Page 21

Chapter 20

Eden’s voice was soft but clear. “There was a false wall in the cargo area of a big truck. It slid forward to form a kind of narrow hallway along one side.” Twin gusts of air feathered across my skin as she exhaled through her nose. “There were five of us. Cara. Nesha. Two girls named Jennifer. And me. They made us get in there and chained us to the wall by our arms and legs. And around our necks.”

She paused for a long moment, and when she spoke again, her voice sounded strangled. “When they closed the false wall, it was only a couple inches from my face. It was so fucking dark.”

Jesus. “Is that what your nightmare was about?”

“Yes.” The word trembled against her lips, turning the single syllable into three, and I lowered my lips to the top of her head.

Eden pressed one palm against my chest, directly over my heart, while we sat in silence for a time. Without even thinking about it, I began rocking from side to side, and her body moved with mine in a slow, steady rhythm.

I had so many questions but forced myself to remain quiet, to let her go at her own pace. When she spoke again, the tips of her fingers curled against my chest.

“We couldn’t even sleep to pass the time,” she said in a trembling voice. “Every time I’d start to doze off, my head would droop forward and the chain around my neck choked me and woke me up.”

Motherfucker. I wanted to wrap her up and hold her tight, but that wasn’t what she needed; it was what I needed. How the hell was she even functioning? What she’d been through was goddamn horrifying, and it wouldn't have improved much if I had handed her over to Luca like I was supposed to.

“How long were you in there?” I asked.

“Hours. I think we were still in Mexico when we left.”

“And they drove you to New Orleans? Jesus, E. That has to be a ten or eleven hour trip, minimum.” I was trying to control the timbre of my voice, but my rage was about to crest and pour over me like an erupting volcano.

“I felt the truck stop a few times, but they never let us out to use the bathroom or anything. It was way over a hundred degrees back there, and one of the Jennifers kept puking, so you can imagine how it smelled.” Her fingers tightened on my bare chest, the nails cutting little half-moons into my flesh.

Now I understood why she liked the windows down in the car and why she needed to have her door slightly ajar. I buried my nose in her hair, smelling her fruity shampoo mixed with the scents of her honey shower gel and a slight whiff of nightmare sweat.

When I felt her tears drip down my chest, I was simultaneously pained and relieved. Pained because she was hurting but relieved that she was letting her emotions out instead of bottling them up. This shit couldn’t be healthy to keep inside.

“I-I finally couldn’t hold it a-anymore,” she said, stuttering and hiccuping her way through the sentence. “I had to pee so bad.”

Motherfucking hell. I could read between the lines as to what came next. “It’s okay, baby. Everyone has to pee. It’s just biology, and you did what you had to do.”

“I felt s-so dirty. And humiliated,” she sobbed, her fingernails cutting deeper into my skin.

“That’s why you take several showers a day,” I stated before I could think better of it, and she nodded. “Would you like to take a shower now? Would that make you feel better?”

She’d barely croaked out a yes before I was standing, cradling her gently in my arms, and striding inside and straight to her bathroom. There was a free-standing shower along one wall, and I set her on her feet beside it before kissing the tip of her nose. I’d given up trying to figure out why I always felt the need to do that.

Taking a much-needed step back, I slid open the shower door and turned on the water to warm. “Get undressed,” I instructed, holding my hand beneath the spray and adjusting the temperature until it was just right.

“You’re… staying in here?” she asked.

I walked to the side wall of the shower and pressed my back against it, consciously looking away from her. “I’ll be right here in case you need me.” She didn’t say anything, so I added, “I’ve been meaning to count the gulls on this seascape.”

My lips curved up when I heard a little laugh escape her, and then they turned down when the sound of rustling clothes reached my ears.

Naked Eden, naked Eden, naked Eden, chanted through my brain before I knocked the words away with a chant that was more appropriate. Hurt Eden, vulnerable Eden, scared Eden.

That did the trick, and as I heard her click the shower door shut, my eyes flicked across the framed painting on the wall across from me. I recognized the burnt orange lighthouse that sat on a reef off Vaca Key, the iron pilings skeletal against the sunset behind it. Or maybe it was a sunrise; I wasn’t sure. But the yellow orb was barely kissing the water, turning it into a blanket of muted colors.

I began counting the seagulls. One. Two. Three. I’d barely gotten to eight when I heard a thunk and then a soft, “Ow!” My hesitation lasted only two beats before I muttered, “Fuck it,” and swung my body around to sling open the glass door. “E, are you okay?”

Her eyes widened when I stepped into the shower, still wearing my black boxer briefs, and one of her arms crossed over her chest. “I-I dropped this on my foot.” She held up a small yellow bottle of face wash. “I was trying to get the lid off, and the bottle slipped.”

My heart rate lowered to something approaching normal. “Sorry, you scared the hell out of me. Is your foot okay?” Don’t look down. Do. Not. Look. Down.

