Page 26 of Sick Little Devotion

“It’s okay, Sara. I won’t touch you.”

I nod, eyeing the silky black sheets. They look warm and inviting, but as I catch the contrast of Aiden’s skin, I feel nervous. It’s been years. And I hate him.

“Come on.” He reaches out and grabs my hand. I start but don’t move. I don’t want him to know he scares the shit out of me. I want him to think that everything is just fucking fine.

“Sorry,” I mutter as I slide between the sheets, unable to hold back the sigh when I feel how soft they are. Still, I’m so tired, but I can’t stop thinking about back home. Does anyone know what’s happened? What will they think when they see that I’m gone?

“I’ve been waiting for this day,” Aiden whispers as I lie facing away from him. There’s enough space in the bed that I don’t have to touch him—and I don’t intend to. I could’ve asked for my own room, but then he might have kept watch over me all night long.

I don’t want that.

“Everything will be okay,” he continues when I’m still silent. I don’t know what to say to him. Nothing is okay, and it won’t be until I get the hell out of this house. So, I start to count as I inhale.

One, two, three, four, five….

And then I exhale.

One, two, three, four, five…

I focus on my breaths, ensuring that they’re long and deep. Aiden falls silent, but he stays true to his word. He doesn’t touch me. I can’t decide if that earns him a little of my respect or if it only serves to make me hate him more.

He’s not the good guy, and he won’t ever be.

Chapter Twelve

SAHARA

Iroll onto my back, staring up at the vaulted ceilings. I don’t know how long it’s taken for Aiden to fall asleep, but it’s felt like hours. My gaze shifts to the right, and I take in his figure. He’s lying facing me, and his peaceful face stirs something in my chest. I want to run my fingers along his body, tracing all the intricate paths of his tattoos.

And I hate it.

He doesn’t deserve to get to me.

He didn’t even give me an explanation for why he left home all those years ago. He just wanted to dance right over it and play house.

Not that I asked him about it. The thought brings forth a little spurt of guilt, but I push it away. He doesn’t deserve my guilty feelings. He doesn’t deserve anything from me.

I take a deep breath and slide out of the bed, moving as quietly as I possibly can. My bare feet pad across the floor, and I nearly laugh. I’m going to escape, and I don’t even have any shoes. No coat, either. Aiden swiped me from home and didn’t bother to make sure I had anything to wear.

My gaze shifts, and I turn, heading for the bathroom rather than the exit. Maybe I can grab a black hoodie from Aiden’s closet to help me blend into the dark. Well, mostly dark. The sun will be coming up, soon. It has to. The night can’t last forever.

The tiles send a surge of jitters through my feet. They feel cold and slick. I leave the lights off and make my way to the closet, the door slightly ajar. He hadn’t shown me the bathroom—or the rest of the house for that matter. I’ll have to figure my way out on my own.

I squeeze my body through the opening, and as I do, a light kicks on. Shit. Shit. Shit. I hurriedly close myself into the walk-in closet and hope that it doesn’t wake Aiden. However, just as I’m about to mentally chide myself for even coming into the bedroom-sized space, I freeze.

There are women’s clothes….

I pour over the clothes and shoes, shocked to see that they’re all in my size. A lot of them are designer, too, and as I sift through them, I start to feel sick. Did he buy all these for me? In preparation for me? Or was there someone else?

“It doesn’t matter,” I whisper under my breath. I dig through the drawers and grab socks and a pair of Nike trainers. I slide them onto my feet, and then retrieve a black knit hoodie on Aiden’s side of the closet. The scent of his cologne fills my lungs as I pull it over my head. It’s borderline suffocating.

I don’t have time to wallow in my self-pity. I need to get moving. I ease the door open just enough to squeeze through the opening and then close it. I take a deep breath and then wince as my shoes squeak on the tile. I cast my gaze toward Aiden’s dark form, still in bed. He doesn’t move.

Now I just have to get the fuck out of here.

Thankfully, my shoes don’t squeak again as I leave the room, carefully closing the bedroom door behind me without a sound. I stare into the dimly lit hallway, realizing that I really don’t know where the hell I’m going. Who even needs a house this big?

My mind tries to conjure up the conversations I had with Aiden in the past, when we were younger, talking about owning a house the size of a small castle. I shove the memories back. I don’t need to relive them. I need to get the fuck out of this situation. And that’s going to start by getting off the second floor.