The water was turned on after Cade dragged me through the open door, and I stood in the middle of my small, tiled bathroom, staring down at the marks on my wrists with flakes of dried blood still covering parts of them. They were red and had a couple of thin slices, but they weren’t nearly as deep as the cut on my hand from my knife. My heart went into triple speed, my stomach falling to the floor.
“My knife,” I croaked out, suddenly feeling overly emotional and stupid. It’s just a knife. “I dropped it after I stabbed him. Did you find it? Did he take it? I was too afraid to bend down to grab it. Once he let me go, I took off.”
Cade’s hands fell to my arms, and his eyes bounced back and forth between mine with panic slowly filling them. “Breathe, baby. Take a breath.”
Oxygen dove into my lungs, and I pushed it out quickly, feeling myself shake like I was standing outside in the snowstorm instead of inside my bathroom with steam slowly filling the small area. “I got your knife, but let’s just get in the shower and take some breaths, okay? I need you to calm down.”
Everything suddenly grew hot, and I felt something warm sliding down my cheeks. Cade’s fingers fumbled with the bottom of my shirt, and he pulled it up and over my head, being careful with my injured wrists and hand. My chest rocked as I suppressed a sob, and I hated that I was crying because I couldn't seem to stop myself.
“I don’t know why I’m crying. It’s not like it’s the first time someone has attacked me,” I finally said as he began pulling my jeans down my legs. I stood in nothing but my underwear and bra when he finally glanced back at my face. His steely expression had been replaced with something painful, a small crease in between his eyebrows with a single, sandy-colored piece of hair hanging in his eyes.
“You’re in shock,” he whispered, like he didn’t want to explain my behavior. He unclipped the back of my bra and pulled my straps down my arms before dropping the small garment to the floor. I turned my gaze away, frustrated that the tears wouldn’t stop falling and that everything was suddenly exploding. It was like standing in the middle of a highway with headlights headed straight for me.
Sister Mary.
The police.
The threats.
I felt lost. I was drowning and had no idea how to reach the top.
“What am I supposed to do?” I choked out, placing my shaking hands over my eyes. Stop crying! I hardly ever cried. I had stopped that long ago when I had been passed over too many times at the orphanage. Crying didn’t make things better. In fact, it made them worse. But here I was, unable to stop.
Cade pulled me into the shower next, and I was thankful because at least the tears would blend in with the water. I may have had a tight burning knot stuck in the back of my throat, but at least I was the only one aware of it. I breathed in choppy, painful breaths, turning my back to Cade as the water pelted me from above.
“Nothing that I can’t do for you,” he said, turning me around to face him. I opened my eyes, tipping my head back and letting the water run over my long hair. My eyes dropped, and I realized that Cade’s strong chest was on display, his tanned body covered in tiny droplets from the water, cascading down to the floor. “I want you to feel this,” he said, cupping my wrist right above the sore part and placing my palm on his wet chest. The thumping was palpable and undeniably persistent against my hand. His heart was beating so hard I felt it all over. I snapped my watery gaze to his, and what I saw rendered me speechless. His eyes were red-rimmed and locked intensely onto mine. “Do you feel that?”
I nodded hesitantly, too much in a trance to say anything. There was a tugging on my heart, nearly causing me to bow at his feet. I am his. He didn’t have to ask me, or tell me, or persuade me that I could trust him. My body told me exactly what I needed to know. My intuitions were spot on.
“This is what happens to me when I think about someone hurting you.”
My stomach tensed when he cast his dark gaze to my right shoulder, where I had bumped into the stone casing on my way to him. His jaw tensed, and the beating against my hand grew harder as he looked at my other arm, near my elbow. The pain was there, too, but hardly noticeable with him surveying all my marks.
“My dad raised me to kill,” he whispered, stepping in a little closer to me. The water ran over both of us, warming our already heated bodies. “And it made me sick to think that I would have to follow in his footsteps one day. That was why I always kept you hidden. I was afraid that someone, anyone, from my real life would see you and hurt you to get to me. Maybe not right away, but in the future…that would have happened. It still could.” His gulp was loud, even with the whooshing sound of the shower. “It happened to Isaiah’s mom.” Cade’s bare leg went in between my legs, and the front of our bodies were almost touching. “I guess I can’t really blame my mother for disappearing on me, right? Except, I do. It hurts.”
I swear I just felt his heart skip a beat.
My chin tipped, and his lowered. His next words brushed over me softly. “I never thought I’d need anyone like I need you.”
I crashed and fell right there in front of him. My legs buckled, and Cade’s strong arms wrapped around my bare back, colliding our bodies together in a sinful embrace. We couldn't have gotten closer if we tried.
“Don’t you dare disappear on me again, Journey. Because I won’t fucking make it if you do, and before you came back, I would have never admitted that to anyone.”
My lip wobbled, but this time, I didn’t try to hide my vulnerabilities or pretend that I didn’t want him to want me in the way that I had craved my entire life. I could survive on my own. I’d done it before. But I knew now that admitting I didn’t want to be alone didn’t make me weak. It made me human. “I promise not to disappear if you promise not to abandon me.”
Before he backed me up against the slick, steamy tiles and grabbed my waist, he whispered against my lips, “Never.”