Page 18 of Protected from Malice (Blade and Arrow Shadow Team #1)

RAFE

Is she crying in there?

I can’t hear anything, but would I really be able to?

Would I be able to hear Eden’s soft sobs while I’m sitting at the dining table, fifteen feet and a closed door away from her?

Knowing Eden, she would do her best to hide it.

I can practically see her, curled up on the bed, hugging a pillow as she tries to stifle her cries. Her shoulders are shaking, and she has a few damp curls stuck to her face. Maybe she tries to search for a tissue, but there aren’t any around.

Are there tissues in the bedroom? Is there water? Is she cold? Does she need a soft blanket to cuddle into to help chase away the chill?

Does she need me ?

It’s been almost an hour and a half since Eden and Indy disappeared into the bedroom to hold a conversation two years in the making.

Almost an hour and a half since Eden walked in there looking like she was seconds from walking the plank. And Indy—the man who never showed his fear even in the most dangerous of situations—looked scared. Like he knew his life was about to change again, and it wasn’t for the better.

I wish I could have been in there with her.

I wish I could have held her hand.

I wish?—

But it wasn’t my place.

Still.

I know Eden’s hurting, and it kills me that I can’t make it better.

I could try. I could knock on the bedroom door and ask her if she’s up for watching more of that silly documentary. If she wants to eat something. Work on one of her ridiculously hard puzzles that I couldn’t solve on my own if my life depended on it.

I could give her a hug.

Shit. If it were up to me, I’d hold her for hours.

But I told myself to give her time.

Indy left the bedroom exactly thirty-two minutes ago, pale and pink-eyed and silent.

His body was vibrating with barely-restrained anger and his features were pinched with guilt.

He wouldn’t look at any of us as he stormed across the living room, pausing briefly at the door before muttering that he was headed to the gym.

I understood.

Sometimes the emotions are so big, so painful, the only way to deal with them is to find a different kind of hurt. The hurt that comes with muscles screaming from exertion and your body stretched to its limit. When your brain blessedly shuts off and your body takes over.

I know because I’ve been there myself.

It wasn’t that Indy was deserting Eden. He was going someplace to deal with his pain so he could come back better equipped to help Eden deal with hers.

As Indy’s best friend, I should have been the first to go after him. I should have joined him in the hotel gym and helped him work through it. Sparred with him. Spotted him. Just run silently on the treadmill beside him, offering my wordless support.

But I couldn’t leave Eden.

I can’t.

Not when I promised she wouldn’t be alone again.

No, she wouldn’t have technically been alone. Not with Tyler, Webb, and Ace still here. But she doesn’t know them; not like she knows me. She wouldn’t ask them for something to eat. She wouldn’t ask them to watch TV with her. She wouldn’t ask Ace, or Tyler, or Webb for a hug?—

Fuck. I hope she wouldn’t.

Of course, she has the right to ask them for anything. And if it helped her, I’d have to be okay with it. Making sure Eden’s okay is more important than anything.

But dammit, I want her to come to me .

It’s stupid, really. After all the years of sternly reminding myself that no matter how I felt about Eden, it could never go anywhere, here I am wanting more.

Wanting her to open the bedroom door and ask me to come in.

Wanting her to be mine to comfort.

But conflicted feelings aside, I knew one thing for certain. I wasn’t leaving. After a minute or so of awkward silence, Ace jumped up and offered to join Indy in the gym. Ace, who comes across as this easygoing guy but sees more than he’d like you to know.

I think Ace knew why I wanted to stay. Not in anything he said, but in the look he gave me.

But in the thirty-two—no, thirty-three minutes, now—it’s not like I’ve done anything to help Eden. I sure as fuck haven’t gotten any work done, unless staring at my laptop screen until the words blur together is considered doing something productive.

The room has been eerily quiet since Indy and Ace left, which makes me feel even more unsettled.

Tyler’s typing away like crazy, the soft sound of keys clacking taking the place of conversation.

Webb’s already started looking at the hotel blueprints, searching for possible security holes and jotting them down on a hotel notepad whenever he finds one.

Me? I’m the useless one.

I’m the one who can’t stop stealing glances at the bedroom door.

Reminding myself she might want more time alone.

That she’s a grown adult who’s perfectly capable of taking care of herself.

Or.

Eden might be in there, wishing I’d come in.

Shit. What if she’s crying and she doesn’t want the other guys to see her, and that’s why she hasn’t come out to ask?

And why am I sitting here not doing something about it?

Screw patience.

