By the time he zooms back in, I’ve dried my body off and pulled my panties on. He pulls a grungy, vintage white t-shirt over my head, and wraps his arms around me again.
“Sit on the edge of the bathtub and I’ll dry your hair,” he tells me.
I grab my brush from my drawer and comb through my wet strands. He turns the hair dryer on high and uses the brush to dry my hair, like they do in the salon.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
HARLEY
Once Ember’shair is dry, I wind the cord up around the hair dryer and put it back in the drawer she had it stored in.
I grab ahold of her hand. “Are you ready to lay down?”
“I don’t think I can hold my eyes open any longer,” she says with a half-smile. Despite the absolute hell she’s endured the past twenty-four hours, she still tries to make me feel better.
We walk into the bedroom and I flip on the fan, turning off the light as she climbs into bed. I climb in next to her, making sure to still keep my distance. PTSD is a bitch, and I don’t want to do anything that could trigger her.
We lay there in the bed, side by side, staring at the ceiling. After a couple of seconds, Maggie runs in on her late-night zoomies, streaking across the bed. It takes me completely by surprise, and my soul about leaves my body, but I quickly look over when I hear Ember choke, instantly relieved when I see she’s cracking up. Her laughing increases,and slowly but surely turns into sobs. My heart is absolutely broken, and I don’t know how to help her.
I pull her into me and cradle her in my arms. She sobs so violently that she begins hyperventilating, and I try to soothe her by shushing her and stroking her hair. “I’ve got you, baby, no matter what.” I hold her while she lets all of her pain out. It’ll never be enough, but I’ll never leave her. We’ll talk about therapy when she’s ready, and decide if that’s the right option for her healing.
“Harley?” her voice asks softly.
“Yeah, baby?” I say, continuing to stroke her hair.
“What did the guys do?” she questions me. “With Dean?”
“You won’t ever have to worry about him again, Ember,” I tell her, wanting to protect her from any more evil inflicted by Dean.
“I want to know, Harley,” she says, looking up at me. “I want to hear with my own ears that he’s gone.”
I blow out a breath. She’s a strong woman and I know she can handle it, but I know she’s fragile right now. “They pulled his teeth, we’ve got them in a secure location to pull out when the time is right,” I begin, wary of how much to disclose. “Chase shot him, right through the head, so there’s no chance of any life.”
She lowers her head and curls her hands together, like she’s trying to ground herself. “What did you do with the body?”
“Do you want the full version, or the simplified one?” I ask her, trying to decide how much gore to subject her to.
“All of it. I need to hear all of it,” she says, face still pressed into my side.
“They shot him, pulled his teeth, and then dismembered him.” She flinches, but I keep going. “They lit the trailer on fire. They used the gas lines as the main accelerant. They took him to the pig farm we sometimes use to dispose of bodies. Once the pigs have done theirjob, and everything hasprocessed, our partners will completely dig up and clean up the pig pen and distribute the bags of fertilizer to farms, gardens, etc. So that any trace of him can’t be pinpointed to one specific location.”
She lays there, digesting my words and taking everything in. “And the teeth? Why take them out?”
“Just in case, for DNA. Chase has them, and he’ll allow them to be found when he thinks it’s safe,” I tell her, turning over in bed to face her. Eye to eye. Tears run down her face, but she doesn’t look scared or in pain. I can’t quite place the emotions I see written across her face.
“He’s gone.” She’s not asking—its a statement.
“You’re safe, Ember Rose,” I tell her before kissing her cheek that’s streaked with her tears.
I lay and watch her slowly drift to sleep, her hands grasping mine tightly. Once I know she’s out, I finally allow myself to let sleep take me.
It doesn’t feel like I’ve slept for longer than a few minutes before Ember starts thrashing and screaming in her sleep. I try to wake her. “Ember! Ember! Baby, it's okay, you’re home and you’re safe.” She curls back into me without waking. Once she settles, she lets out a soft sigh.
I look up and see Atlas peering through the crack of the door. “Is she okay?” she asks softly, trying not to wake her sister.
“I’ve got her,” I assure her. I look over at the clock; it’s early, and the sun will be rising soon.
“I can’t sleep, so I’m going to see what I can pull together for her to eat,” Atlas tells me.
