He turns the water off, escaping as fast as he can to wrap a towel around his waist before helping me out and handing one over to me. I dry off, avoiding the sorest spots on me and the scrape on my shoulder.
He’s dressed and holding out clothes for me when I leave the bathroom, and without a word, he helps me get dressed.
Before I can turn to the bed, he stops me, his eyes dark and worried as his hands cup my cheeks, thumbs swiping at tears I can’t manage to control.
“I hate that this happened to you. I was terrified the entire time.”
I nod, feeling exactly the same way.
He brushes his lips over mine but doesn’t speak again when he pulls back.
He doesn’t ask me to stay or tell me that he feels any kind of way about me. I’m an attorney. I make a living off asking questions and getting to the bottom of situations, making truths come to light, but I can’t open my mouth to ask for any clarification right now.
I don’t think I’d be able to handle the truth. The direction I think that conversation will go terrifies me.
“I think I want to take a nap,” I whisper.
He nods, helping me to the bed and tucking me in, once again being mindful of the injury to my shoulder.
He turns off the light, and I wait for him to crawl in the bed with me, but he doesn’t.
“Your purse and phone are on the bedside table,” he says softly from across the room as if he thinks I could’ve fallen asleep so quickly.
I don’t answer him, and for some reason, he doesn’t leave like I expect him to. The energy in the room is thick, but I can’t make the mistake of presuming it’s care or any other stronger emotion. The man is pissed that I got hurt after he promised it wouldn’t happen. No doubt he blames me for Susan Felding’s actions because I gave her access to hurt me. Had I stayed and waited for him to bring me to work, this wouldn’t have happened.
A long moment passes before the door opens, and he leaves.
I stay in the bed, wishing things were different, but I finally realize I have to do exactly what he expects. I have to get back to normal.
I sit up in the bed and call the woman I was talking to last week about apartments. I know I should feel relief when she tells me a unit is available, and if I’m available this afternoon, I can have keys in hand in a matter of hours.
I don’t feel relief. I feel like I’m being traumatized all over again, but then the reasonable side of me tells me I’m acting ridiculous. I’m a grown woman, and I should be lucky I’ve managed to make it to thirty before getting my heart broken. For most people, it happens in their teens.
“I’ll be there at two,” I assure the woman on the phone before hanging up.
Susan Felding is in custody, and the threats on my life no longer exist.
Getting back to normal is exactly what I plan to do. I just hate that the new normal I was allowing myself to picture before Ethan mentioned getting my own space a couple days before I was abducted looks nothing like it will after today.
Chapter 37
Legend
“I’ve already spoken with the district attorney,” Kincaid says from the front of the room as we work through our debriefing. “He assures me that Susan Felding won’t be released on bail.”
We go over a few more details before the meeting is adjourned. Each person that walks out of the room, clamps a hand on my shoulder, silently telling me that they’re glad things worked out the way they did.
All in all, Faith is okay. The injuries to her body aren’t considered severe, but it’s the injuries to her mind that cause me the most concern. I’ve seen people recover from worse. Mia is a prime example of that. Cara has gone through a lot as well, but each person is different.
From the conference room, I head to the kitchen, throwing together a light snack for Faith. She didn’t eat anything at the hospital, and I didn’t push her about it there, but she’ll feel much better faster if she’s well nourished.
Expecting to find her sleeping, I freeze in the doorway of my room when I open it.
She’s in the process of pulling the clothes she purchased after her house burned down from the closet, freezing on her way to the suitcase on the bed when she notices me standing there.
“What are you doing?” I ask as I step inside and close the door.
She remains silent as I place the plate of food on the dresser the television is on.