Nixon’s POV"Stand still."The command left my throat raw, scraping against the humid air of the bathroom. Scout did not move. Her spine straight, a rigid line of bone and tense muscle underneath the torn, bloody fabric of her dress. Crimson streaks had dried into dark, crusty tracks across her bare shoulder blades.I reached for the zipper.Her body locked instantly. The sudden stiffness in her shoulders travelled straight down her back, a silent scream of absolute resistance."Relax," I muttered.She did not. She shifted her weight, a tiny, miserable twitch of her frame, but the steel in her muscles remained tight.I caught the metal tab of the zipper between two fingers and pulled down. The teeth parted with a sharp, rhythmic click. Piece by piece, the ruined cloth fell away to reveal the pale curve of her back, ruined by mottled purple bruises and smeared filth. My knuckles brushed the centre of her spine.She flinched. A violent shiver rippled through her skin, vibrating right in
Last Updated : 2026-08-20 Read more