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“Damien, this wasn’t your fault.”
“It is, because I couldn’t protect you. I should have erased your memory that night, moved you and your family elsewhere far away from Marcus, far away from this mess, where you could be safe. I should have seen the warning signs with Cole. I can’t believe he—” His voice broke.
A painful silence was left in the wake of his words, the only sound was that of singular water droplets falling from the faucets and hitting the pool below, echoing off the tile. I sat at the edge of the tub, my chest pressed against the tile. Guilt and sorrow danced across Damien’s face as his eyes moved over me.
I pushed off the tub wall, turning to the back of the shower in the water. “Get undressed.”
“What?”
“You’re in just as rough of shape as I am, and I feel terrible being clean while you sit there like that.” I mustered as much confidence as I could. “Now get undressed.”
I closed my eyes, tilting my head back into the water to wet my hair. I never knew that taking a bath could be so relieving, and it felt as if it had been ages since I showered.
As I lifted my head from the water, fabric shuffled behind me, and the unzipping of his pants reached my ears. I focused on my breathing, the sound sending my heart into a frenzy, feeling the weight of what I’d just told him to do. The fact that he was just feet from me, fully undressed...
The water rose when he sank down into its depths. My heart thumped wildly, my senses heightening until I could almost feel the narrow distance between us.
“I don’t blame you,” I said, running my hands over my arms, wishing the water might wash away any trace of Marcus.
The water rippled as he moved behind me, his hands coming to rest against both sides of my upper arms, and he tenderly kissed the top of my shoulder. “I still disagree, but thank you for that.”
His hands reach into my hair, parting it as he checked the stitches he’d placed almost a week ago. It was difficult to think that it had only been a week since that night in the apartment complex. It felt like weeks.
“The stitches were broken, but thankfully it looks like the wound mended itself enough that it won’t be an issue. It also looks like most of your wounds aren’t deep enough to warrant stitches.”
My lips parted, but I had no words. All I could think about was how Marcus had handled me. It was no wonder the stitches had broken.
Damien reached over, grabbing a bottle of shampoo, pouring some into the palm of his hand before reaching up to massage it into my hair. He was careful and attentive, avoiding the area where I was still healing as best as he could, gentle in everything he did.
I closed my eyes. The feel of his fingers against my skin relaxed me down to my bones. My shoulders went slack, and I hadn’t realized how tense I’d been this entire time. I let my head lean back, a soft groan escaping my throat.
I can’t lose you. Not again.
The echo of Damien’s voice danced again through my mind. Everything I’d seen in the dreams had felt so painfully real. The moments after I’d awoken were a bit of a blur, and I barely remembered what I’d said to him. But I remembered how fresh the terror felt, how death felt. I’d felt it once before and had happily forgotten it.
The question lingered on my lips, but I was too scared to ask, wasn’t ready to talk about whatever it was that I saw. Not now. Too much had happened, and I just wanted to feel some semblance of normalcy. Even if just for tonight.
Tomorrow… Tomorrow, I would face my demons.
Tonight? Tonight was for me to be with him, to live when I’d accepted that I’d die before I could again, to just be myself, to escape the reality of what I’d faced over the last week. I wanted to gaze upon his face and know that if nothing else, he was my reality.
Warm water cascaded over me as he washed the shampoo from my hair. He followed it with conditioner, combing his fingers through my curls. My heart swelled at the affection that poured into me with each touch.
“It’s your turn.” I turned around to him, staying low in the water so I remained hidden. He sat there in the water, unmoving, his eyes meeting mine for a moment. He settled back against the wall of the tub, his arms lifting to rest on the edge.
My eyes wandered across his face, down to the wound on his chest. I cupped my hands, lifting water to pour over it. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply.
“I’m sorry. Does it hurt?”
“It’s fine. This is nothing.”
His words hurt me—the truth that they exposed. This likely wasn’t the worst injury he’d sustained in his lifetime, and it surely wouldn’t be the last.
I grabbed the soap, lathering it into a bath sponge. I moved back to him, gently working it over his skin, washing away the dirt and sweat. I did my best to avoid the gash, washing around it. His skin was soft and slick from the bath, his tight muscles shifting under my touch. His heart raced beneath the surface as mine did, and it made me smile.
The raw power of him was electric under my fingertips, power that I still hadn’t been able to fully comprehend, power I’d seen kill with my own eyes tonight. Yet, knowing what I did, it didn’t scare me.
I knew this dangerous creature, more than I could explain. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that he would never hurt me. No matter what.
