“You okay?” Isaia touches my shoulder, and I jolt, water splashing on my shirt.
“Shit. Yeah. I’m just…” I wipe my forehead with my arm. “I’m just on edge. Um…I thought you left?”
“I did. But I had to come back and see if you were okay.”
I suck my bottom lip, unsure if I want him here or not. I’m a ticking time bomb right now, and I could burst into tears and collapse into a heap of misery at any moment. The last thing I want is to have anyone around to witness my breakdown.
“Did he hurt you?” Isaia’s voice is soft, almost like he’s afraid of the answer.
I shake my head. “No. Not physically, anyway.” I reach up and touch his chin, studying his cuts and wounds, but Isaia leans away from my touch, grimacing.
“Sit,” I order, indicating the edge of the tub, grabbing a hand towel. “Let me clean that.”
“You don’t have—”
“Sit down, Isaia.”
His mouth pulls in a straight line as he hesitates, but then walks over to the tub and sits down, leaning with his elbows on his knees, clutching his fists together. “Shit went too far today.”
“It did, but it’s done now. We can’t change it.” I wet the towel then place it against the side of his face, lightly patting at the crusted blood.
“I’m sorry.” He doesn’t look at me. “For, um…for the part I played in all of it.”
An image of him standing there while Alexius fucked me flashes in my head. He was hard as his body responded to the scene in front of him, his eyes dark with lust as he watched. The look on his face was that of dangerous desire and filthy intentions. Just like me, he lost himself in the moment of carnal sin, no matter how fucked up it was.
“It’s okay,” I breathe out. “Don’t apologize. We were all kind of…out of it. High on adrenaline and endorphins and all that shit.”
He’s still not looking at me, keeping his eyes downcast. “I have to ask, and I need you to be honest with me.”
I lean back.
“Did he do…” He clears his throat and shifts, running his palms down his jean-clad thighs. “Did he do anything to you that you didn’t want him to?”
There’s a sharp stab in my gut, and I swallow hard. “Are you asking me if he raped me?”
“Jesus,” he mutters under his breath, rolling his head back, letting out a low groan like the thought pains him.
“No, Isaia. He didn’t.” It’s the truth. “And I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t have just stood there if he did.”
“God, this is so fucked up.”
“I’m serious.” I start wiping along his jaw. “I know you. I know that if you doubted it for a second, you would have stopped him.”
Isaia grabs my hand, stilling it next to his face. There’s a heavy silence between us. So many unspoken words. But everything that needs to be said is heard in the quiet.
I squeeze his hand, ease my palm out of his grip, and continue cleaning his face.
“You’re pregnant,” he says, and I pause for a moment, holding my breath before nodding.
“Yes.”
“You and Alexius are having a baby.”
“Babies.”
His gaze cuts to mine, his brows snapped together. “Twins?”
“Hmm-hmm.”