there is ice swimming through my veins. I can’t stop feeling his breath on my skin, the sensation of his hands gripping and prodding at my flesh.
After a quick trip to the emergency room (at End’s insistence) to make sure I’m okay, Endymion drives us home. I can practically feel him stewing the whole way. Thankfully, he doesn’t say anything about what happened tonight. I think he knows I need a moment to collect myself.
“What about Luna?” I ask, the second we step over the threshold into the quiet house. It feels odd, not hearing her soft giggle or her pounding feet as she skids around the corner.
He keeps his hand firmly planted on my lower back as if he’s afraid I’ll disappear. “She’ll be fine at my parents’ place for the night. I told them to give me a call if there are any issues.”
My heart twinges at the thought of being away from my sweet girl for a whole night, but I nod. In the bedroom, I bypass his king-sized bed, opting for the bathroom instead. My chest caves, and my lungs squeeze painfully when I look at myself in the mirror. A small cut on my cheekbone is slowly scabbing over, a purple bruise forming around it, and the scrapes on the other side of my face look just as bad as they feel. It’s just on a small portion of my cheek, but it’s there, and I’ll have to find a way to explain to Luna what happened. How do I explain to her that someone hurt me without frightening her?
I feel End come up behind me, his warmth emanates around me, enveloping me in a secure blanket. His hands settle on my waist gently.
“Where did he touch you?” In the mirror, his face is blank and impassive, but his tone gives him away. He’s barely hanging on by a thread.
Flashes of Thomas’s hands on me have bile rising up my throat. My bottom lip trembles, and I squeeze my lids shut.
“Nothing like that happened. But…I think it would’ve if Landon hadn’t come when he did. Thomas was so angry. About you. About me. And Holly. He was drunk—not that that makes it any better. I should’ve gone straight home after work. I shouldn’t have stopped there. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Hey,” End admonishes, gently turning me around to face him. “This is not your fault. You understand me?”
“Why do I feel like it is?” I whisper, feeling a fresh wave of tears sting my eyes. The muscle in his jaw strains, and he pulls me into his arms. My hands wrap around his waist, and I dig my fingers into the material of his shirt, never wanting to let go. Endymion is my safe space at this moment. He’s the warmth I’m clinging onto in the hopes it’ll wipe away all the bad that happened tonight—a clean slate.
“Let’s get you cleaned up.”
I allow End to help me out of my filthy clothes. He’s careful of my wounds, and once I’m standing before him, completely naked, his eyes rake over my flesh, looking for anything he could’ve missed.
In the shower, his hands are soft and gentle as he cleans me. He doesn’t explore or grope; he just takes care of me in a way I didn’t know I needed. A way I never thought a man like him would ever be capable of. Under the warm spray of the shower, I tilt my head back, taking him in.
Standing this close, I’m enthralled by the way the rivulets of water roll down the sharp planes of his face. They stream down his thick, gorgeous hair and eyelashes. I watch the droplets glide down along his angular jaw. His hair looks brown when it’s soaked like it is right now, the blond and light brown pieces hidden. The strands are stuck to his forehead and neck, and when the water sluices down his soft mouth, I want to reach up and drink it down. Sensing the weight of my stare, he pauses, glancing down at me.
“Thank you.”
His hand slides around my hip, and he draws my wet body flush against his. “Don’t thank me for this.”
He cups my cheek, and with the softest kiss that I feel down to the depths of my soul, he presses his lips against mine. There’s nothing heated or crazy about it. It’s soft and oh, so perfect. I find myself clutching onto him like he’s a lifeline. My lifeline.