Chapter 9
“Rusty?”
Isabella narrowed her eyes slightly as she called his name. Rusty wasn’t wearing his usual greasy smile, nor was he looking at her with a lewd gaze. Instead, he rolled his eyes around with a wary expression, as if there might be a trap waiting for him in the room.
“Are you alone?”
“Yes. Do you have something to say to me?”
Sensing something off in Rusty’s demeanor, Isabella asked uneasily. As if he had been waiting for this, he rolled his wheelchair into the room.
“Rust.”
“Shh.”
He put a finger to his lips to stop her, glanced around once more, and then approached her.
“There’s something important I need to tell you.”
“What is it?”
Isabella asked as she unconsciously took a step back. Distrusting people might be a bad habit, but prejudice instinctively made her wary. She couldn’t trust a man who, every time he opened his mouth, spewed words too filthy to listen to and bragged about his criminal past. She’d even heard he once served a long prison sentence for rape. Even if he was in a wheelchair, his grip strength wouldn’t have disappeared.
“That man earlier—who is he?”
“You mean that man… Tay?”
“Tay?”
Rusty repeated the name with a scoff. He licked his cracked lips and suddenly grabbed Isabella’s wrist tightly.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Isabella, listen carefully. I’m saying this for your own good—never trust him—”
Knock, knock, knock.
Before Rusty could finish, someone knocked on the door. Both Rusty, who had stopped mid-sentence, and Isabella, grimacing as he held her wrist, turned toward it at the same time. Leaning against the already open doorway was Tay, looking over with an indifferent gaze—more precisely, at Rusty’s hand gripping Isabella’s arm.
Because there had been sharp tension between Tay and Rusty earlier, Isabella nervously looked back and forth between the two men. The moment her eyes passed the frozen Rusty and landed on Tay, a chill ran down her spine. It was only for a brief instant, but his gaze was sharp enough to seem like it could tear her breath apart.
“Are you finished with your work, Tay?”
Isabella asked, narrowing her eyes slightly. Judging from Tasha’s hidden intentions, she’d expected him to return late, so it was surprising.
She felt Rusty’s weakened grip fall away from her wrist. The man who had been anxiously pressing her, claiming he had something to say, swallowed dryly and backed away. He couldn’t even turn his head toward Tay.
“I wasn’t, but I figured I should come check.”
She expected Tay to frown at Rusty, but unlike before, he was smiling—like someone pleased to see a fish caught in a net he’d deliberately left open.
“I-I’ll be going now, then.”
Unable to even finish a proper sentence, Rusty hurriedly turned and left the room. Tay was in his path and their bodies brushed, but Rusty kept his eyes on the floor and didn’t look at him. Isabella, flustered, tried to stop him, but he was already gone.
Staring blankly at the spot where Rusty had disappeared, Isabella turned her head toward Tay. He shrugged as if he knew nothing and smiled innocently.
“Since I’m here, I’d like to get some treatment too.”
He said casually, perching himself on the edge of the desk.
“What kind of treatment? Are you hurt somewhere?”
“I’ve got plenty of places that hurt. Here, and here, and here too. But the one that bothers me the most these days is my back.”
Tay pointed to his collarbone, shoulder, side, thigh, and finally reached behind himself to touch his back. Seeing his face reflexively tighten, it didn’t seem like he was lying about being in pain.
“Then… take off your vest.”
After hesitating, Isabella stepped closer to him. She didn’t know him well, but she didn’t think he was the type to lie about something like this. If he had pain bad enough to interfere with traveling, it would be better for him to treat it in advance.
At her words, Tay removed his vest and pulled his shirt over his head. The form of his body, deeply imprinted in her mind, was revealed without reserve. She’d said it without ulterior motives, but seeing his sculpted physique in front of her made her breathing falter. They’d only met twice, yet somehow she seemed to see this man undressed every time.
“Stay still. I’ll take a look.”
Isabella moved behind him and examined his solid back. When she saw the scar near the inner shoulder blade, close to the teres major, she was momentarily at a loss for words. The irregular horizontal scar was one she recognized all too well.
It was a gunshot wound.
She raised her hand and slowly traced the scar from end to end with her fingers. The raised texture of the healed wound was vividly transmitted to her fingertips. To see it better, she leaned closer and traced the scar again from the opposite direction. So focused was she that she didn’t realize her touch and breath were stimulating his skin.
“Hoo…”
A faint sound of breath escaped Tay’s lips. His jaw tightened, and a vein bulged beneath his ear.
“If you ever get a lover, that person is going to be really annoyed.”
