Page 82 of Surviving Slater

I had only one destination in mind.

Outside, it was overcast and as I walked, breathing hard, it began to drizzle. I walked faster as it began to rain harder, not feeling the water, or the cold.

Chapter Twenty

It was onlywhen I found myself outside the door marked "12" that I questioned whether it was a good idea. Someone who had made it clear they couldn't handle the emotional baggage I carried wasn't going to be the best person to witness my breakdown, but I didn't have a choice. I had nowhere else to go. I wanted to keep any whisper of my issues far away from anyone else I knew, for fear it would find its way back to the family I was protecting.

Drenched, shivering and cold, I knocked on the door. There was a rustle and then the door opened.

"What the hell?" he muttered before dragging me inside and closing the door. The warmth of the room surrounded me but didn't ease the coldness inside of me.

"I…" I began to say but stopped because I was shaking so hard. My teeth were chattering together.

His warm hands on my arms made me shiver more. Then he turned and walked away.

The action hit me straight in the chest, like a rejection yet again, and I began to tear up before he returned with a towel. He helped me out of my jacket before he wrapped me in the fluffy cloth.

"What happened?" he asked. His eyes were filled with concern. "Are you okay?"

His eyes scanned me as water dripped off my face. I had lost count of how many people had asked me that same question today. And every time I had replied with the same practiced answer—saying yes and fixing a smile to my face to assure them it was true.

But this time I didn't. I began to tear up again as I finally admitted the truth. "No, I'm not." I shook my head gently.

There was a moment when he studied me before he put his arms around me and hugged me. I let go and allowed myself to cry…for everything I had lost and endured.

He didn't say a word or question me while he held me, and I stayed in his arms until the tears eased and I felt emotionally raw.

"Let's get you in the shower and warmed up," he said, and I let him take control.

He led me to the bathroom and helped me sit down on the toilet before he turned his attention to the shower and adjusting the water temperature.

"I'll get you some clothes," he said before leaving me. I didn't have the strength to get undressed and into the shower. Instead, I sat staring at the white clinical tiles.

He returned a minute later with some folded clothes. "They might not fit but they'll have to do." He put them down on the counter.

"Do you need me to help?" he asked when he realized I hadn't moved.

I looked up at him and nodded. It wasn't like me to ask for help but this time I needed it.

He pulled me to my feet and I allowed the wet towel to drop to the floor. He peeled my wet shirt from my skin and helped me out of the black skirt I had borrowed from my mother.

His eyes met mine briefly before he helped unclasp my bra. There was no embarrassment; he had seen it all before. It dropped to the floor.

He bent down as he slid my underwear down, and I lifted one foot and then the other. The briefest of touches warmed my skin.

"Thank you."

He stood up. "You're welcome." His eyes met mine.

I turned to face the shower and got in. The water felt great as it warmed me from the outside. Water streamed through my hair, down my face.

After my skin temperature warmed, I washed myself, including my hair, needing to remove the remains of the day from my body. Once I was done I got out and there was a new, dry towel waiting for me.

I dried myself before I reached for the clothes Slater had left for me. I pulled on the oversized shirt that smelled just like him. I breathed the fabric in, holding on to the smell of him. It warmed me inside. I slid into the sweatpants, which I had to tie in the front to stop them from sliding down my hips. Slater was much taller than I was so I had to roll the bottoms up too.

I found a motel hairdryer in a drawer and used it to dry my hair. I looked awful as I looked at my reflection in the mirror. There was no brightness in my eyes, only dark marks signifying my lack of sleep.

Slater was seated in a chair when I entered the room.