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“Follow the comb!” She waves the copper-colored, wide tooth comb and a large round brush at me.
I’m not good enough that it’s time to consider a career-switch, but together, we manage to dry most of her long, thick waves. Shelby twists it into two loose braids before finally setting her comb down. Her legs wobble and I slip an arm around her waist. “Time for bed.”
“That sounds good.”
She squints as the bright light from the bedroom hits her eyes. I flick off the overhead bulbs, leaving only the lamps next to the bed on.
Her blank gaze searches the room for a second before settling on the bed.
“Here.” I hold up one of my shirts. “Let’s get you under the covers before you catch a chill.”
She nods slowly and moves closer, tossing the towel on a nearby chair. I slip the shirt over her head and pull the fluffy white comforter back.
Once she’s between the sheets, curled on her side, I cover her up. But damn, she still looks so miserable and I have no idea how to relieve her.
Time. She needs rest and time.
“You’re safe, Shelby.” How can she believe me after she was stolen on my watch once before? “Sleep as long as you need. Don’t worry about a thing.”
She shifts, patting the pillows behind her. “Are you coming to bed?”
“Yup. I’ll be right next to you all night.”
“Okay.” She yawns and tucks her hand under her chin, closing her eyes.
I switch off the lamp, watch her for a few more seconds, then quickly hurry through my own nightly routine.
She’s still curled on her side when I return. I flick off the rest of the lights, plunging the room into total darkness. Helpless little noises pass her lips. Her body jerks, arms and legs twitching. Every tortured cry twists the thorns of guilt in my chest even tighter.
“Shhh.” I slip into bed and pull her body against mine. Gradually she relaxes, her breathing turning deep. “I’m right here, Shelby.”
I hope it’s enough to help her feel safe.
Chapter Nineteen
Shelby
Anxiety tingles through my chest.
I blink open my eyes and stare into the shadowy room.
Long curtains come into focus. Weak sunlight peeks around the edges.
A heavy presence behind me shifts.
My heart jumps, then settles when I recognize Rooster’s breathing. Something tickles over my shoulder. His heavy arm curls around my waist. I roll to my back, wincing as all my aches and pains wake with me. I must’ve slept in the same position all night and my body’s announcing its extreme displeasure.
“Morning.” Rooster’s gruff rumble greets me.
“You’re awake?”
“Mostly. It’s early, though. Get some more sleep.”
I stare up at the ceiling. How’d everything go from great to horrible so fast? My thoughts are too jumbled to sort and my eyelids slowly close.
The room’s brighter the next time I wake.
I roll to the side, coming face-to-face with Rooster’s warm chest and I burrow against it. He slides his arm around me, gently rubbing my back. His presence is such a sweet, stunning relief, and I snuggle closer.
“How do you feel?” he asks.
“Hurt.”
His hand stops moving and he rolls to his back.
“No, I—”
“Shelby, I’m so sorry.” The pain in Rooster’s voice cuts straight through me.
I pull away. “Don’t.” My voice quivers. “Please don’t apologize. You rescued me—”
“He never should’ve gotten his hands on you in the first place.” Regret clings to his words, filling the space between us. “That’s on me. It’ll haunt me until the day I die.”
I shift and sit up, resting my hand on his chest and staring into his troubled eyes. The hurt and remorse etched on his face releases the sorrow that’s stuck with me since waking in the hospital.
Logan’s always so stoic. Steady. Rock solid. Admitting any sort of weakness isn’t in his nature. But being honest and expressing his grief to me is more important than his pride. His admission heals some of the brokenness inside me.
And I need him to understand none of what happened is his fault.
“Logan, I never once blamed you.”
He opens his mouth—probably to argue with me—but I silence him with a finger against his lips. “Please, listen.”
When he nods, I move my hand from his mouth to his cheek. “You heard what I told Jackson. He…the guy…” I refuse to say my kidnapper’s name. “He told me he’d been stalking me for a while. Longer than we suspected. He originally planned to grab me earlier at a different show. You weren’t with me then.”
I blow out a long, shuddering breath. Between the numb moments, I’ve thought about this a lot. Considered all the possible scenarios. “The truth is, I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t been there the night he took me. If you hadn’t reacted as fast as you did—chasing down the van, getting the plate number—”
“Shelby.” His raw voice slices into my heart. “I was supposed to be protecting you. He never should’ve gotten so close. Never. That’s on me.”
