Why You Should Never Rescue Stray Demons Chapter 59

**OZ**

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my heart which is racing in my chest. Then I carefully push the bathroom door open. I’d suspected she wouldn’t be able to manage on her own, her injuries are bad, worse than she is willing to admit. But my Kacia… She’s the type who has to try for herself first, even if it means nearly collapsing in the attempt. That stubbornness is part of what I love about her. Even when it terrifies me.

The door creaks as it swings inward, and I step quietly into the room. She looks so small, leaning heavily against the counter, her shoulders hunched in defeat. Her hair falls limp around her face, streaked with soot and dried blood, the tips brushing against her bruised collarbones. There’s something in the slump of her posture that guts me, like all the fire has been drained out of her, leaving only exhausted embers.

“Anything you need.” I say softly, keeping my voice low and gentle. I mean every damn word. If there is anything I can do to make this better for her, to ease the pain even a fraction, I’ll do it.

Clarence’s lecture from earlier echoes in my mind, sharp and merciless. ‘This is your fault. If you hadn’t been such an idiot, she wouldn’t be in this state.’ He wasn’t wrong. I was trying to protect her. But I went about it all wrong, didn’t I? My father told me once that if you try to follow two paths, you’ll tear yourself in half. I think… I think what he meant was that you need to commit to a course of action. No hedging. No halfway. Because trying to do everything just means you end up failing at everything. I learned that lesson a little too late.

I was TRYING to keep her safe… While also keeping my secrets. Protect her while lying to her face. Turns out, you can’t do both. Not really. Not without destroying the very thing you’re trying to protect.

Now… Now none of that other stuff matters. Getting home? Of course I want to see my family again, more than anything. But not at the cost of her life. As much as I hate to admit it, they will be just fine without me. Her feelings for me? Yes, of course I want her to think well of me, to look at me with that softness in her eyes. But after seeing her lying broken in that parking lot, half dead under the wraith’s claws… I’d take her hatred a thousand times over if it means she lives.

She takes a few shallow, trembling breaths, her lips pressed together as she tries to hold herself together. But her hands are shaking. Her shoulders quiver with suppressed sobs.

“What do you need from me, darling?” I ask, voice rough with everything I can’t say because I suspect she would go running and that’s a little unfair since I doubt she actually can right now. She lets out a long, shuddering sigh. Her eyes squeeze shut, and I see the exact moment the last scrap of her stubborn pride crumbles away. Tears spill down her cheeks, carving clean lines through the dirt and blood smeared across her skin. The sight is enough to break me in two.

I cross the bathroom in two quick strides. I want to pull her into my arms, crush her against my chest and promise her that nothing will ever hurt her again. But she’s so battered, her ribs, her shoulders, her back. I can’t touch her without risking more pain. So instead, I hook my arms carefully under hers, lifting her with as little pressure as I can, and settle her gently onto the counter so at least she’s off her feet.

She sways slightly, and I keep a steadying hand on her hip. My other hand reaches up, almost of its own accord, brushing her tangled hair back from her face. The strands are grimy, stuck together in places with dried blood. But beneath the mess, she’s still so achingly beautiful it hurts to look at her.

“It’s okay, I’m here. Let it out.” I murmur, my thumb stroking softly over the uninjured side of her jaw. Her shoulders hitch with another silent sob.

“I… I thought I was dead, Oz…” She whispers, her voice cracking around the words. Her eyes glisten, wide and dark with remembered terror. I feel something dark and primal twist in my chest, sharp as claws. I lean in closer, lowering my forehead to hers.

“I know. But you’re not dead. I will not let that happen.” I promise. She sniffles, a broken, watery sound that tears through me.

“I know. If I was dead it probably wouldn’t… Hurt so much.” She manages, her lips curling into a faint, humourless smile. A strangled laugh escapes me, thick with grief and relief.

“That’s true.” I say softly, trying to match her fragile attempt at humour. She shivers again, and her gaze flickers to mine, unfocused and tired.

“You know, you’ll probably feel much better when you’re clean. You don’t like mess. You’re nearly as bad as Angelo.” I say, brushing another lock of hair behind her ear. A ghost of a smile tugs at her lips.

“Yeah.” She agrees weakly. I take a breath, steadying myself.

“Will you let me help you?” I ask, my voice rough with desperation I can’t quite hide.

“Please, Kacia. I just… I want to take care of you.” I half plead. For a moment, she just stares at me through tear reddened eyes, silent and trembling. Then, slowly, she gives the tiniest nod. “Okay.” She whispers.

I move slowly. Carefully. Every action measured so she knows there’s no rush, no expectation. The first thing I do is turn on the shower, letting the water run until steam curls lightly from behind the glass. Then I turn back to her.

She’s still sitting on the counter, breathing shallowly, clutching the edge so hard her knuckles are white. Her eyes dart to me, wide and uncertain, but she doesn’t pull away as I step forward.

“Alright, princess, let’s get this off you.” I murmur softly, slipping my fingers under the hem of her top. I go to lift it gently, but the second the fabric tugs at her side, she sucks in a sharp breath through her teeth.

“That hurts?” I ask quickly, freezing in place. She nods, her face pinching with pain.

“I think it’s… Stuck to something.” Her voice is small and strained.

“Ah.” I exhale slowly, forcing my pulse to calm.

“Okay. No problem. We can take care of that.” I say, projecting confidence. My gaze flicks down, checking for other injuries.

“Are your pants stuck too?” I ask. She shakes her head, her hair falling around her face.

“I don’t think so…” She whispers.

“Okay. I’m going to help you get them off, alright?” My tone is careful, calm, giving her every chance to say no. She gives the tiniest nod of consent, her eyes darting away from mine.

I move slowly, fingers deft as I unbutton her jeans. She shivers under my touch, and I have to clench my jaw to keep my focus steady. I slip a hand under her hips, lifting her just enough to wriggle the fabric down her thighs and off, leaving her sitting in nothing but her underwear and that bloodstained tank top.

Her cheeks flush crimson, the pink stark against her too pale skin. I can’t yank the top off without hurting her. And I won’t. So I take a step back, giving her space.

Her confused gaze flicks up to mine as I hook my thumbs under the hem of my own shirt and pull it over my head. Her eyes widen, pupils dilating as they trace over the ridges of my chest, lingering on my arms and shoulders. Something dark and satisfied curls in my chest at her stunned expression.

I undo my belt next, sliding my jeans down and kicking them aside until I’m left in nothing but my boxers. Her breath hitches slightly, and for a moment, we just stare at each other in silence, the roar of the shower filling the space between us. Steam drifts around us, curling like mist around her dangling feet.

I give her an awkward, half lopsided smile, trying not to make it weird, despite… Everything. Her eyes dart over my bare skin again, and there’s something vulnerable in her expression. Trust. Uncertainty. Relief. Want. All tangled up together in a look that makes my chest ache.

Finally, I step forward again, close enough that she has to tilt her chin up to keep looking at me.

“I’m going to help you into the shower, okay?” I murmur, my voice low and careful.

“Hopefully the water will soften whatever’s keeping that top stuck to you, and we can get it off without hurting you.” I explain. She nods, her shoulders sagging with relief. Maybe because I have a plan. Maybe because I broke the tense silence first. Or maybe… Just maybe… Because she knows I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.

I place my hands gently on her waist.

“Alright, beautiful, let’s get you cleaned u”