She nodded, her blue eyes locked on mine, which assisted in my efforts to not let my gaze drop. “It’s fine, but do you think you could—” Eden held out the bottle toward me. Taking it from her, I grasped it in one hand and used the other to twist off the lid. “Showoff,” she muttered, giving me a teasing half-smile.

As if she was metal and I was a magnet, I took a step closer to her and pulled the door closed behind me, cocooning us in the steamy enclosure. “May I?” I asked, squirting a dollop of the amber gel onto my fingers.

Her voice was quiet but clear, floating softly between us. “Yes.”

Something roared inside me, like a lion proclaiming his dominion over the animal kingdom. Maybe it made me a prick, but I loved that she needed me, trusted me, even with something as simple as taking care of her in this small way.

My eyes searched her bare face. The bruises had long since healed, but when she was fragile like this, I could practically see them again. Or the ghost of them. Like a phantom reminder of what she’d endured, and it somehow made her even more fucking beautiful.

Reaching for her face with both hands, I massaged the cleanser in tiny circles over her skin, methodically, slowly, starting with her forehead, being cautious near the cute nose piercing, and working my way down to her neck.

With the soft, content smile on her face, I was finding it easier not to look down. I focused instead on the blue tinge of her closed eyelids, tracing each tiny vein with my eyes.

Once I’d lathered her entire face and neck, I carefully rinsed away the suds and reached a hand to the back of her neck, gently tilting her head back to wet her hair.

While I worked the fruity shampoo through her strands, Eden drifted her fingers over the marks she’d left on my chest, a frown wrinkling her brow. “Did I do that?”

“Now you know why I call you Wildcat.”

She leaned forward, pressing a series of kisses across the area, and I had to remind myself to breathe. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, tilting her head up until I got lost in her beautiful face.

“It doesn’t hurt,” I assured her, though perhaps I should have lied and told her the pain was unbearable. Then maybe she would have kissed my chest some more.

Dude, you’re such a fucking prick.

After finishing Eden’s hair with conditioner, I handed her the bottle of body wash. “I think I’ll let you take over the, um, the rest.”

I’d never thought of myself as a saint by any stretch of the imagination, but not looking down at my beautiful wife’s bare body probably qualified me to at least make it through the first round of the application process.

“What are you smiling about?” she asked suspiciously.

I chuckled and stared at a spot high on the shower wall where the caulk was peeling away. “I was just thinking Saint Dane has a pretty nice ring to it.”

She giggled when she got my drift, and I wished I could bottle that sound and carry it around with me so I could take it out and listen to it when I was feeling the darkness. As I stepped out onto the bathmat, the scent of honey and vanilla filled the air, and I was glad I’d gotten out before she started rubbing down her body. I was obsessed with the smell of her body wash.

After drying off, I retreated to my bedroom, stripped off my wet underwear, and donned a pair of lightweight black sleep pants. When I returned to Eden’s room, I heard the hairdryer running and decided to change her sheets, which were damp with her sweat.

She walked out just as I was tucking the top sheet in at the bottom of her bed. Her feet stalled, and she dipped her chin, looking at me from beneath her lashes. “Thank you, Dane. For… everything.”

I pulled back the covers and nodded for her to slide in. “Hop in and try to get some sleep.”

“I need to shut this,” she said, heading toward the glass door leading to the veranda, but I stopped her with a hand on her elbow.

“Leave it. You’ll sleep better with it open.”

Her eyebrows inched together. “But you said I need to keep it locked with the security bar every night.”

“Not if I’m in here,” I informed her, pulling the white wicker chair from the corner and placing it beside the bed. “I promise you’ll be safe.” I gestured once again for her to get in bed as I turned on the lamp on her nightstand.

She finally did, but now her eyebrows were cinched so tightly together they resembled a unibrow. “But you need to sleep.”

“I’ll take a nap tomorrow.”

“So you’re just going to watch me sleep?”

“Yep, just like Dracula would do,” I told her wryly, turning off the overhead light.

Settling my butt onto the purple cushion of the wicker chair, I watched as Eden turned onto her side facing me and snuggled down into her pillow, an amused smile playing over her lips.

“Night, Dracula.”

I chuckled. “Goodnight, Wildcat.”

When she closed her eyes and stretched one hand out toward me, I took it.

And didn’t let go until morning.

A woman wearing a red vest approached me as I wandered into the plumbing section of the hardware store. “Can I help you find anything, sir?”

“Yes, I need some caulk,” I told her, and I was sure I’d never tried so hard to enunciate the L-sound.

“Of course. Right this way.” After I found what I needed, she asked, “Anything else?”

“Where’s your lighting section?”

Forty minutes later, I exited the store into the Florida sunshine with several heavy bags. I hadn’t gotten any sleep last night after Eden’s nightmare, and I was looking forward to getting home and crashing for a few hours.

After putting the bags in the SUV, my gaze snagged on a neon sign in a storefront beside the hardware store. Forgetting about my lack of sleep, I walked across the parking lot toward it, stopping beside the plate glass window and staring inside for several moments.

Mind made up, I smiled to myself, opened the door, and walked inside.