Still facing away, Tay murmured something inexplicable.
“Why?”
Without thinking, Isabella asked, her attention still fixed on the scar. She didn’t even notice that his answer didn’t come right away, that silence had fallen. She was busy gauging the size of the wound, calculating how deeply the bullet must have lodged, pressing gently on the scar with her fingers.
“Bell.”
Suddenly, Tay rose from where he’d been sitting on the desk. He reached out toward her as she looked up at him, confused. When Isabella flinched and tried to pull away, he gently held her waist and whispered,
“I’m not trying to do anything bad, so just stay still for a moment.”
“……”
His coaxing tone made her stop resisting without realizing it. Though Tay could be mischievous, he’d never acted badly toward her. If he’d had ill intentions, he could have done something back at the cabin when she’d dozed off. Sensing he was trying to show her something, she widened her green eyes and waited for his next words.
The back of Tay’s hand touched Isabella’s cheek. His once-calm eyes now held a dark, damp intensity as he looked down at her. It felt as though the quality of the air had changed; suddenly breathing became difficult. Her lips dried like fallen leaves.
His hand brushed down her soft cheek, traced her jawline, then stopped beneath her lips. He tugged lightly at her lower lip before gripping her chin.
Isabella’s eyes widened to their limit in shock. She should have pushed him away and demanded to know what he was doing, but it wasn’t easy. The atmosphere he’d created felt like a spider’s web, binding her in place.
His thumb rubbed slowly side to side atop her small chin. Then his palm slid down as if gripping her throat, following the delicate line of her neck. Wherever his hand touched felt ticklish, like silk brushing against her skin. Somewhere in her body, something like bubbles seemed to rise and swell. Unable to look at him, she lowered her gaze and saw his bare upper body clearly, along with two distinct points.
Isabella squeezed her eyes shut. She thought it might help, but instead the stimulation doubled and spread in all directions.
His delicate fingers traced her collarbone, then stopped just above the curve of her chest. He bent down and poured a warm breath into her ear.
“Hng.”
She unconsciously held her breath. Her body stiffened, her mouth closed. In her hazy state, a languid voice flowed into her ear.
“This is probably what it feels like.”
“……?”
“Every time you touch a man’s body, this is what they feel.”
“W-what are you—”
“That’s why I’m saying your lover would be driven crazy with irritation.”
Everything Tay had just done was the answer to what he’d said earlier. Having explained it with an example, he stepped back from her like a cleanly cut semicircle. In an instant, the trembling and the inexplicable shiver that had enveloped her body vanished. Isabella realized she’d been swept up in the atmosphere he created. Absurdly enough, she hadn’t even thought to stop him while he touched her. It was infuriating. At the same time, anger flared toward Tay.
“I’m not touching men’s bodies for pleasure—I’m treating them. And if my partner were someone who interpreted a well-intentioned act that crudely, I wouldn’t date them in the first place.”
“Is that so?”
“What are you trying to say?”
“That the world doesn’t always go the way you want it to.”
With a strange smile, he put on the shirt he’d left to the side.
“Why were you shot?”
Though the awkwardness lingered, Isabella ended up asking what she’d been most curious about. Tay’s hand paused briefly as he slid his arm into the sleeve, but he soon answered calmly while buttoning his shirt.
“There was an accident at a hunting ground once. A friend and I were driving foxes from different directions, and he mistook me in the bushes for a fox and fired.”
“Oh… I see.”
“It’s fine. It just throbs sometimes.”
“That sounds like an aftereffect. Since you’re here, why not see a doctor?”
“I’ll see.”
Answering halfheartedly, Tay gave a short laugh and left the room.
Watching his back, Isabella leaned against the desk and sank into thought. It was an excuse plausible enough, yet something about it felt off. The more she got to know him, the more it felt like he was disappearing deeper into the fog.
At a glance, he looked like someone who’d grown up cherished in a wealthy family—but maybe not. He was always relaxed, yet never allowed anyone too close. He acted sly, but knew exactly when to retreat and leave the other person flustered. He seemed bright, but artificial. Judging by the scars all over his body, not just on his back, his life hadn’t been ordinary.
What kind of man is he, really?
—
After leaving the treatment room, Tay slipped his hands into his pockets and walked on. Retracing the corridor he’d passed through, he headed toward Rusty, who was hiding in a quiet corner. Before Rusty could turn his head in surprise at the sound of footsteps, Tay grabbed the wheelchair firmly.
“Huh!”
“So this is where you were, Rusty.”
Tay’s brown eyes locked onto his target.
