The Kitten Has Claws

The Kitten Has Claws [Chapter 44]

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Chapter Forty-Four

Everyone headed back to the estate in silence after piling the bodies up and burning them. Thankfully, no one was mortally wounded, just a couple injuries here and there. Once through the doors they split off into groups, heading to bathrooms to clean up.

"Fletcher!" Tamsin called out when she saw him head the opposite direction of everyone else, "What are you doing?"

"I'm hungry, woman!" he called over his shoulder. She sighed and quickly followed after him, entering the kitchen moments later. Fletcher had his head buried in the refrigerator and a box of wheat thins sitting on the counter.

Tamsin watched him, slightly disgusted by all the blood and gore on his body. If he expected her to touch him in any way before he cleaned up he was in for a rude awakening. "Shouldn't you get cleaned up first?"

"What does it matter? I'm hungry, always am after a fight. So unless you want me grumpy, you'll let me eat." He grabbed food from the fridge and set it on the counter with a satisfied smile. "You want anything?"

She shook her head, there was no way she could stomach anything right now. Not after witnessing that fight and certainly not while Fletcher was standing before her, coated in blood.

"Eh," he shrugged, stuffing his mouth, "Suit yourself." He finished off the wheat thins quickly and placed everything back where it went. "Hokey pokey, let's go get cleaned up, pumpkin."

Fletcher reached out a hand to wrap around Tamsin, but she flinched and shied away. Guilt flooded her face when he froze and slowly looked at her in shock. "Sin?" he questioned in a hurt voice.

She felt mortified that she had offended him, but at the same time she had to control the bile that was threatening to rise just by looking at him. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "I just...can't. Not until you clean up."

Understanding dawned and irritation replaced worry. "Listen well, Tamsin. You had better get used to the sights and smells of battle and exult in it, because for every time I come back covered in blood, other men's blood, it means I have survived and my enemies lie dead. You should be proud that your man has the power and strength to protect you." He was starting to shake with rage and disappointment.

"I..." she broke off, extremely uncomfortable. She felt slightly chastised after his mini speech, yet she was still disgusted. She had never been one to have a strong stomach. "I'm sorry, Fletch. You're going to have to be patient with me."

He gave a defeated sigh and motioned for her to follow him. They entered his room where he quickly stripped, too angry to care about her sensitivities to seeing him naked. "I'll rinse off really quick," he bit out, refusing to look at her.

Tamsin took a step towards him and said softly, "Wait." He paused in the doorway with his back to her. She slowly walked over and rested a hand on his back. "I want to help," her voice wavered in nervousness, "Let me clean you off."

"Sin..." he whispered hoarsely, giving her the opportunity to back out. She was doing her best to prove to him that she cared and that she was making an effort to try. For them. "Alright," he said, walking into the bathroom.

She followed and grabbed a hand towel that she ran under the sink faucet. "Sit down," she commanded, motioning to the closed toilet. He did as she commanded, grinning when she realized he was still naked. Making an uncomfortable noise in her throat, she tried her best to avert her eyes and started on his face.