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“I know you are. And I promise.”
“Thank you.” A flutter of a smile touches her lips. “Are you sure you want to be my boyfriend? Now that you know the truth about my daughter?” A palpable pain scratches her voice at the last part.
I carefully pull her into a hug, like she’s a delicate blossom. “Of course I do. I want every part of you. Including your daughter. Does that mean you’re my girlfriend?”
She nods. “It does.”
I brush my mouth over hers, grateful to be able to kiss her. “I’ll help you turn the guest room into the dream room you’ve been planning. And I’m sure when the time is right, when her adoptive parents let you into her life again, Amelia will love it.”
My gaze skims over the darkening bruises on her face. “We really should get your injuries checked out at the hospital. And have them documented in case we can eventually use them against Wilson.” I trace my fingers over her ribs and the bruises along her side. “And I want to make sure he didn’t damage your healing ribs.” Or inflict other damage we can’t see with the naked eye.
“That’s probably not a good idea.” Her voice is soft, fragile.
“Why not? I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
She looks toward the window, the curtains closed to the world. “It’s late.”
“The funny thing about hospitals is they’re open twenty-four seven. It’s never too late.” I coerce a half smile to curve onto my face.
“What about Chief—”
I seal away the rest of that sentence with my finger on her lips. “There’s nothing he can do. How will it look if the chief of police discourages victims from receiving medical attention? Especially victims of violent attacks. We just can’t tell them the full truth about what happened. For now, you can’t name Wilson as the assailant.”
I press a kiss on her lips, tender and persuasive. “I can check if Samuel’s working tonight and make sure he’s the one who sees you. Okay?”
Jess gives a slow, tentative nod, not fully convinced going to the hospital is the right thing to do. But I meant it when I said Wilson can’t prevent her from seeking medical attention. And as her concerned boyfriend, who’s not supposed to know what actually happened, I’ll have something to say about it if Wilson causes more trouble.
No one would expect anything less.
“Good.” I send Samuel a text. He responds a short time later. “He agrees you should be checked out. He’ll see us at the hospital.”
Bailey and Butterscotch are waiting for us when we arrive at my house after the trip to the ER. Wilson didn’t seriously injure Jess, but he came close. He could have caused serious kidney damage. Samuel ordered tests in case there is more damage than realized, but it’ll be several days before she gets the results.
Jess yawns, exhaustion from her ordeal creating half-moons under her eyes. I want to cradle her in my arms and protect her from the world. Protect her from all her past demons.
“I’m ready for a hot shower and then bed,” she says, turning to the stairs.
“I’ll take the dogs outside to do their business. I’ll be quick.” I don’t want to leave Jess alone longer than necessary. She nods, the movement slow and barely perceptible. I watch her tread upstairs.
Once the dogs are finished, I head to the bathroom. The shower is running in the master bathroom, water raining against the tiles. That’s not the only sound coming from there. The gut-wrenching sobs are barely heard over the water, but they’re still hard to miss.
I push open the bathroom door and step into the steamy room. Jess’s clothes lie in a pile on the floor, her sobs coming from the other side of the fogged-up glass door.
I swiftly strip and pull open the door. Jess is standing under the spray, water sluicing over her hair and down her body, her face tucked in her hands. The water is obviously hot, but she’s still shaking.
I step inside the shower and close the glass door behind me. Careful not to scare her, I put my hand on her shoulder. She doesn’t startle but turns and steps into my embrace.
Her forehead rests on my shoulder and she keeps sobbing. I kiss the top of her head, sharing my love with her. One hand slides to the curve of her spine. The other arm holds her close.
I don’t feed her fake platitudes. I don’t know if everything will be all right. And Jess knows better than to accept false hope. So, I just hold her.
She eventually turns her face up to mine. Christ, even with all the bruises that motherfucker left on her face, she’s still so beautiful. My lips briefly meet hers again—and I fall in love with her even deeper than before.
“I love you.” The words slip from my mouth, unexpected, confident, faithful. Jess’s eyes widen, so many conflicting emotions swimming in them. But I don’t want to pull the words back, yank the wisps of them from the air, hide them until she’s ready to hear them. Besides, it’s too late for that. I can’t turn back time. Nor do I want to. I want her to know I’m here for her.
Always will be.
“Don’t worry if you don’t feel the same way,” I say, knowing I can’t ask that of her. Not after what she’s suffered at the hands of her husband. “I just needed to tell you I love you, no matter what.” No matter how many other secrets she’s still keeping from me.
