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“I know.”
Chapter Four
Rhys
This woman is going to be the end of me, mark my words. Alayna Morgan is everything I’ve ever wanted and thought I could never have. She’s the perfect blend of strong and vulnerable. The strength I see in her every time she pulls herself out of a breakdown barely scratches the surface of the well of unbelievable strength inside of her. The sun rises and sets with her for me. For all of us, I suspect. Riggs and Adam have spent just as long taking care of her this week as I have. I don’t think Riggs has slept more than a couple hours a night since we left the hospital.
Alayna’s black hair is a mess from spending the week basically hibernating in her pain. Still, it does nothing to hide her beauty. She could be all dressed up like she was for her date or completely unkempt like right now, she’s absolutely breathtaking in every way and I can’t take my eyes off of her.
Turning my back to her, I give her some semblance of privacy while she undresses. Hearing her say she trusts me has my heart swelling so much it hurts. For someone like her, who’s been through unimaginable pain in her life, putting her trust in me is huge. It’s something I’ll hold close to me and make sure I never fucking take for granted or lose.
“Can you help me in?” Lay asks, placing a delicate hand on my shoulder. Her body is shaking slightly, the lack of sustenance this past week taking its toll on her.
“Of course,” I murmur, turning to look into her grey eyes, not allowing my eyes to travel anywhere else. Now is not the time to be looking at her body, it’s the time to make her comfortable and take care of her.
Navigating in this small bathroom is a bit of a struggle, but we make do. Standing to help her into the tub, I hold her hand and place my other hand on her hip to steady her. She sits down, the water splashing up the sides of the tub as it displaces. Averting my eyes to the ceiling, I sit on the ground, leaning against the wall beside the bathtub.
Listening to Lay get comfortable in the bathtub beside me, the water sloshing around as she slips underneath. The song Broken by Lifehouse has been stuck in my head for days now, since it came on one of my playlists earlier in the week. Humming out the tune while I relax beside Lay, I hear her sigh in contentment. Turning my head, my eyes catch hers, a fondness in them that brings a smile to my face.
“I like that song,” she whispers softly, her eyes drooping slightly.
“Me too,” I answer before going back to humming, wanting to see more of that beautiful face light up with the song. She sings softly when I start humming the chorus, her voice wrapping around me, drawing me into her with every word.
I am falling so fucking hard for this woman.
“What are you thinking?” Her voice breaks me out of my trance, my eyes blinking to clear the haze of love in my head.
“Want me to wash your hair for you?” I ask, deflecting her question with one of my own. She’s not ready to hear my confession, and it’s not going to happen right now when she’s been through so much recently.
It was a week ago that she found a dead body in her bed and found out the stalking was so much worse than we originally thought. The dark circles under her eyes and the rasp in her voice remind me of the devastating nightmares that have been plaguing her since that fateful night. Lay needs time before she’s bombarded with my thoughts and feelings.
Grabbing the shampoo we bought for her, I massage a good amount into her dark locks, the smell of apricots and lilies surrounding us. It takes a lot of control to contain my rage at the situation we’re in. My hands shake with anger at the thought of Kevin fucking Jennings. The fucker stalking and hurting my girl will pay in one way or another when I finally get my hands on him.
“Rinse,” I say after a moment, dipping my hands beside her to rinse off the suds. My eyes move away as she dips under again, my gentleman side staying strong for her.
“You haven’t asked yet.” Lay sits up after rinsing her hair out, grabbing the conditioner and handing it to me.
“Asked?” My brows draw together in confusion, the conditioner bottle held by both of us. “Asked about what?”
“The scars.” She motions down towards her body, drawing my eyes down. The air in the room heats up as I take in everything I’ve tried so hard not to notice until right now.
It takes my brain far too long to notice the scars she’s talking about, her naked body more than enough to keep my mind occupied for a very long time. The scars are everywhere once you notice them. They criss-cross all over her torso, some flush with her skin while others are raised and jagged. They tell a story of a girl who survived.
“To be honest, I didn’t notice until you pointed it out. I’ve been making sure to not make you feel uncomfortable and keep from looking below your face,” I confess gently, my hand brushing a stray drop of water from just beside her nose. “But I don’t need to ask about them. They’re your story to tell, when and if you feel ready to. You don’t owe anyone an explanation about your body.”
“Goddamn it, Rhys,” she chokes out followed by a laugh. “You guys are far too good to me. I’m not used to it.”
“Well, get used to it,” I tease, kissing her forehead. “Now turn back so I can condition and brush out your hair.”
“Yes, sir,” she teases back. The light lilt to her voice makes me so happy, my cheeks hurt from smiling so big. If Lay is teasing me back then I think she’s truly back with us. It was terrifying not knowing if she was going to come out of it anytime soon.
The rest of the bath passes quickly, her hair thankfully coming out of its knotted state much easier than anticipated. After finishing her hair, I left her to wash up on her own so I could make her some better food to eat. The turkey sandwich I’m putting together has lots of much needed nutrition for my girl. The need to feed her and make her comfortable is riding me hard, every thought I have revolves around those two things.
This is what I do when I feel so fucking helpless like I do with her stalker situation, I take care of people. Growing up in the dysfunctional family that I did, I was only ever worth what I could do for other people. If I wasn’t taking care of everyone in the house, I was worthless to everyone. I wasn’t the golden child, the one who could breathe and get a fucking award for it. They treated me no better than a personal servant, and I fucking went with it for any scrap of attention they would give me.
My grandmother helped me a lot in that regard, taking care of me when no one else wanted to bother. She left me so much when she passed because she knew my parents and brother wouldn’t give me anything. Every day I miss her, she was the only family I cared to have.
“Is Lay still in bed?” Riggs walks in the kitchen, his hair still wet from his after work shower.
