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I reach for my back pocket and grab my phone, fumbling and dropping it to the tile floor. And as I bend to grab it, the door swings open, and I let out a muffled cry, closing my eyes and stumbling back, bracing myself for him.
‘Izzy?’ Judy’s anxious call dents my meltdown just enough to make me open my eyes to check I’m not hearing things. My arse hits the bank of sinks behind me just as her face falls into focus, and the relief it brings – to see it’s actually her and not Trystan – makes my legs buckle. I crumple to the floor in a heap of shaking limbs, unable to speak.
‘Lord have mercy, what is it?’ The sound of her heels rushing over echoes around the restroom, the knees of her Chanel trousers meeting the floor before me. ‘Izzy, oh my goodness, you’re burning up.’ She feels my forehead. ‘And you’re sweating.’ She dives for one of the folded face cloths that are stacked by the sink above me and runs it under a cold tap, bringing the cool material to my face and patting away worriedly. I hiss when the burn of my cheekbone flames under the cloth. God damn, the pain.
Judy looks over her shoulder when the door opens again, as do I, my shakes intensifying. Jess takes in the scene, eyes wide. ‘What’s happened?’
‘I don’t know,’ Judy says, returning her attention to me. ‘I found her in here. I think she’s having a panic attack.’
‘Izzy?’ Jess says as she hurries over, her medical instinct taking over. ‘Izzy, can you hear me?’ She grabs my wrist and feels. ‘Jesus, your pulse is through the roof. And what the hell happened to your face?’
‘Get Theo,’ Judy orders harshly. ‘He’s gone to the office. Second door on the left out of here.’
Bile burns up my throat, and I scramble free from Judy’s fussing hands and throw my head over the sink, retching painfully. ‘No,’ I plead as Jess heads for the door. ‘I’m fine.’ Theo is going to demand to know what’s wrong. I can’t tell him. It’ll be a murder scene out there.
I feel a palm rubbing at my back and hear faint, soothing words from Judy. My head is blitzed with tormenting memories – the bruises, the bastard’s hand sailing through the air and connecting with my face. His hand on my leg. The knife held at my throat while he warned me not to move. And then the cuts to my stomach when I was stupid enough to, making him fight with me, the knife flailing uncontrolled. I retch again, seeing Jess by the door in the reflection of the mirror. I shake my head as best I can, silently telling her not to get Theo.
‘Go!’ Judy yells. Jess looks at me, torn. But she doesn’t get the chance to obey Judy’s demand.
The sound of the door hitting the wall alerts me to Theo’s presence, followed by a string of explicit language. He’s crowding me a second later, his arms wrapped around my waist, his body bending over mine where I’m braced against the sink. He jolts behind me in time to my continued heaves.
‘I found her in here,’ Judy explains. ‘In a mess, sweating, shaking.’
‘Izzy,’ Theo says softly, pulling my hair back. ‘What’s the matter, baby? Talk to me.’
I can only shake my head, trying to get a hold of myself as my mind works hard, fighting to build an explanation for my epic meltdown.
‘Take your time,’ he whispers, his palm splayed on my stomach, his front pushed into my back. ‘Breathe.’
It takes minutes for me to gain some kind of composure, but when I look up to the mirror, I see that my face is still drained of colour. My watery green eyes meet Theo’s fretful blue ones. And his worry transforms into rage when he catches the mark on my cheek. ‘I’m sorry,’ I mumble, fumbling for the tap to splash my face. ‘I suddenly felt unwell. I tripped in my rush to get to the toilet.’
His hand lands on mine over the tap, stopping me from turning it on, and I look up at him in the reflection of the mirror, feeling his whole body lock up against mine. ‘Leave us,’ he says over his shoulder, his lips hardly moving, his eyes holding me captive.
I detect Judy and Jess moving out of the toilet as dread fills me. My excuse was lame. It was an insult, and Theo looks thoroughly insulted. When I hear the door close, I swallow, watching as his cobalt eyes become darker and darker, fury filling them. He begins to slowly rotate my body until I’m facing him, my head lowering to avoid his wrath.
What can I say? What will he do? Maybe if I keep him here long enough, the bastard who broke me will be gone by the time Theo gets out of the restroom. Firm fingers seize my jaw and lift. The sharp edges of his handsome face are as scary as can be. ‘Tell me why you’re in this state. And tell me what the fuck happened to your face.’
