“Bathroom’s through there,” I said. “You can shower, get some rest. I’m only a few feet away if you need me.”
She hesitated for a second, like she wanted to argue, but then just nodded. “Thanks,” she said quietly, heading for the bathroom.
I waited until I heard the water running before I sat on the edge of the bed. My hands dragged down my face, exhaustion clawing at me, but it wasn’t just that. The silence made it worse.
Images from before started creeping into my head. Those flashes Bael shoved into my head were now haunting me. Her curvy body. The way he described her. The things he wanted to do to her. I swallowed hard, fighting the pull that came with the memory.
My body reacted before my mind caught up, blood surging in all the wrong ways. I hated it. Hated that his voice was still buried somewhere inside me, whispering filth I couldn’t shut out.
You want to fuck her, don’t you?he’d said.You can take hr from behind while iI fuck her soul.
I clenched my fists until my knuckles cracked. “Shut the fuck up,” I muttered, my voice rough.
The sound of the shower running filled the air, a steady rhythm that made my pulse jump again. I stood, shoving away from the bed, and forced myself out of the room.
Back in the living room, I dropped onto the couch, elbows on my knees, staring at the floor. My heart was still pounding, the same slow burn running through me. I took a few deep breaths, trying to get control. I’d fought worse things before, but this, this was personal.
Bael wasn’t just haunting me anymore. He was testing me.
Testing my restraint. My loyalty, and my sanity.
I rubbed the back of my neck, staring at the faint glow from under the bedroom door. The sound of the water stopped, replaced by the soft click of the bathroom door opening. For a moment, the house went quiet again.
I sat there, motionless, every muscle locked tight. I could hear her footsteps padding across the hardwood, slow and cautious. The towel brushed against her skin as she moved, and I closed my eyes, forcing the thought out of my head.
This wasn’t about lust. Not anymore. It was about keeping her safe.
And I wasn’t about to let the demons win.
The bathroom door opened, and the sound of her bare feet padded softly against the floor. I didn’t move. Just stared at the wall, pretending I wasn’t aware of every damn thing about her presence. The scent of her soap, the quiet rustle of fabric as she shifted, the weight of her silence.
She walked out wearing one of my clean t-shirts, the hem brushing against her thick thighs and it took everything in me not to lay her back on that couch and spread her legs. Her damp hair clung to her shoulders, the dampness curled around her breasts, outlining their plushness against the fabric and my dick stirred. She smelled like citrus and something warm, something that didn’t belong in this place.
“You look like shit,” she said, her voice cutting through the quiet.
I huffed out a dry laugh. “You really know how to charm a man, Grace.”
“Not tryin’ to charm you.” She crossed her arms, studying me. “You’re welcome to use the shower. You need one.”
“I’m good.”
She shook her head. “You can’t keep watch all night, Hellsing. You’ll burn out.”
I looked up at her then, meeting her eyes. “You don’t get it. I can’t sleep. Not after what I saw.”
Something flickered across her face. I wasn’t sure if it was fear or curiosity, maybe both. “What you saw… or what you felt?”
My jaw tightened. “Both.”
She stepped closer, the light from the kitchen catching the glint of water still clinging to her hair. “Then talk to me,” she said. “Tell me what’s goin’ on in that head of yours.”
“I told you already,” I muttered, dragging a hand down my face. “It’s not somethin’ I can explain. Not without draggin’ you deeper into it.”
“Too late for that.”
I looked up again. She was closer now, close enough that I could smell her skin, see the pulse fluttering at the base of her neck. My muscles tensed. The air between us felt too heavy, too damn close.
“You should sleep,” I said, my voice rougher than I wanted it to be. “The bed’s yours tonight.”
