locked so hard it looks like it might break. “I— I don’t—” His head just keeps shaking as he backs away from me.

I rush forward and try to take his hand, but he pulls away.

“Donny. What the fuck?”

“I’m fucked up, okay?” he finally barks out. Then lets out a caustic laugh that sounds more like an explosion of pent-up breath, flinging out a hand towards the house. “If that wasn’t more than apparent. Your da used to whip me back in the day and now I fucking do it to myself.”

He turns away from me and bends over his knees, finally exposing his horrific back to me again, and shouts at the top of his lungs, “Fuuuuuck!”

“Donny,” I whisper, tears still clogging my throat. I reach out a tentative hand towards him. One of the recent whip wounds split open when he bent over. I don’t know how he slept on his back last night. “C’mon. Let’s go inside and I can help bandage these?—”

But he just stands back up in a quick motion, hands on his head and features twisted like he’s hearing some sort of siren that’s too loud. Then he sprints past me and dives in the deep end.

“Donny!” I shout after he disappears under the water. I rush to the edge. He’s there at the bottom of the deep end, just sitting, and not coming back up. Immediately, I dive in after him.

All I want is to grab his arm and drag him to the surface. But whatever frame of mind he’s in, I know it will only get me resistance. So I just swim down until I’m in front of him and do my best to sit on the bottom of the pool with him.

It’s difficult to keep still. My buoyant body wants to float up to the top but if I use my arms, I can hold myself down.

I don’t have to try very hard, though. Domhnall’s eyes were closed when I first swam down, but as soon as he opens them and sees me, they immediately widen. He shoves off the bottom, grabbing me by the waist and taking me back to the pool’s surface with him.

“What were you thinking?” he demands. “You could’ve drowned!”

“Domhn.” I grab his face in both my hands and look in his eyes. “Are you back with me? ”

He blinks, looking confused but then his eyes settle on mine.

“We need to go in the house so I can see to your back,” I say calmly.

He jerks in my touch at the mention of his back.

Immediately I murmur, “It’s okay. I’m here. Domhn.” Using my hands, I help direct his face back to mine so he can focus just on me. “I’m right here.”

His gaze finally settles back on mine, and he nods, huffing out hard.

We float in the deep end like that for several long moments, breathing. Just breathing. He treads water and I hold his precious face. Dear god, how quickly the coin flips.

When he drops his head into the crook of my neck like a tired child, I clutch him there, running my fingers through his wet hair and rubbing his neck, kicking my feet to keep us up. It’s only when we bob a little in the water that he jerks back and says, “Shit. Let’s get out of the pool.”

I nod, already missing his head against my chest. “Let’s go inside.”

He’s subdued as we swim towards the shallow end and walk up the pool steps. There’s a little outdoor shower and we rinse off, him always keeping his chest to me. Then I hurry over towards the towels on the bench and bring them back. He towels off efficiently.

“Careful!” I say when he starts to swing the towel over his back.

He smiles a sad smile. “It’s really okay. I’ve been like this a very long time.”

Nine years. Is his back ever truly able to heal? How often does he do it? How does he put medicine on or bandage himself? I have so many questions, but I can see how questions just shut him down a moment ago. I want to keep him with me.

I wrap my towel around myself to keep from dripping as we walk back in the house. And, needing some kind of connection with him after that revelation, I slip my small hand into his big one. I can feel his surprise and almost pull my hand away. Before I can, though, his strong fingers close around mine. It makes my chest squeeze with emotion. He holds my hand all the way up to his bedroom.

I only let go so I can jog over to his bathroom. I wash my hands thoroughly first, then start rummaging around for first aid supplies. Domhnall stops in the doorway, elbow up casually against the frame as he watches me. I glance over at him and my breath sweeps out of my lungs. Good lord. He looks like a tattooed god, so gorgeous and muscled.

“Stop distracting me with your sexiness,” I mutter, and go back to opening cabinets under the bathroom counter.

“Says the beautiful woman on her knees in just a towel.”

I roll my eyes. Then I tug open the top drawer in an opaque tower in one of the cabinets and find cotton balls and swabs. Okay, now we’re talking. I keep opening drawers and find antibiotic cream, long bandages, gloves, and medical tape. I snatch them all into my arms as I look back up at Domhn.

