His hand connected with the side of my face, soft and gentle. His rough but smooth palm had a sob working its way up my throat. I couldn’t hold it back, couldn’t push it down, not now that he was here. Not now that I felt safe again.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” His words were choked, his emotions seeping through his voice, but I still couldn’t see him. And I was glad because it meant he couldn’t see me either. The darkness hid everything I didn’t want anyone to see.
“It’s okay,” I whispered, trying to tell him I was all good. It was a lie. A lie I knew he didn’t believe from the way his fingers gripped me that little bit harder.
“It’s not.” His hand left my face and I heard rustling, and then a second later the comforter lifted. “But it will be.” The bed dipped, and I sighed as his arms wrapped around me. “I promise it’ll all be over soon.”
I swallowed, not sure what to say. I needed the images in my head to evaporate. I needed to pretend it didn’t happen. But the ache in my muscles and pain in my heart weren’t listening. They were bleeding, looking for refuge to be fixed. And that was what Asher was. He was the fix to all my pain. He was the only way I could see myself getting out of this darkness and back into the light.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured, pushing my face into his chest. His pounding heart beat in my ear, and the sound settled me. He’d been gone for days, locked up somewhere he never should have been, and it was all because of me. I was the reason he’d been arrested. I was the reason he’d have this on his record for the rest of his life. If I’d never have met him. Never had—
“You have nothing to be sorry for, Elodie.” His fingers pushed through my hair. “You hear me?” He tilted my head back, and I was finally able to make out the shape of his face in the darkness. “Not a single thing.” He moved closer to me, his forehead connecting with mine, and I drew in a deep breath. “What happened was not your fault.” His voice was low, but the roughness told me he was being serious. “This isn’t on you, sweetheart.”
“I know, but—”
“No buts.” He held me tighter, and I winced. I didn’t want him to know I was in physical pain too, not right then. All I wanted was to be in his arms and to feel secure. “We’re gonna get through this together. You and me.”
I sighed and closed my eyes, feeling the tiredness taking over. “You and me,” I repeated.
He placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. “You and me.”
I let my body sink into his. Let him take some of the pain away. Let him just…be there. And it was all I needed in that moment—Asher’s arms wrapped around me, his promises echoing in my brain. He was all I needed.
ASHER
I wasn’t sure how much sleep I’d gotten, but it was more than I’d had over the last few days in county jail. I didn’t have to worry about the other inmates who would walk around the pod. I didn’t have to be on alert because of the weapons they’d bragged about making. All I had to be concerned about was the girl I held in my arms.
At some point, the sun came up and let streams of light into the room, and for the first time since I’d walked into my childhood bedroom, I could see the bruises on her face—purple and green mixed in with her light skin tone—and I winced at the sight of them. I wasn’t sure what I was going to see when I looked at her, but now I was even more apprehensive about what I couldn’t see. I desperately wanted to ask her how she was feeling, but I knew she’d say she was okay. Elodie had a strength about her, one she’d learned over the years. She didn’t want to appear weak, but how was I meant to explain to her that relying on me wasn’t weakness?
There was a strength in admitting when you weren’t okay. A strength in asking for help. But I wasn’t sure she knew that. I wasn’t sure she would be willing to—
“Asher?”
I pulled my lips into a smile and stared down at her as her eyes fluttered open. “Morning.” Her navy-blue eyes spoke of innocence, of freedom, of happin
ess, but it only took seconds for all of it to dim and pain to barge its way through. “Hey.” I placed my hand on the side of her face, frowning at her. “Don’t let it take over.” She knew what I was talking about without me having to explain. She felt it, lived it. I just didn’t want it to consume every part of her.
Her eyes turned glassy, and I wondered how many times she’d cried since that night. How many times she’d let herself go. How many times she’d let herself feel everything. “It’ll always be there,” she choked out. “He will always be there.”
I shook my head and sat up, determined to push my point home. “No. He won’t.” I stared down at her, not willing to look away. “I won’t let him take over.” I pushed some hair off her face, revealing more of the bruising. “It’s what he wants. He wants you to be broken. He wants you to be scared. He wants to control you.”
“You don’t get it.” She huffed out a breath and tried to roll over, but I kept my grasp on her firm. I wouldn’t let her run away from this. I wouldn’t let her escape into her own head.
“No.” I inhaled a breath, trying to keep my anger at bay. It wasn’t her I was angry with, but him. He knew what this would cause. He knew how she would react. He knew his presence would be felt far longer than the few minutes where he’d ripped everything away from her.
“Let go of me,” she ground out. Her gaze connected with mine, fire burning deep within her eyes, and I immediately let go. She needed to know she had a say. She needed to know I wasn’t him. She needed to know she had control of her own mind and body.
“Elodie—”
“No.” She rolled out of the other side of the bed and moved backward until her back hit the wall next to the window. One of my old T-shirts covered her body and came to her knees, but even that didn’t cover the bruises on her shins and scrapes on her knees. “You don’t get to demand how I deal with this.”
“I know—”
“You don’t know!” She threw her hands up in the air, tears streaming down her face. I wanted nothing more than to go to her, to hold her, to tell her it would all be okay, but I wasn’t sure it would be. Would she be able to work through this? Was I the right person to try and help her?
“Sweetheart…” I stood slowly, making sure my movements weren’t too fast to freak her out. Her eyes were focused on me, but I wasn’t sure her attention was. She was somewhere else. Not here. Not with me. She was back there, with him. “Elodie, look at me.”
“I am,” she gritted out as she wrapped her arms around her waist.