Turning her head, she looks at me, her beautiful face sad and tortured. “I just need a shower.”
Helping her up to my room, which has its own en suite, I walk to the shower to turn it on while she sits on the closed toilet. I grab fresh towels for her, along with a pair of my sweatpants and a T-shirt.
“Do you need anything else?” I ask before I leave her to shower, knowing that I probably should have made her go to the hospital.
Looking up at me with those blue eyes that hold me hostage, she kills me with her next words. “Don’t leave me.”
Collapsing in front of her, I cup her face, pressing my lips to her forehead. “I’ll never leave you again,” I whisper.
As steam from the shower surrounds us, she begins to shake in sobs. Picking her up, I carry her into the shower—both of us still in our clothes—and sit her on my lap as I sit on the bench inside. We stay that way, unmoved, while she wails and cries in my arms.
After what could be minutes or hours, her cries slow. Carefully, I pull the pins from her hair one at a time until her hair falls. Setting her on her feet with her back to the spray of water, I run my fingers through it until it’s soaked.
Reaching for the shampoo, I squirt some in my palm before moving my hands back to her wet hair, gently massaging, my fingers rubbing her head in an attempt to calm her. Her eyes fall shut as I continue to wash and rinse her hair.
The smell of my shampoo in her hair is driving me crazy. Leaning forward, I press my nose to her hair before kissing her head again. When I pull back, she opens her eyes and gives me a slight smile that I return.
“I’m going to step out. You finish your shower.” Her eyes go wide at the thought of me leaving her, and my heart cracks. “I’m just going to be on the other side of the glass,” I tell her as I step out.
Peeling my wet clothes off once I’m in the main part of the bathroom, I hurry to put a towel around my middle. “I’m going to grab some clothes real fast. I’ll be back in two seconds, okay?”
“Okay,” she says quietly before I hear her start to cry again.
Quickly, I grab a pair of sweats and a tee of my own to wear. When I step back into the steamy bathroom, I see the clothes she had on in a pile outside the shower. Picking them up, I throw them in the hamper, making note to burn them later.
Looking back at the frosted glass, I see her small frame huddled and pressed against it where she’s sitting on the floor of the shower. I watch as she draws a heart onto the steamed glass before covering it with her palm. Sitting opposite her on the outside, I press my palm against hers on the glass.
“Do you want some tea?” I ask her as we sit there together.
“You’re shit at making tea,” she says, making me laugh, thankful she’s talking, even if it is to give me shit.
“What if I told you I googled how to make a cup of English tea?”
“I think I’d tell you that sounds nice.”
“You okay for a few minutes? I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”
“I’m okay.”
Reluctantly, I stand and go down to the kitchen to make her a cup of tea.
7
Ruby
Standing on shaky legs, I carefully wash my sore body, gritting my teeth when I wash between my legs. The water and soap burn, but I welcome it if it washes away what happened.
Closing my eyes, I try to force the memories away before I turn off the shower. Grabbing the towel that Sonny left for me, I wrap it around myself as I step in front of the mirror, swallowing down my nerves and fears before I look up to see the damage that was done.
My right eye is bloodshot and bruised. I have bruises covering my neck, breasts, hips and thighs. And I know that between my legs is probably just as bruised and abused as the rest of my body looks.
Taking in a stuttered breath, I reach for the clothes Sonny left for me. Bringing them to my nose, I inhale his scent that lingers, loving the safe feeling that wraps around me as I slide them on.
When I walk out into his bedroom, there’s a soft glow from a lamp on his bedside table, the only light source in the room. Carefully, I climb onto his big fluffy bed, inviting the feeling of the soft blankets to envelope me as I crawl under them.
“Please, make yourself at home,” he teases when he walks in to the room carrying a tray.
Setting it down next to me, I look to see a pot of tea with two cups, a small creamer and bowl with sugar cubes and a plate of tea biscuits like my gram sends at Christmas. I tear up again knowing that he had to have ordered these before tonight.
“Did I do it wrong?” he asks, looking at the tray.
Covering his hand with mine, I tell him, “It’s perfect.” He smiles as he pours tea into each of the cups. I add milk and sugar to mine while he only adds sugar to his. Taking a sip, I close my eyes to let the hot liquid coat my sore throat. “Mmm… Thank you.”
“Tink, I’m so—”
“No,” I cut him off. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. We aren’t talking about it anymore. We’re going to have our tea, and then I’m going to sleep in the most comfortable bed I’ve ever been in.”
“It is pretty great.” He smirks. “Since you asked so nicely, I’ll let you have it tonight. I’ll sleep on the sofa.”
“What? No! You sleep here with me.”
“Tink…”
“Will you stop with that? There is enough room for there to be whole house between us in this bed. No sense in you sleeping anywhere else.”
Truth is, I don’t want to be alone. Not in his room, not in his bed, not anywhere.
Setting the tray on the sofa, he climbs in the bed with me, then reaches up and turns off the lamp. Bathed in darkness, I feel my heart begin to beat faster and faster.
“Sonny,” I cry out his name.
“Shhhh… I’m right here,” he says, pulling me to him. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Slowly, I begin to relax in his arms. His fingers run through my hair, and after a while, sleep pulls me under.
I wake up covered in sweat, my throat raw from screaming, my eyes darting in every direction, trying to remember where I am, which is not where my nightmare had just put me.
“I’m here, Tink. I’m here. You’re safe now,” I hear Sonny whisper softly. His calming words wash over me like a blanket of warmth from the cold horror I was just in.
Turning, I curl my body up and press into him. His chest, a mixture of soft and hard, lets me burrow in, feeling safe. I inhale the smell of everything Sonny; earth and spice and a hint of sweetness. Strong arms pull me in closer, and I realize, in this moment, that I’m drawn to him.
Most girls in my position would probably push away the thought of being in the arms of any man right now. And that might be true if it was anyone else but Sonny. No, he’s exactly what I need and want. Strong. Protective. Safe.
“Take it away,” I say quietly, tilting my head up to look at his beautiful face. Strong jaw, chiseled cheekbones, dark lashes lining grey eyes that rage with storms and calm with swirls of clouds.
Reaching up, I run a hand through his dark dirty-blonde hair before letting my palm land on his chest, his heart pounding under my fingertips.