“Get the butterfly bandages, too.” His voice has gone monotone. “A drawer down. You might need them.”

I find them, exactly where he says, then order him, “Go lay face down on the bed.”

One of his eyebrows hefts as some life comes back into his face. “Are we playing switch? You’re the dom now?”

I glare at him. “For all intents and purposes, yes. Now be a good boy and go do exactly what I say.”

He looks at the jumble of supplies in my hands and sighs. “If you insist.”

“I do.”

Without another word, he turns and goes back into the bedroom. I follow him out. He’s still got the towel covering his back, but when he reaches the bed, he drops his soggy boxers to the carpet—no doubt intentionally distracting me with his taut ass. He only loses the towel at the last moment before flinging himself face-first down on the bed.

I grimace when I see his angry back again, glad he can’t see my reaction. He’s got his face buried between two pillows.

“Can you breathe in there?” I call.

I get a grunt back that I’ll assume means yes. After climbing on the bed beside him, I open the little tube of antibiotic cream and then look down. Immediately I’m swallowing back tears again. Is there even enough in this small tube for his big back and all the damage here ?

I should take him to the hospital. He needs stitches.

But when I tell him so, he only grunts again, turning his head to the side. “Just use the butterfly bandages. They work fine.”

I grit my teeth together and snap on some gloves. “Who usually does this for you?”

His back shifts slightly as he shrugs. “Sometimes it’s fine just wearing light shirts and taking antibiotics if there’s a problem. If it’s bad, I call in a nurse I have on call. She’s discreet.”

I stare down at the gory mess in front of me. “You don’t consider this bad ?”

“Mild.”

I swallow at his words, looking at the older scars of crisscrossing pink raised skin. There’s no inch of his back that’s not scarred. And the rest of his torso and arms are covered in tattoos that must’ve taken hours upon hours.

He said he was a sadist, but he’s a liar. He made my skin tender with the caning, it’s true, but it didn’t even leave a mark… whereas this …

I suck in a deep breath, twist off the top of the antibacterial ointment, and set to work. I hate touching the fresh wounds, even with the most ginger of touches. He tries not to flinch, but he can’t help it. I try to work as quickly and efficiently as I can.

There are seven fresh lashes. Some are shorter, but there’s one especially vicious one that stretches from his shoulder to his buttocks, crisscrossing the others. Everywhere it crosses the other wounds, the flesh is split horribly. How can he consider this mild ? I run out of butterfly clips and have to go back to the bathroom for more. That entire drawer is filled with them. As if he always knows there will be a next time.

I swipe my tears for the umpteenth time with my shoulder as I continue the macabre work.

“Donny, please,” I beg quietly, throat raw. “Promise me you won’t do this anymore.”

He’s quiet a long time as I stretch out the roll of bandaging down the long lash-mark and tape it down.

“I dunno how to stop.”

“You’ll stop because I’m here now,” I say fervently. “There’s no need for it anymore. He was a demon, but he’s gone and I’m here. We won’t let him win. Do you hear me, Domhnall?” I demand, unspooling more bandaging from the roll. “We won’t let him win. This is our life now. You and me together. And we’re taking it fucking back .”

Beneath me, Domhnall starts to shiver.

“Donny?” I ask. “Shit, you must be freezing. I’m almost done, then we’ll get you under the covers.”

He nods but doesn’t say anything. I quickly finish bandaging his back, then I start to pull the covers up over him.

But I barely get them up over his butt before he’s twisting in bed and grabbing me around the waist.

“Careful, your bandages!” I cry.

He just grunts something like, “They’ re fine,” before burrowing his head against my stomach, big arms wrapped around my waist. I blink down at him, this hulking giant wrapped around me like I’m his only comfort in this world.

I drag some pillows behind my back and settle against the headboard, then sink my fingers into his hair.

“Shhh, it’s all right, love,” I whisper, more tears pricking at my eyes even though I’d have thought I was out of tears by now. “It’s all going to be all right. Shhh, now. Everything’s going to be all right.”

His face burrows even tighter against my stomach and I blink up at the ceiling and cradle him to me. “It’s all right now, love.” And in the quiet of my billionaire’s mansion, I pray that my words are true.