Unease rolls through me when she doesn’t respond to any of that. My head knows it’s perfectly normal for people to have their phones on vibrate or to pause notifications through sleeping hours. But in my gut, I’m not liking her silence. It makes me nervous to think what could be in her head right at this moment, what she could have stewed over all night long by herself. I’d conked out. Kingston and Archer likely gravitated toward each other, especially if Kingston couldn’t sleep. Archer would probably have been awake, anyway. But I can’t imagine Elliot had anything but a sleepless night alone. Welefther. Something claws at my heart in my chest screaming at me to go.Now.
I bolt from the bed, yanking on a pair of boxer briefs, and hurry from my room, not bothering with other clothing. These people have seen it all anyway, and I’d only be wasting time. The first thing I do, on the off chance my intuition is wrong, is tap on her door. Once, then three times in rapid succession. When there’s not a single sound, I haul ass into Kingston’s room, which I’m completely unsurprised to find open and empty.
I dart to his desk and yank open the top drawer, fingers immediately coming into contact with the spare key that Kingston had told both Archer and me was hidden there for emergencies only. I’ll be fucked if I know if this constitutes as an emergency, but I’m not taking any chances.Fuck. What if—Oh god, my brain practically splits in two at the thought that maybe Archer hadn’t found all the things Elliot could use to harm herself. I hate that it’s the first thought in my head, but I simply can’t overlook it.
I unlock the door and burst into her room moments later. She’s not in her bed. My head swings in the direction of the bathroom as I close the door behind me. The shower is running. She could simply be getting showered and dressed or— “Elliot!” I raise my voice loud enough that I think she should be able to hear me as I pound on the bathroom door. I suck in air, then let loose her name again, even louder this time. “Elliot!”
No response.No. Goddammit.I turn the knob, terrified of what I’m going to find on the other side.
The sight that meets my eyes should immediately calm me, because she’s right there. In truth, it only freaks me out worse. Elliot sits naked on the floor of the shower, curled into a ball. The water sprays down on her, and who the fuck knows how long she’s been sitting there because she looks waterlogged and shivers like she’s freezing.
I hurry into the stall with her, cut off the water—which is lukewarm at best—and drop to my knees. My hands move carefully over her, touching the goose bumps covering her flesh as she shakes. “E. Are you hurt?” I whisper.
Her hair is sopping wet, and water clings to her eyelashes when she blinks up at me and shakes her head.
I note the wet bandage on the floor next to her and cup her face, concern flowing swiftly through me. My voice gritty and raw, I rasp, “You’re scaring me.” Glancing down, I’m unable to see the mark on her thigh with the way she’s sitting. It’s been three days, so I have no way of knowing if she’s simply done wearing the bandage or— Fuck, I don’t know.
She doesn’t speak, simply stares at me, lips tightly pressed together with those usually expressive eyes of hers dull with a pain that isn’t physical at all. She’s emotionally spent, and it’s almost as if she’s looking right through me. It’s the strangest role reversal I’ve ever experienced—even worse than the time she refused to speak to me because I wouldn’t say more to her.
Jolting to my feet, I lunge for a couple of towels that are on the rack and bring them into the shower with me. I flip her tangled hair up over her head, but she bats my hands away and finally speaks. “I can do it.”
Unsure what she needs from me, I hand her the second towel, and help her stand. She wraps it around herself, but before she can stop me, I scoop her into my arms.
“Cannon!” She gives an exasperated cry as I carry her into the bedroom. After setting her down, I quickly double back for yet another towel because there’s still water running down her arms and legs.
Upon my return, she gnaws furiously on her lip, so worked up, it pains me to think she’s been like this all night. “Stop, E. Your lip.” She draws in a ragged breath but ceases the abuse of the tender skin. I hand her the towel, watching as she dries off.Thank fuck.From what I can see, the wound on her leg looks to be healing okay. Probably doesn’t even need to be covered anymore, not unless she was wearing a bandage so she didn’t have to look at it. Which, if that’s the reason, more power to her. I fully support whatever she wants when it comes to dealing with the aftermath of Nick’s abuse. “Hair dryer?” I grit out.
Her eyes flick to the bathroom, but I’m left to figure it out on my own. I close my eyes for a brief moment before I start pulling open drawers and cabinets. It’s frustrating, not that I wasn’t already aware of how difficult I’ve made it on people to communicate withmein the past. The irony that she’s deliberately choosing not to speak to me isn’t lost on me. Not at all.
