The concern in his eyes pushed my answer back into my mouth. If I told him, it would hurt him. Maybe more than he already was. I reached for the welts that sliced through his face, but didn't touch them.

"You need to tell me who did this," I demanded.

He took my fingers in his hand and brought them to his lips. "I need to know what happened to you."

His warm breath on my fingertips charged my heart. "You first." I knew I was stalling, but I wanted to cherish ...