Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 101872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
As he stood, cradling her close, Opal let that sense of safety wash over her. She hadn’t been certain that she’d ever feel safe again. But Renard seemed to have the ability to make her feel that way.
“Hope Stefan is rotting in hell,” he muttered as he carefully set her down in the bed.
She wouldn’t tell him this, but she might have overdone things as it felt like every part of her body hurt.
“Hopefully he is,” Opal told him. “If there’s a God at all, he will be.”
“Barney deserves to suffer too. He hurt you as well.”
“Don’t go after him, Renard.”
He grunted and she was well aware that wasn’t agreement.
“Renard, he’s been arrested. He’ll be convicted. That’s enough.”
“It’s not enough,” he growled. “He kidnapped and beat you. Terrified you and his aunt. The bastard should feel some of that terror that you felt.”
“I’m sure he’s feeling that right now. But here’s the thing, for all the terror that I felt while I was with him, I also had hope.”
“Hope?” he asked as he sat on the bed, facing her.
“Yeah, I had hope and I had faith. When I was with Stefan, I never had that. I thought that was going to be my life until he one day went too far and killed me. But this time, I knew you were out there searching for me. I knew that the Malones were raising hell trying to find me. That Jake would have all of his people searching. Didn’t quite realize the whole town would be on the rampage and neither did Barney. You all came for me and it showed me more than anything that I have people on my side. And that made all the difference. That’s why I could stay calm. Why I could help Mrs. G without losing myself to the fear. Because all of you were coming.”
“I always will come for you, baby. Always.”
“I know.” There was something she needed to explain though. “I know it sounds silly, but me wanting to do my makeup . . . well, my hair, clothes, and makeup are like armor for me.”
“I understand needing your armor, a way to protect yourself. I understand it more than you think. But you don’t need to wear that armor around me.”
“What if it’s about making me feel more like me?” she asked. “What if it feels like that’s one part of myself that he took that I wanna take back?”
He was silent for a long moment before nodding. “Then let’s get that back for you.”
Her hand shook as she attempted to contour, and the stick slid right down her cheek. She let out a noise of frustration. She was exhausted and shaky and sore and she just couldn’t get any of this right. Even her foundation looked wrong.
But she was determined to keep going because that bastard wasn’t taking this from her. A sob escaped and she tried to fight back her tears.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Renard asked, rushing into the bedroom. “Are you in pain? You’re not due painkillers for a while.”
He’d set up the large mirror from the closet at the end of the bed for her. It wasn’t ideal but he wouldn’t hear of her using the bathroom one.
“It’s not that,” she said with frustration. “It’s me. I can’t do it. I can’t do it, and I need to do it. I need to be me.”
Even if she was a battered, bruised version of herself.
“Then let me help you.” He sat on the bed, facing her. “What were you trying to do?”
“Contouring,” she told him.
“Okay, no idea what that is. But you explain it and I’ll do it.”
“Really? You will?” she asked in amazement.
“Of course, baby. I would do anything for you.”
Fifteen minutes later, he stepped back.
“What do you think?” he asked. “More mascara?”
She glanced in the mirror. She still looked terrible. The concealer wasn’t strong enough to cover all of her bruises, and there was nothing that could be done about the swelling or the cut on her lip. But she felt herself starting to breathe easier.
“I think that’s enough mascara.”
Nodding, he put her mascara down, then stepped back, studying her closely. “I don’t think I did a good job on the contouring.”
“Contouring is hard to do, especially when you have to work around bruising and swelling. I think you did a great job, darlin’.”
“Was like magic, that stuff. Sure I didn’t put on too much blush?”
“Nope.” For some reason tears filled her eyes.
“What is it? Damn it, fucked it up, didn’t I? I need some makeup lessons.”
A laugh escaped her. God, her emotions were all over the place.
“I’ll wash it all off and start again,” he said. “I can get this. Makeup isn’t going to defeat me.”
Reaching up, she grabbed his hand as he tried to leave. “No, don’t go. It’s perfect.”