Page 131 of Cruel Pleasures

For the moment, we focus our attention on looking after Imani. Once inside her room, Archer concentrates on unhooking the clasps on her corset. I move into the bathroom to run a hot bath. Archer steers her toward the tub to no objection from her.

She’s still out of it. Her lids hang low and her expression’s sullen.

I take her hand and help her step over the side of the tub.

It would be remiss to pretend it’s not a strange dynamic we’re developing. Two men caring for one woman. Both of us are eager in our own way to provide what she needs. Somehow, we’ve synced into a seamless team effort.

I help her get settled in the clawfoot tub. Archer tests the water running out of the faucet and then reaches for the jar of bath salts resting on a ledge overhead.

A small, elated breath leaves Imani the second her skin touches the warm water. She closes her eyes altogether and settles against the back of the tub.

I’ve grabbed a loofah and dunked it in the sudsy water. “Tell us if it’s too much.”

Still incapable of words, she hums in answer.

Archer sits on the edge of the other side of the tub. The intent way he stares at her makes me question myself.

Do I stare at her the same? Do I look as enthralled as he seems right now?

Archer Hurst, unpredictable and chaotic serial killer, looks clearly taken with the woman bathing in the tub. Concern lines his brow and the tension in his jaw reveals he’ll do anything to cure any ailment of hers.

I return my attention to Imani and run the loofah along her shoulders. A fluttering sensation has emerged, sitting low in my stomach, that’s vaguely like nerves.

But I don’t get nervous. I don’t experience most emotions people experience.

“I’ll leave you to finish bathing her,” Archer says suddenly. He stands up with his hands in his pockets. “I’m covered in gunk too. I need to rinse this off. After I find mother’s body and get rid of it.”

The door clicks shut a second later.

The silence that remains in his wake grows louder.

More unavoidably noticeable in how Imani soaks in the tub and I kneel beside it caring for her.

Her head lolls onto her right shoulder and her eyelids blink open. She’s dozed off. “Where did Archer go?”

“He went to clean up. He left me to look after you.”

She hums thoughtfully, her earnest brown gaze stuck on me. “Thanks for stepping in tonight. For being there when I needed you.”

“You were being unfairly targeted.”

“No,” she murmurs, reaching for my hand. It’s the hand with the loofah, causing it to sink back into the water. Her pruned fingers intertwine between mine, our palms aligned. “It was more than that. You were there for me because you wanted to be.”

She speaks the truth at me, though it’s an uncomfortable one. Tension cords through me, leaving me stiff.

“The water’s getting cold. I’ll get you a towel,” I say. I force my hand out of hers and rise up to find a clean bath towel.

Imani lets me wrap her up in the absorbent fabric, though her curiosity speaks for itself. She’s wondering if I’ll address what she’s said. It sets me on edge as I escort her into her bedroom and then find a nightgown for her to sleep in.

“Sleep with me,” she whispers finally. “Please… stay. Just for tonight.”

She doesn’t want to be alone. Not after everything that’s transpired.

Can I in good conscience leave her like this? When she’s practically bursting with emotion from all she’s experienced in the last few hours?

I give a rigid nod. “I’ll sit in the chair and wait ’til you’ve gone to sleep.”

“In bed with me.”