I shook my head and finished washing my hands before trying to comb my fingers through my hair to flatten it a bit. But the locks were crusted over with something, blood probably, so I was left looking like I’d stuck my finger into an electrical socket. I left the bathroom and went to the bedroom door.
It wasn’t locked.
And there was no Con on the other side.
The room was the only one at the end of the hallway so there was no place to go but toward the main living space. There was no Con there either. The living room and kitchen were basically one huge room separated by a single counter. There was another hallway on the opposite side, so I began to walk toward that one only to stop when I heard a noise to my right. Con was in the process of coming inside from the balcony. His eyes met mine but whatever emotion might have been there quickly disappeared again.
“Down that hall, first door on the left,” the man said as he motioned in the direction I’d been headed. I fully expected him to join me, but he didn’t. Instead, he went to the entertainment center across from the huge sectional in the living room and stopped in front of a small built-in bar. He poured himself a drink and then turned his back on me and returned to the balcony. Something in the way he held himself made me feel guilty as hell, though I had no idea why.
I waited until he’d closed the balcony door behind him but just as I began moving again, my eyes fell on the far part of the sectional. A blanket was on the floor, like it had hastily been pushed off, and the pillow lying against the armrest matched the ones in Con’s bedroom. My stomach dropped out as I realized what the bedding meant.
Someone had been sleeping on the couch.
My stomach felt heavy as I hurried to the hallway and found the room I was looking for. I dismissed the idea that Con had quite possibly been sleeping on the couch because it didn’t matter if he had. That didn’t mean he hadn’t started off in the bed with me. I’d seen the proof that I hadn’t been alone in that huge bed.
My anxiety raged until I managed to get the door to the guest bedroom open. As soon as I saw Rory’s tiny body sprawled across the middle of the queen-sized bed and Christopher stretched out on a small loveseat, everything in my world seemed to right itself. I shook with relief as I softly closed the door behind me. It took me a moment to get a hold of myself as I took in the peacefulness on both children’s faces as they slumbered. Rory was wearing a huge T-shirt of some kind, but Christopher had his street clothes on. I couldn’t blame him. I would have given anything to have my own clothes. Anything that would act as some kind of barrier between me and this new world I’d been thrust into.
I made my way to Rory’s bed and eased the covers she’d kicked aside back over her small body. She didn’t wake. Christopher was a different story. As soon as I sat down on the couch at his hip, he awoke and struck out with his fists. I managed to stifle a moan of pain as one of his fists connected with my broken arm.
“Hey, hey, it’s me,” I said as I caught his flailing arms as best I could.
Christopher instantly settled and then he was throwing his arms around my neck. “Uncle Micah,” he breathed in relief.
I held him as tight as I could as he began to sob against me. Though I’d had the chance to see him in the hospital, I’d been too out of it to really take in much of anything after I’d told Christopher that everything would be all right. He’d cried then too, and I’d done my best to hold him, but this… this was what I’d needed.
To really hold him.
To really reassure him I would never let anyone hurt him again.
Like Con did for you.
I ignored the voice in my head and focused on soothing Christopher by rubbing my hand up and down his back. When he settled and pulled away, his face was red and splotchy.
“Are you okay?” he asked as he began wiping at his cheeks.
“I’m good,” I lied. “Are you and your sister—”
“We’re okay,” Christopher interjected. “Con, he’s um… he’s been nice. His brother too.”
Christopher’s voice was soft but certain. I let out the breath I’d been holding because I knew that if either man had hurt the children, Christopher would have told me.
“Good,” I said even as I tried to ignore the pricks of guilt that were starting to niggle my brain. Okay, so Con had been good to the kids. That didn’t mean he hadn’t taken advantage of me.