Page 59 of Before Eve

West gets up and comes back with a roll of toilet paper. I blow my nose while he studies me, but there’s something off, and I can’t quite peg it. Something that’s not about the nightmare and the crying jag I just had. There’s something else.

“What?” I cautiously ask.

Silently, he reaches around and slides his hand up under my shirt. I want to jerk away, but I can’t. I’m frozen.No. What is he doing? His fingers trace a few of my scars, and all the air backs up in my lungs.

“How did you get these?”

My brain whirls in panic. How does he know they’re there? Did he see them when I was thrashing around? Did he feel them when he was comforting me just now?How?

His brows furrow in disbelief, in pain, in horror at what he’s realizing. “Eve?”

His expression, his fingers still on my back—they both rip through me in terror. I’m not ready for him to know about that. I’m not ready. I jerk back, and his hand falls to the mattress.

West reaches for me. “Eve.”

“Just…” I scramble back. “Just leave me alone.”

He lifts his hands. “Tell me what happened. Who did that to you?”

“Go.” I shake my head. “Please.”

West doesn’t move and instead just looks at me.

“Please,” my voice cracks.

“Eve—”

“Go!”

With a heavy sigh, he gets up and walks to the door. I both want him to stay and need him to go. At the door, he pauses like he might say something and instead walks right on out.

It’s what I wanted him to do. At least that’s what I tell myself.

CHAPTER 30

I stayup the rest of the night, my brain spiraling with the whole thing—me, him, this, us. I can’t help but wonder if he’s trying to figure out how to get out of this thing with me. It would be for the best, I guess, calling it quits. Not even I can handle my own baggage. How can I expect someone else to? Plus, I’m not even who I say I am.

Finally, at five, I get up. I just want to get out of here and back on the road. To Anne and our hotel room. To my solitary life and the safety that existed before I let West in.

“You’re up,” he says, walking right in my open door.

“Do you mind if we go?”

“And not say bye to my family? That’s rude.”

It is rude, but I just don’t think I can face them.

He heaves a sigh. “Fine, whatever. But I’m going to at least wake up my Gramma and say bye.”

Grayson no longer has power over you. This is what I remind myself as I channel strength and independence—the two things I need to get back on track. But even as I channel those two things, I’m kidding myself. He does have power over me and probably always will.

I climb into the passenger side of our rental car, and we head south back to Orlando.

“Do you want to talk?” West asks.

“No.”

This answer does not sit well with him, but he turns on some music, slides sunglasses into place, and lets me be.