47 Nine (1/2)

Salt

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I watched her as shelaid her hand across her chest, her breathing erratic and unhinged as stars twinkled in her eyes.

She was beautiful. In every way. From the color of her hair to the tips of her toes, Jessie was like a bright light, slowly being drowned to silence her beauty. Every scar, every bruise, every cut, each one had a story.

A story I wished she didn't have, memories I wished she never had to relive inside her head.

You really are too beautiful.

Resting my head in my hand, I looked down on her. ”Tell me about yourself. How long have you been with him?”

”You don't really want to hear my life story.” Her eyes fluttered up to mine, flicking back and forth as the question seemed to press on her chest. Inhaling a sharp breath, she held on to it for a moment before giving me a vague answer. ”Too long.”

”No, really, I want to know. Exactly how long?”

I wasn't sure why, but I needed a real answer. I wanted the truth. I wanted to know all her secrets, all her pain, everything she had to endure that brought her to this point. And then I wanted to strip them from her, leaving her bare and weightless, new from the inside out.

You'll never fix her.

Rolling onto her side, she tucked her hands under her head and pulled her knees up, snuggling into the blanket. ”What does it matter? Any time with that man is too long.”

”Why haven't you run?”

Glancing down at the light colored scars on her shoulder, she ran her hand across them. A feigned smile spread across her face as she softly touched the curve of her shoulder.

I had my answer.

”Those aren't scars, they're your strength.”

Blinking, her lashes fanned across her eyes like canopies as her lips parted like she wanted to scrutinize my comment. Her tongue came out, slowly licking her bottom lip. ”I wish I could see it that way, all I see are reminders of a stolen life.”