“I know you’re scared,” he murmured. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”
“I-I need to be cleaned,” I whispered. “Please. Get it off me.”
He didn’t say another word. I was placed in the shower, with him following me in, fully clothed in one of the dark suits he often wore.
“Your clothes,” I mumbled.
“Shh.” He began washing and scrubbing me after he sat me on the seat against the tiles, his face a stone mask of pure fury.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, but he ignored it.
“Ani—”
“It’s fine,” he said tightly. “You’re more important.”
He removed the showerhead and set to work scrubbing my hair. I cried, my body shaking the entire time as I watched the red water fall around me.
“Close your eyes, baby,” he said gently. “OK? Close them. Let me handle this.”
I did as he said.
“Now, deep breaths. In. Out. Breathe with me, my love.”
I tried, but I was too worked up. I’d had fans do a lot of odd things over the years, but no one had ever done anything even close to that. All I could think about was what if it had been a knife or a gun? Then what? Ellis would be without me. My family would be without me.
Anson’s soft, shaky singing sounded out.
I squeezed my eyelids tighter, listening to the way he sounded. He’d have been a big deal had he followed his dreams. Instead, he’d pushed me to have mine.
He continued cleaning me until he finally turned off the water. The door opened, and then a warm towel was wrapped around me.
“Good as new,” he said softly as he dried me off.
I stared up at him, taking in the sadness and anger on his face.
“I’m going to order you something to eat,” he said, his voice thick. “You’re going to eat it. I-I need to get you to the hospital. What if…” His voice trailed off, his throat bobbing before he shook his head quickly. “Then, you’re going to sleep. I’m going to handle this. Call Evan like always, OK? Can you do that?”
I swallowed and nodded. “Y-Yeah. I-I can do that.”
“Good girl,” he murmured, dragging a soft white robe onto my body.
I didn’t even get to walk. He lifted me easily into his arms and brought me straight to our king-size bed and placed me in it, tucking me in tightly before pressing a fierce kiss to my forehead. He turned on the TV, and a romantic comedy came on.
“I’ll be right back,” he said.
“OK,” I whispered, curling into a tight ball.
He stepped away and grabbed new clothes, letting me know he likely wasn’t going to be sleeping tonight since they weren’t his pajamas.
He left the bedroom, and I could hear him on the phone in the living room area moments later, his voice rough.
I turned up the TV so I wouldn’t have to hear whatever was happening.
I just wanted to forget the entire ordeal because I wasn’t afraid to admit that I was terrified.
I knew in my heart it was blood. Anson knew it.
But god,why?
