Claws

Chapter Sixty-Six

I'd passed by the guest room in Zale's house several times and entered it only a couple of times after Zale and I had temporarily marked each other. To me, the placement of the decor had always seemed slightly different than the rest of the house. It was still modern, but there was just something that made the room stand out. I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

The furniture was sleek and modern, with clean lines and minimalist shapes and curves. The bed was a plush, white platform with a tufted headboard in a soft, blush color. Crisp white sheets and a pale blue duvet cover with a subtle texture were combined on top. The nightstand next to the bed was a simple, white side table with a drawer holding a small vase filled with fresh flowers.

A combination of overhead lighting and table lamps lighted the room. The overhead lighting was a modern, minimalist fixture that provided soft, warm lighting, and the table lamps were smaller and more ornate, with rounded shades in a soft, creamy color.

"Now that I think about it, this room seems more girly," I mumbled, exploring the large bathroom and walk-in closet that was somehow filled with new clothes that looked around my size.

I covered my mouth when I opened the drawers in my closet. They were filled with decorative underwear and expensive, colorful bras, all in my size. They didn't look like lingerie, but they were a bit too frilly for my taste.

"Geez, Linda. What are you thinking, giving me stuff like this to wear in your son's house? I have morals, you know." I gritted my teeth, snatching a pair of the least lacy undergarments out of the drawers, along with some gray sleep shorts and a soft red button-up sleep shirt. "Seriously."

It was sickening from how hard it was to peel off my filthy clothes in the bathroom, and it took forever to wash the blood out of my hair and off my skin in the shower. The way the blood looked, running down the drain, made me sick. The whole time, I silently cried, knowing it wasn't mine. It was made of the blood of the people I'd just murdered, the rest coming from Zale's wounds. Even though they were Southerners, I'd taken lives. They had families. Parents. Friends. Spouses. Maybe even kids. I'd destroyed more than just five lives.

After I finally stopped crying and scrubbed myself clean from head to toe, I got out of the shower, slipped on my clean clothes, brushed my teeth, and opened several doors until I found deodorant, perfume, and several types of expensive hair products to use. I raised my eyebrows.

Was he preparing for me to move in or something? Or was he just showing off his wealth?

When I walked out of the bathroom, smelling and looking the exact opposite of how I had when I got in the shower, I quickly ran to the kitchen and grabbed some ointment for Zale's back. I immediately slipped it into my pocket and then headed towards Zale's room. I heard water running, although I couldn't tell if it was from his shower or sink.

"Zale?" I called out, knocking on his door. When I didn't hear an answer, I bit the inside of my cheek, opened his bedroom door, and slowly walked inside with one of my hands hovered over my eyes. "Zale, are you okay?"

I jumped when I heard his bathroom door swing open, instinctively squeezing my eyes shut while quietly cursing.

"Nice PJs. Those shorts are a little bit dangerous, though," Zane's amused, playful voice drew nearer with every word. I was too scared to move at that point, so I just continued to squeeze my eyes shut, hoping he was dressed. "I only picked out sweatpants and T-shirts for you, but you came in the PJs my mom bought. I guess she has better taste than I do. Or maybe you wore this outfit to provoke me?"

"Provoke you? I liked the sweatpants and T-shirts too. I just grabbed whatever was on top in the drawers." I shifted where I stood, still keeping my hand over my eyes. "You're dressed, right?"

"No, I walked out of the bathroom to greet you stark naked. I thought flashing my girlfriend without her consent would be a good idea," Zale laughed, his voice full of sarcasm. "You can put your hand down, sweetheart. I'm decent. I just finished brushing my teeth."

"Sweetheart? What about me is sweet?" I scoffed, slowly lowering my hand. "You better not be lying."

"Me? Never."

I flushed to see that Zale was only wearing gray sweatpants and no shirt. He had a small towel clumsily placed on top of his head, and small droplets of water still clung to his body from the humidity of the shower steam that had accumulated in his bathroom. He gave me a blindingly gorgeous smile when he noticed how tense I was.

Why did this man have to be so sexy? It always gave him the upper hand in situations when all I wanted was to have a serious conversation with him without having my mind wander.

My embarrassment and momentary ogling stopped when I saw how bruised his ribs were and how weak his stance was. Showering must have been painful for him.

"Come and sit on the bed. It would be best if you weren't standing in your condition," I gently said, reaching out for Zale to take my hand.

"See? You can be sweet." Zale weakly laughed and took my hand as I helped him to his bed. "And I saw you staring. I know my body is majestic, but you're making me all shy."

"Get over yourself." I rolled my eyes, cracking a smile as he gave me a fake self-conscious look, crossing his arms over his chest.

When I got closer to Zale, I realized he was releasing more pheromones than usual. Although it smelt incredible, mixed with the scent of his body wash, I was beginning to feel dizzy. "Is there a reason you're releasing so many pheromones?" I cleared my throat, sitting Zale down on his bed while grabbing the towel on his head.

He laughed again as I began to towel dry his hair, willingly putting his head down to enjoy my coddling.

What a child.

"I usually release more pheromones than usual when I'm injured or feeling sick. Sorry to disappoint. I can release more if you want me to set the mood you had in mind, but I don't know if I have a lot of strength, so you'll have to initiate--"

"No, thank you," I quickly interrupted him, gently shoving the wet towel in his face. "I'm sleeping beside you in this bed ONLY to give you some of my pheromones so you can heal tonight. We also need to finish our conversation. Now, stay where you are. I got some ointment to put on your back so it'll heal faster."

"Yes, My Heart," Zale sighed when I crawled behind him. He laughed when he glanced back and saw my embarrassed glare.

"Stop it. Just because We're together now doesn't mean I want or will allow you to call me stupid pet names. Bambi was already enough," I sighed, sliding the ointment out of my pocket and twisting the bottlecap open.

When I took another look at his back, I was surprised to see the skin around his wounds had become less swollen and inflamed. He was already beginning to heal.

Zale winced when I began to apply the medicine, telling me it was okay to keep going when I asked him if he was alright. The whole time I tended to his back, we stayed silent as if we were trying to think of what to say next.

Although Zale and I had just momentarily lightened the mood, it vanished in a second.

We both knew we had a heavy conversation ahead of us.