Fighting the angry current of the river put my body through a hell I’d never experienced before. Warring with waves is nothing like battling men. I can defend myself against men, at least to some extent, but the water? There’s no winning there. At least there wouldn’t have been if I didn’t have Roman with me.
Once the door shuts softly behind me, I start peeling myself of my soiled clothes. Roman offered to stop and let me change during the drive, but we were both too tired to move, and it was easier to stay grimy.
The bathroom has a desert theme. Tiny, potted flowering succulents adorn the brown granite countertops, with framed silhouettes of the Las Vegas skyline nailed into the wall on either side of the vanity, shining under the dimmed incandescent light bulbs.
Switching on the shower’s faucet, I punch down the plug and let the tub fill with steaming liquid. As I wait, I walk back toward the mirror, holding my breath once I see my reflection appear in the corner of my eye.
I wait with bated breath for Gabriel’s voice to slither through my ears, the slimy memory of his touch to glide along the ridges of my bones as he snarls poisonous slurs. But it never comes, and when I finally raise my gaze to land on my reflection, he isn’t standing over my shoulder. His soulless black eyes aren’t paralyzing me with fear.
I glare into the spotless mirror, and all I can see is me.
Lurching back in shock, I twist to look over my shoulder, ready to catch his apparition somewhere behind me.
Not there.
A manic laugh barks out of me as I swivel around and gaze into my reflection once again. I don’t know when it was that I last saw only me in a mirrored surface. He was always there, either in reality or something my paranoia conjured. Either way, it hasn’t been just me in a long time.
Slowly, I back away from the glass, an unfound feeling coursing through my veins as I shut off the stream of water.
I’m too occupied with the feeling of being unwatched for the first time in my life that I barely notice the burning heat of the water below.
Submerging to my chin, I float, letting myself relax while the warmth penetrates my tender muscles and stiff bones.
I scrub my skin with a cheap loofa Roman bought me from the corner store, letting the calming aroma of lilacs and lavender lull me into a deep state of serenity.
Thoughts of home filter through the peace, but I’m not overwhelmed with the bitter memories. I think of the scorched boards and shattered glass, my past life now decaying to be eventually taken over by mother nature.
One day, no one will even remember the house in the woods or the obscene and salacious acts committed behind closed doors. Gabriel, Liam, McLaren, Fallon, and Jimmy will be names of the past, along with Roman’s and my own. And no one will think twice about a lost girl who went missing the night of a fire or the boy who stole her away.
I will be forgotten, and so will my life.
Finally.
Draining the tub, I flip on the shower and give my hair a quick wash, letting my nails rake over a tender spot on my scalp until the throbbing diminishes into a faint pulse.
Then, shutting off the stream, I cautiously step out of the bath, careful not to put too much pressure on my ankle while I slip on a pair of grey leggings and one of Roman’s plain white tees.
Steam emerges from the room the second I open the door, coating Roman in a light fog once he rises from the bed to meet me.
Roman drops a kiss on the center of my forehead before going around the side of me, saying he’ll be out in five minutes after a quick shower.
I watch the muscles in his back twitch with every step he takes as I make my way over to the bed. They roll over themselves when he runs his fingers through his soft waves. I admire his form up until the last second, and even when the door clicks shut, I replay the image of him behind my eyes.
Sighing, I close my lids and listen to the patter of the water droplets while rubbing my hands along the cords of my neck. I can still taste the river water pouring down my throat, can feel the suffocating pressure of the liquid filling my lungs as I begged for help. There was a stabbing sensation behind my eyes and in my ear canal before everything started to fade, and a restful numbness claimed my soul.
I didn’t want to die, but I was ready to.
But now, lying on this pillowed mattress, listening to the melodic sound of Roman humming over the splashing of water, I don’t want anything more but totry.
After a handful of minutes, I hear the water shut off and his feet slapping against the white stone tile as he stands in front of the mirror to put his sweats on.
Without any fear in my heart, I sit on the other side of the bed, closest to the bathroom door, and I wait. My body begins to tremble with nerves as I hear the knob jiggling under his aggressive hand.
I stand once the door starts to creak open, quickly gripping the band of my leggings to shove them down and kick them off.
Roman emerges from the bathroom, soaking wet, with droplets of water running in between the grooves of his sculpted chest and chiseled abdomen. He freezes by the entrance, a smirk pulling at his lips while his hazel gaze swirls with confusion.
“Everything all right?” he asks, stepping farther into the room with his dirty, soaked jeans cradled in his arms.
