“Let’s go, babygirl,” he whispers in my ear.
“We can’t leave her,” I whisper.
“We didn’t,” he whispers back. “But she’s gone now.”
I’m grateful he’s a take-charge kinda guy right now, because it makes it easier to know what to do next. To walk with him out to the car that waits. To place my head on his chest on the ride home and cry some more. To follow him as he leads us back to his house on the compound, and up the stairs. To walk in a sort of trance to the bed, where he strips me out of the clothes that I wear and tosses the bag of forgotten clothes he fetched on an overstuffed chair.
He leads me to the bathroom and takes my hand in silence, making me take a hot shower. The water feels good and washes away my tears as I cry yet again. I don’t realize he’s joined me until I feel his strong arms around me. I lean on him, and it feels perfect. It feels right.
Though there’s nothing sexual in his touch tonight, it’s deeply, beautifully intimate. He’s concerned and gentle with me, and it’s so damn sweet I let it soothe me. When I’m done showering, he helps me out and towels me off, slinging a towel around his own waist and leading me back to the bedroom.
Then he turns down the bedsheets.
“Hungry, baby?” he asks. I honestly don’t even remember the last time I ate. I nod dumbly but lay my head on the pillow and close my eyes. A short while later, someone knocks on the door. He says something to the person on the other side, takes a tray, then shuts it before he comes to me.
“You awake, baby?”
“Yes, daddy.” My eyes flutter open. I didn’t mean to say that. I feel small and a bit shy now that I have. But it feels nice right now, when I’m hurting and sad, to call him that. And he likes it too. I know he does when he sits on the side of the bed, slides the tray beside me, and bends down to kiss my forehead.
“You’re a good girl, Taara. You know that?” he whispers. He brushes his rough fingers along my cheekbone. “Daddy’s good little girl.”
His praise warms me through. I sit up and take the cup of soup he hands me, as well as some crackers.
“Aren’t you going to eat anything?” I ask him.
He just shakes his head.
“You should eat,” I say, unnaturally focused on how important this is.
“You let me worry about that,” he says, his eyes boring into mine with concern. I sigh, when the memory that I lost my mother today resurfaces. I swipe at my eyes but it’s no use. I’m full on crying again with no help for it. Quietly, he draws me to his chest and holds me while I weep, until I’m completely spent.
“Sleep, baby.”
“I’ll sleep better if you’re next to me,” I confess.
And then he slides into bed behind me, wraps his arms around me from behind, and gathers me into his chest. And I fall asleep like that, tucked into his arms and as safe as can be. I wake several times in the night and remember the sad reality of what happened. I cry again and again. And every time, he holds me until I’m done, then tucks me back in.
I don’t make myself think about tomorrow or what happens next. I lost my mother today. But I found Stefan.Chapter 19StefanThe days after Hesther’s death pass in a blur. It takes a week for us to prepare for the funeral, and Taara opted for cremation. We plan to give her the highest honor burial as one of our own and take care of Taara. Demyan and Larissa even fly out from Moscow, though their purpose is two-fold. Demyan came to convene with me and Tomas regarding where we stand with San Diego and the Russian Thieves. But they arranged their visit so they could be here early enough to be with Taara.
Larissa, Caroline, and Marissa help Taara prepare for the funeral. They get her clothing and shoes and help her dress in black, fix her hair and shoo me out of the way when I check in on her.
Things have gotten worse between me and Taara, but I tell myself it’s because she’s grieving. And because she’s grieving, I need to give her space.
“She’s fine, Stefan,” Caroline says cooly to me. “Now go drink some vodka or something.” And she shuts the door. I stand, bereft for a moment. I don’t know what to do with myself. I earned that, though, and I know it. I have no idea what Taara has told them about us, but it’s clear it wasn’t good.
I should be happy about that, but it makes me want to break a fucking wall.