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I towel off quickly, pulling on a pair of sweats. My feet carry me to her room before I even realize where I’m going, and I pause outside, hand raised to knock.
What the hell am I going to say? Sorry for fucking you senseless on the couch? Sorry for making you come so hard you forgot your own name?
Sorry for being so damn in love with you that I can’t think straight?
I lower my hand, resting my forehead against the cool wood. This is a mess. I’m a mess.
First, the sewing course, now this.
A scream pierces the silence, and I jerk back. Lil. I glance at my watch. 2 AM. Like clockwork.
I ease her door open, slipping inside. She’s thrashing on the bed, whimpers escaping her lips. It kills me to see her like this, trapped in the nightmare that haunts her every night.
Gently, I take her hand in mine, my fingers tracing soothing circles on her palm. I brush the hair back from her face, my touch feather-light. It’s a ritual I’ve perfected during college.
Since she moved in, she almost caught me one time, but I was quick enough, sitting down in the living room, saying I couldn’t sleep.
Slowly, so slowly, her breathing evens out, the tension leaving her body. She sighs, a soft sound that tugs at my heart.
Her eyelids flutter, and I hold my breath, waiting. Waiting for her to tell me to get the fuck out. But she doesn’t. She sighs again, a contented little sound. And then, so quietly I almost miss it, she murmurs, “Sebastian.”
I place a kiss on her forehead and leave the room, already calling Connor.
He picks up. “What’s up?”
“Did you find anything?”
A considering silence follows before he says, “I may have a lead.”
“Go on.” My pulse kicks up a notch.
“It’s not certain yet,” he says. “But I need you to check some things at your office. I need documents.”
“What kind of documents?”
“I’ll message you the details.”
“Okay. You’ll get anything you need.”
I look back to her door.
I’ll show her. I’ll prove to her that what we have is more than just physical. That I see her, all of her, and I want her by my side in every way that matters.
Chapter 34
Lilian
“Don’t hurt him.” Without thinking, I rush forward, placing myself between them. “Leave him alone!”
Hide.
My father’s eyes blaze with fury. “You ungrateful little brat.”
In seconds, his hand is around my throat, squeezing. I gasp for air, clawing at his fingers. The boy behind me screams, and I want to tell him to run, but I can’t breathe.
I can’t move.
Spots dance before my eyes as the pressure builds.