Turning the shower on as hot as I can stand, I undress and step under the spray, desperately needing to wash the last several hours away.
There are a lot of questions that need answers.
There are a lot of emotions I’ll need to sift through. The anger that the man I’ve worked for all these years has turned against me in a way I could never imagine. The disappointment that washed over me upon hearing he built an identity for me from the beginning for the sole purpose of tearing me down. The bitterness that filled me when I discovered he was planning for my demise from the very first job. It all hits harder than I thought it would. Harder than I was prepared for.
But the part that’s hitting me the hardest is the death of the woman. She came in and did her job. It’s my fault she’s dead. That James is dead. If I wasn’t playing this game with Mr. Smith, she’d still be alive.
I scrub every inch of my body. Shampoo my hair. Wash my face. Anything to feel clean.
Her death sits heavy on my shoulders, it fills my lungs, it clouds my vision.
The bathroom door squeaks open, making me jump, even though I expect Ryan to come in to check on me once he gets back from his office.
Steam has fogged the glass, so I can’t make out his details until he opens the door. A line appears in the middle of his forehead as he staresat me. His expression is one I can’t read. Just when I think he’ll walk away, he quietly undresses and joins me. He takes the washcloth from me before turning me toward the shower wall. One hand lands on my hip, holding me in place, while the other runs the cloth in long, sweeping passes along my back and shoulders.
I turn back around and bury my face in his chest while the water rains down around us. And I cry. Once I start, I can’t stop. Big, broken sobs that wreck me.
Ryan whispers in my ear. Nonsense. Sweet words. Promises.
His soft voice finding the chinks in my armor.
Ten minutes to fall apart. Ten minutes to soak in the comfort he offers regardless of whether I deserve it. I will take these ten minutes then pull myself back together.
The water starts to cool so Ryan shuts it off, then somehow grabs my towel without letting me go. I stand still as he dries me off.
“Want to crawl in the bed? Or want to eat first?” he asks as I pull on a pair of leggings and an oversize tee.
“Is Rachel still here?” I ask.
He nods as he towels off. “Yes, she feels personally responsible for you. She plans to stay within arm’s reach until we get to Atlanta.”
I take in a deep breath. Then one more. “You don’t need to go with me to Atlanta.”
Ryan shrugs. “Of course I do. But we’re not talking about that tonight. We’ll make our plans tomorrow.”
My mind is already working through different scenarios now that I know what I’m up against. I’ll go to Atlanta after I make a few other stops first.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asks.
I don’t like that he can read me so well. It shows how much I’ve let my guard down where he’s concerned.
“Just thinking about what they’ll ask me. And what they’ll do if I can’t answer their questions.”
Ryan pulls me in close. “I’ll be there with you the entire time. So will Rachel. We’re on your side. If there’s one thing you believe, believe that.”
I grasp his hands in mine and pull them to my mouth, kissing each knuckle. “I’m hungry. But I need a minute to gather myself.”
He smiles and squeezes my hands. “I’ll go pick up some food. Come down when you’re ready.”
Ryan leaves the room and I sink down on our bed.
I’ve had my pity party, and now it’s time to get to work.
Chapter 18
Present Day
Mr. Smith wants me in Atlanta by the day after tomorrow and the last thing I need is to have Rachel there with me.
