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"I should go," I say. "I need to shower and get some sleep."
"Call me if you need anything, Samara. I mean it," Troian orders, her voice soft. "I'll be on the first flight out."
"Thank you," I whisper, fighting tears again. I have no idea how I would have made it through the last few years without her and her family. Troian didn't just give me a job. When she hired me to work at her family's company, they adopted me. Her parents, Dom and Summer, treat me like one of their kids. Without them, I'd be entirely on my own.
Once we say our goodbyes, I pull my charger out of my bag and plug it in to charge my phone. I don't have much with me, but Tate helped me carry it up before we went to the hospital earlier. As soon as my phone is charging, I grab clothes and head toward the bathroom for a long, hot shower.
It's the only room in the apartment not completely made of glass. On a good day, this bathroom is a luxury. After spending the last week showering in the hospital shower, it's pure bliss. The floors are heated. Hot water pours from three different shower heads. I use more than my fair share of the hot water, letting it beat down on me. For once, my mind is quiet. I think I'm too tired to worry and cry and stress anymore today.
I barely have my t-shirt and panties on when the bathroom door flies open, banging against the wall. I jump a foot into the air, my hand flying to my heart.
"You left," Tate growls, glaring at me like a pissed off lion.
"You scared the crap out of me!"
"You left," he says again.
"Visiting hours ended." My stomach sinks, anxiety shooting through me. "Did something happen? Is Scout okay?"
"She's fine, angel." He grabs me around the waist, hauling me up against his hard body before I can rush past him. "Nothing has changed."
I sag in his arms, relief loosening my muscles all at once. "I thought…"
"I'm an idiot." His palm settles against my abdomen, his nose sliding down the side of my face. "I scared you."
"Every time I leave, I worry something is going to happen," I admit, melting deeper into his embrace. I tell myself it's just for a minute. That I'll pull away again when my legs stop trembling. But I think I'm lying to myself. It's been so damn long since anyone held me. His arms feel like heaven around me.
"I'm not going to let anything happen to her, baby. I made you a promise. I don't intend to break it now." His lips track down my cheek, his words a soft murmur against my skin.
Even though I shouldn't, I tilt my head, allowing him access to my throat. His stubble scrapes my skin in the most wicked, delicious way as he attacks my neck with his lips and tongue. His hand tightens on my stomach, pulling me closer. His—oh, lord—his erection digs into the small of my back.
"Why'd you leave?" he growls against my skin.
"V-visiting hours."
"Don't apply to you, Samara. We both know it. Why'd you leave?"
He's right. They don't. I can come and go whenever I want. Parents and caregivers have access to the hospital twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. It's the saddest perk of having a child in intensive care, one no one ever wants to have to utilize and yet we find ourselves intensely grateful to have anyway.
"I don't know," I whisper.
"You're afraid."
I nod miserably.
He stops kissing my neck and turns me to face him. One gentle finger beneath my chin angles my head back until my gaze tangles with his. I get lost in those dark emerald eyes again, in the emotion swirling through their depths. Yes, this man is bossy. Maybe even cocky and arrogant, but there's so much more to him too.
"Are you afraid of me, Samara?"
Am I? I give the question the consideration it deserves. He may be in a motorcycle club. That fact may scare the crap out of me. But I'm not afraid ofhim. Even now, knowing the truth, I feel safer with him than I've ever felt with anyone.
"No," I confess on a whisper. "I'm not afraid of you."
His pleased smile is pure sin. It sends a bolt of white-hot desire racing through my veins, liquefying them on contact.
"Good girl," he rumbles, tipping his head down toward mine. "I'll never hurt you, Samara. I'd fucking annihilate anyone who tried."
"I..." I lick my lips, not surethanksis the proper response to such a statement.
