Noah eased into the bathtub behind her. He extended his legs around her, careful to avoid touching any other bruised areas.
He swept Emily's hair over her shoulder. Staring at her wounds, his anger again escalated, but he remained silent. Instead, he reached for the washcloth on the rim of the tub and wet the cloth in the warm water.
He applied a small amount of soap to the cloth before lightly touching Emily's back. She hissed at the connection of soap and wound. "I'm sorry," Noah said. "I know this hurts, but your cuts need to be clean."
"It's okay. I can take it," Emily said in a ragged voice.
"You shouldn't have to take it." He rinsed the cloth and drizzled water down her back, washing away the soap. "You should be cherished, because you are a gift."
Her body stiffened, then her
