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As soon as I get to the bathroom, I reach under the sink for a trash bag and stuff our clothes into it. I’ll toss them out in the morning. Better safe than sorry.
Next, I open the medicine cabinet and grab my bottle of codeine. A lot of players have old injuries that flare up from time to time, and one of the guys had given me a bottle should I ever need it. I didn’t but kept them around just in case.
She may not feel the pain right now, too numb and traumatized by what happened, but when the adrenaline wore off, she was going to feel like Hell.
Wanting to do whatever I can so she won’t wake up in pain, I unscrew the cap, take a pill out of the bottle, then screw the cap back on, and return it to the medicine cabinet.
After grabbing a spare toothbrush from under the sink, I put a little toothpaste on it, fill one of the spare glasses with tap water, then make my way back to the bedroom.
“Here,” I stretch my hand out when I reach the bed. “Take this.”
She looks down at the tiny pill. “What is it?”
“It will help you sleep.”
She hesitates but when I encourage her to take it, she pops it in her mouth and I hand her the glass. She washes it down with some of the water, and when I hand her the toothbrush, she brushes her teeth slowly, takes the rest of the water to swish around in her mouth, then spits it back into the glass.
“Alright.” I set the glass down on the nightstand and pullback the comforter. “Time to get some sleep.”
She curls into bed slowly, and when she’s situated on her side, head on my pillow, I pull the sheets and comforter up to her chin.
“Will you stay with me?” She reaches for my hand and holds it tight.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Promise?”
I lean in and kiss her forehead, then her nose, and finally her lips tenderly. “Always.”
She pulls our joined hands to her chest, and closes her eyes, and in minutes, she is fast asleep. I know it’s going to be a long night, and my anxiety around talking to Cal is through the roof. But I can’t leave her just yet. Not after everything that just happened.
Knowing how close I came to losing her tonight stirs an emotion in me that I thought I’d never feel again. Pulling my hand gently from hers, I press my fingertips together and when I blow out a heavy breath, I do something I haven’t done since I was fifteen years old—I cry.
When my mom died I promised myself I would never cry again because feeling that release had hurt too much. Sure, I was miserable when I broke up with Ellie two summers ago, but I never let myself feel that loss because I knew if it did it would hurt. But what I was feeling right now… it was beyond words.
For a second tonight, I thought I lost her, and in that frozen moment, life without her flashed before my eyes. Only when I realized she hadn’t been shot, did the tidal wave of relief sweep over me. But I couldn’t allow myself to feel it. I needed to save her.
Now, however, all I can’t do is let it out, and the tears won’t stop. I cry for what Royce and Cal did to her, and those missing girls, and I cry for the past and her father. But most of all, I cryfor how much time I wasted these past two years, when in the blink of an eye, she could have been taken from me and that distance I put between us would have all been for nothing.
Ellie is the love of my life. There is no me without her. No future without us. We are the long game. We have been all along. I lost her once, and nearly lost her a second time tonight, but I won’t let anything tear us apart ever again. I swear my life on it.
Bringing my hands down my face, I take a deep breath, and push up from the bed, pressing my lips to her now warm forehead, before making my way downstairs. It’s time to safeguard our future, by protecting it from the past, which means right now, in the present, it’s time to get some fucking answers.
Chapter 26
Ellery
“Ellie?” Cruz’s voice enters my dreams. “Baby, it’s time to wake up.”
I open my eyes groggily, vision blurred by the veil of sleep, and slowly he comes into view. He’s got a cut over his eye, a couple of bruises along his jaw and temple, and he looks like he hasn’t slept in days.
“Easy,” he cautions as I push up slowly. Reaching for the pillow next to me, he slips it behind my back. “How’s that?”
I try to smile but it hurts. It feels like I’ve been hit by a truck and judging by the way he’s eyeing me, I must look that way, too. “What time is it?”
My voice is raspy and thin, and there are fine grits of sand between my teeth, which feel like boulders when I speak.
“Close to four.” He reaches out and runs the pad of his fingertip over the apple of my cheek. His touch is slight, yet it sends a flash of pain down my jaw.