I steady myself, opening the deep drawer at the bottom left of the sink, and find her hair dryer in there, the cord neatly wrapped around the handle. By the time I come back out to the bedroom, Elliot has drawn her legs to her chest and stares off into space.
My heart pounds hard. I want so badly to wrap her in my arms, but I know the wet hair must be uncomfortable, so if I can at least convince her to get it partway dry, that’ll help. I bend over, looking behind her nightstand. Sure enough, there’s an outlet back there, and I plug it in before handing the hair dryer to her. We’re both quiet while she deals with her hair, and once it’s mostly dry, she switches it off, and I take it from her, setting it on the nightstand.
“I—” Her voice is soft when she looks up at me, and she exhales carefully. “I just wanted to release my emotions without you all thinking you needed to care for me. It’s okay to break sometimes, and with everything that happened today, I reached my limit.”
My chest tugs at the thought of her in there crying by herself. “What can I do?”
The hopeful look in her eyes is almost enough to knock me off my feet. “I just need you to hold me, Cannon.” She pulls the damp towel from her body and tosses it to the floor, looking at me expectantly before she turns her back on me and curls up in the middle of the bed.
My boxer briefs are still soaked, so I slip them off before climbing in with her, then pull the covers over both of us. I wrap my body around hers, making physical contact with every part of her I can manage, rubbing my hands over her to generate some heat. She presses her back against my chest. The chill that had been making her shake and shiver dissipates the longer we lie together with my warmth seeping into her.
Fuck.I didn’t get into the bed with any thought in my head except to warm her up and make sure she felt like someone was here for her, but now that we’re pressed so close together that nothing could possibly come between us, I can’t help myself. I’m a man and damned if my dick isn’t swelling where it’s nestled against her sweet ass. I grit my teeth, willing my cock to stand down. A small moan edges its way up from my throat as she subtly shifts in my arms, and I feel like an asshole when my hand lands on her breast, firmly cupping it as I drag in a hit of her scent. But this is who I’ve always been with her. Possessive as fuck.
A moment later, her hand comes up to cover mine. Encouraging me. “Cannon.”
I hear the plea in the way she says my name. Her hips tip backward, and she breathes out. Her pussy is right there. We have so much we need to fucking discuss, but right now…fuck it.I need her. She needs me. And I have to show her that whatever made her feel like she had to sit in the shower all alone like that is absolute bullshit. She has us, no matter what. But maybe she doesn’t realize the stark truth of that yet. “Wish you had come to me, E.”
Her chest jerks, a small sob tearing from her chest. “I thought I’d messed it all up.”
“No.” I scramble at the sound of her anguish, crawling over top of her and rolling her to her back. Taking her head between my hands, I force her to look at me. The pain I see in her dark eyes almost knocks me flat. “Not possible,” I rasp, shaking my head. “Not fuckin’ possible.”
On a cry, she reaches for me, dragging my body down to hers, and opens her thighs wide enough to accommodate my hips. We kiss feverishly, my rock-hard cock branding her soft belly with its heat. She tilts her hips and wraps her legs around me, her heels digging into my ass.
The scent of her arousal fills the air, and I want nothing more than to touch her, to make her feel good. When I slip my hand between her legs, I’m rewarded with her wet heat. Touching her like this—I will never tire of it. She writhes, desperately seeking out my fingers. I can’t deny her. I bring them to her clit, rubbing circles until she’s moaning aloud. Fuck, I wish I knew what’s in her head because her eyes are still glassy, even as she continues to urge me on. I groan as I take my dick in hand, rubbing it through her blood-engorged folds before I notch the tip at her entrance. I exhale and tilt my hips, slowly filling her with my cock, inch by inch. The velvety soft inner walls of her pussy clench down on me, and I let out a pent-up breath. My head goes hazy from the feel of my body joining with hers. “Baby?” I don’t even have it in me to finish the question, to verbally ask if she’s okay, but she understands all the same.
“Yes,” she whispers raggedly.
I withdraw and push back into her warm pussy, nipping the side of her neck, then shifting upward to kiss a spot near her temple. And that’s when I feel the wetness against my lips. She’s crying. My heart clenches in agony. Every word I manage to get out feels like it’s being raked over gravel as it exits my throat. “Nuh-uh.”
