Home - COD Simon Ghost Riley X Female OC

Chapter 40

Mariana laid in bed for a moment, what she had just done slamming into her and making uncomfortable butterflies turn her stomach. She didn't want to appear so needy, like some kind of release was all she was after. And she wanted him. Sure, she would do anything he said, sure, his hand print was branded around her neck, but damn. Her cheeks flushed. She had to go face him now and it felt dirty. Maybe they weren't quite there yet.

She didn't want him to know that she was ashamed of herself. She could hear him in the kitchen so she slipped out of bed and walked to the bathroom, flipping on the light to stare at herself in the mirror.

She looked thin. Almost sick. No wonder he felt the need to hold her up, she looked like she could barely stand on her own.

She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. At some point in the near future she was going to have to stand in front of the woman that had orchestrated her near death experience, her near disappearance and convince everyone that she hadn't been broken. But she didn't look like a survivor. She looked like she deserved the pity she hated.

She washed her hands, she washed herself and his spit off of her and down the drain. She had spent every moment since she was taken from NY with a goal in mind, envisioning her freedom, and now that she had it she felt lost.

This was exactly what she had been afraid of. Her feet were glued to the floor, she couldn't face him. She didn't want to feel like she had to face him, like he would judge her or hold some lofty expectation for her behavior, she wanted to orbit him like she had been.

Maybe later.

She quietly clicked the door shut and climbed back into her bed, pulling the covers over her head, trying to ignore the fact that her sheets smelled like him.

--

Simon listened to her get up and close the door. He wished he knew how to handle these things, but grace wasn't something he had been blessed with. She had seemed okay when he left the room, but maybe he shouldn't have left. Maybe he shouldn't have made what had happened between them so nonchalant.

What Halcon had done to her had to do with a hell of a lot more than sex, than her ability to be with a man. That's where he should have started, with other things, but he had a weakness in that he couldn't deal with those things either.

He still harbored a lot of anger and a crushing amount of guilt. He slammed the lid on the canister in his hand and looked down at it for a moment. He needed to get a grip. And she, she had held such a tight grip for so long that she needed to let go, rest for a minute. She thought he would see her as dirty when he was the one literally covered in blood. It wasn't just his hands anymore, it was his whole being. He was a monster parading as....something. Whatever she saw him as. But a selfish one. Too selfish to relieve her of it.

She had a lot of healing to do, and maybe he did, too. Maybe he didn't have to try and be her solid brick wall, maybe she would rather have something soft and unsure. Something she could relate to.

After all, buried extremely deep, he did relate. He knew exactly how she felt.

He figured the immediate best thing to do would be to make sure she didn't feel suffocated or trapped. It was a balance, because he didn't want her spiraling either. He didn't want to make her feel alone. Selfishly.

All of it was selfish. He was a selfish man. He shouldn't be deciding what she needed, making assumptions. He should be asking. She was a grown adult, she had the capability of giving him the answers he needed even if it wasn't what he wanted to hear.

Because they had established themselves physically. That connection was unquestionable. He had been vulnerable enough to tell her that he wanted her there, that he was protective of that connection. But he had turned it physical again, because it was a safety net for both of them.