Page 89 of Ghost

Dipping his head beneath the spray, he washed away the thoughts that’d drag him back in time.Not right now.All he wanted to do was rid his skin of the scent of death and lose himself in Mila for a few hours.

His balls ached at the thought of having her in the shower.He cranked off the tap and reached for his towel from the rack.

He rubbed the fluffy terry cloth over his face and head then stepped out, wrapping the material around his waist.No sounds came through the door from his adjoining bedroom, but he hoped like hell Mila was waiting for him.

He strode to the bathroom door and popped it open.His gaze immediately found Mila sitting on the bed, her legs tucked under her hip and her gaze on her phone.

She smiled, looking up from her device.“Hi.”

Her hair hung in loose waves, and her eyes were bright and hesitant.Noting her flannel pajamas, he couldn’t help but kick himself for not buying her something a little sexier.

“You’re still awake.”He went to the dresser tucked against the wall between the bed and the bathroom.

She stood and stretched, pacing to the window.“I’m not really tired, surprisingly.”

His senses heightened at the tone of her voice—almost sad.He delved into his drawer and pulled out a pair of gray boxer briefs.Dropping his towel, he stepped into them and then went to her.

She didn’t look up when he approached.Her stare was fixed on the glass, her eyes loaded with more thoughts than there were bullets in his SIG.

He caught her chin between his thumb and his forefinger.She furrowed her brow.

“What’s wrong?”

She blinked.“I guess I’m still buzzing with energy.I was worried while you were gone, anxious about Irinia and all the change coming my way.It’s a lot.”

“You upset about the attack at your apartment?”

She shook her head, but his hold on her chin didn’t allow for much movement.

Christ, he’d been insensitive.Dropping her off with Dana right after someone tried to kill her.“I’m an asshole,” he breathed.

“What do you mean?”

“I shouldn’t have left you with Dana like that.The guys could’ve handled Hunter without me just fine.”

“No, that’s not it.”

Pressure built in his chest.He let his fingers slide down the smooth, delicate column of her neck.To think someone could’ve hurt her was unbearable.

He tucked her hair behind her ear.Fuck, he hated what she’d been through.That he couldn’t rewind and protect her.He hadn’t protected Evie, either.That reminder hit him in the gut, stealing his ability to come up with anything comforting to say.

“Can you tell me something?”she asked.

“Hmm.”

“How do you move on?I don’t know how I’ll find forgiveness or let go of the missing pieces of my life—what was taken from me.”She sniffed, and moisture dotted the corners of her eyes.“Then I think about Evie and I hate myself for not being grateful I’m still here.She wasn’t given that choice and I have been.”

He threaded his hand through her hair, pissed that Evie’s story was taking away from Mila’s trauma.“You can’t compare yourself to Evie and we can’t help her now.But you’ve got a chance to move on and I want you to fuckinglive.”

Tears dropped on her cheeks.She nodded.

“As for moving on, I don’t think people truly forgive others.Anyone who tells you they have after going through something like we did is full of shit.You just gotta go through the motions.”

She frowned.“Don’t you want to be happy one day?”

He shrugged.“Sometimes I am.At least the closest thing to what I imagine happiness to be.”

Mila leaned in and rested her cheek against his chest.