If Eden needs me, I’m not waiting anymore. And if it turns out she does want to be alone, at least I’ll know.

Just as I’m pushing up from my chair, Tyler says, “Okay. I’ve got us set up with adjoining suites. Still on the fifth floor, but in the east wing. Once Indy and Ace get back, I’m thinking we can head there to get security set up.”

“Nice,” Webb replies. “I can order some groceries, too. Since we’ll be here for a while, it might be good to have something other than fast food and room service.” He glances at me with a hopeful look. “And speaking of food, I thought I smelled bacon when we got here. Do you have any left?”

“In the fridge.” I angle my chin towards the kitchenette. “Help yourself.”

Then I hurry towards the bedroom, trying my best to ignore the heat of two pairs of curious eyes following me.

“I’m checking on Eden,” I explain just before I reach the bedroom door.

No shit. Obviously, I’m checking on her. It’s not like I’m over here to check on the integrity of the door.

Before either of them can respond, I give three quick knocks, then call out softly, “Eden. How are you doing in there?”

A few seconds pass with no response.

My gut twists.

Worry bands around my chest, tightening by the second.

What if I waited too long?

What if she’s in worse shape than I thought?

What if she’s in the middle of a full-blown panic attack and she can’t answer the door?

And when did I become this paranoid person, catastrophizing everything?

Strike that.

Not everything . Just when it comes to Eden.

But thank fuck, the door opens before I start inspecting the lock to figure out which lock-picking tools I need to get in.

“Rafe.” Eden looks up at me, her eyes dry but definitely pink around the edges. I can see the faint tracks of dried tears on her cheeks, and she looks so sad and vulnerable it’s all I can do not to pull her into my arms right now.

She was crying.

And I wasn’t there to comfort her.

Fuck.

I step inside the room and pull the door shut behind me. “I thought you might want some time alone. But?—”

What? I was too impatient? Too worried? Too wrapped up in my thoughts of Eden to concentrate on anything else?

She lifts her chin. “I guess I needed a little time to myself. To… I don’t know. Let it all sink in.”

“Do you want me to leave?” My voice comes out gruffer than I wanted.

“Do you want to leave?” A beat later, her lips curve into a small, sheepish smile. “That was a stupid question. Why would you have knocked, otherwise? Unless you felt obligated?—”

“Shit, Eden. How could you think—” I brush my thumb across her cheek. “I would never feel obligated. I’ve been sitting out there, worrying, hoping you’re okay…”

Her eyes meet mine, brightening with something that looks an awful lot like hope. “You were worried about me?”

“Of course I was.” I know I should pull my hand away from her face, but I can’t seem to make myself do it. Instead, I keep stroking her satiny soft skin. Memorizing the feel of it. Wondering if the rest of her body feels as soft.

Part of my brain—the irritating, logical part—tells me to stop what I’m doing.

Stop touching her.

Stop thinking about anything besides friendship.

Then Eden moves closer to me. Her hand comes to my arm. She’s so close I can smell the lemony fragrance of her hair and that special sweetness that’s only hers. Her pulse jumps at her throat. In a soft, hesitant tone, she asks, “Is it bad that I’m glad you worry about me?”

My heart jumps.

“No.” It’s rough. Strained. “It’s not bad.”

As we stare at each other, time seems to stand still.

“I’m okay,” she finally says. “Or as okay as I can be, considering.” Stepping back from me, she takes my hand and pulls me over to the bed. Once she sits, she pats the mattress beside her and looks up at me expectantly.

As if I need more invitation than that?

“It sucked,” she continues once I’m seated. She edges closer so our legs are touching. “I won’t pretend it didn’t. I haven’t seen Indy look that upset since—” A small sigh escapes. “Not since he woke up in the hospital and found out about his arm.”

“Eden.”

“Hurting him like that… it was awful.” She turns to me with moisture shining in her eyes. “Like I punched him in the gut. And the sound he made…”

“ You didn’t hurt him,” I insist. “None of this is your fault.”

“I know. Rationally, I know. But still. I can’t help feeling guilty. Poor Indy’s been through so much. And now this.”

“Eden.” I take both her hands in mine. “I know you want to protect Indy. And you have. You’ve been there for him in a hundred different ways.

Taking weeks off to be with him in Germany.

Then again in DC. All those fundraisers you organized on your own.

And I know you’ve flown out to visit him nearly every month since then. ”

“He’s my brother, Rafe.”

“He is. And you’re an incredible sister. But maybe it’s time for you to let him protect you.”

Her teeth dig into her lower lip. “Does that mean you don’t want?—”