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Taken by surprise, Max picked up the gun and waved it in the direction of the new voice and fired.
At Wayne.
Chapter Eighteen
Maria wept with Jeff. If only she could take his pain away, she’d gladly bear it all herself. He had finally calmed down. His handsome face and eyes were swollen and red from crying. She’d never imagined Jeff crying. He’d always been so strong.
But he was human. And he’d been to hell and back.
She understood now. She understood that he’d felt every ounce of pain those poor men had gone through, to the point where he’d wished it were him going through it, because that might be preferable to witnessing it. She understood all too well.
Any mother understood. Thank the good Lord, her children hadn’t suffered anything so horrible, but every time they had gone through a difficult time, Maria had nearly died watching their pain and would have gladly borne it to save them the suffering.
She knew she’d never truly understand the horrors Jeff had witnessed and experienced, but she finally understood where his head was.
Could she help him?
She didn’t know. But she could be here for him, and that’s what she intended to do.
She nudged him. “Come on. You need a bath.”
He shook his head. “I don’t take baths.”
She stood and pulled at his arm. “Today you do. It’ll relax you.”
His sunken eyes seemed to look right through her, until they softened. “Okay, Mia. Whatever you say.”
She led him to the master bathroom and started the water. “I don’t suppose you have any essential oils?”
That got a little smile out of him. “Fresh out.”
She nosed through the cupboards. “Maybe Angie left something.” But no, nothing. Plain water would have to suffice. Didn’t matter anyway. He only needed the warmth and the steam to relax his body and mind.
She tested the water and plugged the drain. She wanted it hot but not too hot. “Splash some cold water on your face a few times,” she said to Jeff.
“Mia…”
“Did I give you a choice? Go on now.” She inhaled. She was starting to sound like a mother here. She definitely didn’t want to be his mother. “Sorry. But it’ll help. I promise.”
He obeyed her and then turned toward her, droplets of water hanging from his unruly hair. Even in the state he was currently in, he still took her breath away. He was the handsomest man she’d ever seen.
“Go ahead and take off your pants,” she said. “The water’s about ready.”
Again he obeyed her and stepped into the tub.
“I’ll be right back.” She hurried to the kitchen and grabbed a large cup. When she returned, he was leaning back in the tub, his eyes closed.
“Before you get too relaxed, let’s take care of your hair.”
He sat up, saying nothing. Clearly, he’d decided to go along. She poured cupfuls of water over his head to wet his hair and then massaged a liberal amount of herbal shampoo onto his scalp. She washed gently, massaging, trying to help him relax. A low groan told her she was succeeding. When she’d finished, she rinsed, again with the cup, and dried his eyes with a soft towel.
She squeezed some shower gel on a shower pouf and washed his body, being careful to keep it as nonsexual as she could. He needed comfort right now, not sex. And after witnessing his breakdown and learning what he’d been through, she wasn’t much in the mood either.
When she’d cleaned him as best she could, she stood.
He opened his eyes. “Where are you going?”
“Just out to the bedroom. You relax. Enjoy the water. Take as long as you want. Get out when you start looking like a prune.”
