I say nothing. Lying to my brother is a waste of time, and I don’t have the energy for it. We have always been in tune withone another, and I’m guessing he can tell I’ve already caught feelings.
“Have you told her about the past?”
I’m surprised by his question.
“Why would I?”
I shrug, signaling for another beer from Sunday, who is heading back our way.
“She deserves to know.”
“Why?”
Sunday cracks the bottle open and hands it to me and looks between us.
“What did I miss?”
“Nothing, darlin’.”
I drain the bottle and then slam it on the counter.
“I’m off to shower and grab some food. I’ll leave you two to, well, whatever it is you do.”
Razor says nothing at all, standard procedure, and as I leave them behind, I disguise the smile on my face. My brother is definitely not the easiest man to be around, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I’m much the same, I get it, but there is one difference between us. I shook off the past a whole lot quicker than he did.
CHAPTER 19
DELILAH
Alone at last. I can’t remember when I was. It feels kind of weird, and Ashton left with the promise of returning in one hour, enough time to shower and change into one of the many outfits that hang in the generous-sized closet.
To be honest, they have thought of everything. Most of the stuff from Rockwell is here, not that I want any of it, alongside new clothes, toiletries, and even a few books. It appears they meant it when they said I was to make this my home, and as I gaze around the pretty room, I never want to leave.
They told me I could decorate, but I wouldn’t change a thing. It’s the prettiest room I have ever seen. Soft cream tones mix with warmer pink ones. The bedding is crisp and white with a floral comforter draped over the bed; scatter cushions appear pristine as they stand to attention on the bed. The drapes are also white, framing a beautiful view of the lake. Soft fur rugs and gorgeous lighting make this room an oasis from the madness my life has become.
I love it here.
To be honest, I’m the happiest I have ever been, what my memory allows, anyway. Was I happy before? I hope so.
The first thing I do is take a shower and wash my hair, and I notice the black dye running down the plug. Why did they dye my hair?
Why did they drug me, and why was I there in the first place? As I dry my hair, wrapped in a towel, there’s a sharp knock on the door and my heart stills. I find my voice and call out, “Who is it?”
“Blade.”
My heart thumps as I clutch the towel close to me and head across the room, and as I open the door, the relief inside me surprises me.
His eyes power through me and I forget to breathe.
“Hey,”
“Hey.”
I smile, the relief on seeing him overpowering, and I don’t even register I’m almost naked and open the door wider.
“Come in.”
