Bruises.
On my arms. My ribs. My chest. Places that should never be bruised like that.
My knees buckle, and I grip the sink to keep myself upright.
Zesty. Pain. Relax, sweetheart. Baby.
I bend over the basin and vomit, the sound ripping out of me from somewhere deep and terrified. When the retching stops, all I can think is,Kade is on the other side of that door. He can’t see me like this.He can’t see the bruises. Not until I understand what happened. Not until I’m sure.
My hands shake violently as I reach out and turn the lock. The click echoes far too loudly in the quiet room.
And I know Kade heard it.
We never lock doors.
CHAPTER SIX
KADE
“Queenie, are you okay?” I press my forehead to the bathroom door. She locked it. Sheneverlocks me out. Eden even pisses with the door open. Showers with me in the room. There’s no privacy rule between us.
“I’m worried,” I tell the wood between us. “I think we should get you checked out.”
“I’m fine,” she says—too bright, too chirpy, the kind of tone people use when they’re trying to deflect. “It’s just the alcohol making a reappearance. You don’t need to see this.” She even laughs. But it’s thin. Forced.
“Eden,” I say quietly, “I don’t like this door being locked when you’ve bumped your head. What if you collapse?”
“Then I give you permission to break it down,” she says. “But I’m fine, I promise.”
I blow out a slow breath and sit on the edge of the bed, telling myself to be patient. To wait. To give her space.
Ten minutes crawl by before the door opens.
She steps out wrapped tightly in her dressing gown, pulled high and closed like armour. Her face is pale, her eyes shiny in a way that makes my stomach twist.
“No birthday lingerie?” I joke, trying to lighten the air, trying to coax one of her smiles.
But she flinches. Actually flinches. And my heart shatters. Since when was she scared of me?
Her head drops, and she snatches her pyjamas before hurrying right back into the bathroom. The door shuts—and locks again.
“Hey, I was kidding!” I call after her, but she doesn’t answer.
When she finally comes out again, she doesn’t meet my eyes. She climbs into bed, turns her back to me, and pulls the blanket right up to her chin like she’s freezing.
I watch her for a long moment.
No kiss. No cuddle. Not even a glance.
She scared the hell out of me tonight, and the least she could do is—
But it’s more than that. Something’s wrong.
And she’s trying to hide it.
When I wake, Eden’s already up and dressed. Atfour in the morning,she couldn’t stand or speak properly, now she’s humming while scrubbing the bathroom like nothing happened.
A cold knot forms in my gut.
