and bruises in my most private places, and the semen in my hair. Obviously, there was no match to the DNA in any criminal database, which meant my attackers didn’t have criminal records.
So the case was dropped for lack of evidence, and I was left to rebuild my life around a crime that would never be solved.
Beck pulls into the garage of the Millennium Tower and inches into his reserved space. He opens my door and takes my hand to help me out of the passenger seat. His touch is warm, dry, and comforting as we make our way up to the penthouse.
The minute we step inside, I have an immediate burst of relief mixed with a touch of uncertainty.
I mean . . . where do we even go from here?
But Beck is Beck, and he takes charge. I suspect this is due to his experience in handling Caroline, and while the crimes against me are not fresh, the memories of them tonight are.
He pulls me down the hallway to our bedroom, right into the bathroom. Releasing my hand, he kneels beside the large garden tub and starts to fill it with hot water. He opens a bottle of my bubble bath and pours in a generous amount. I tuck my hands into my pockets, watching him test the heat of the water and make adjustments before standing up and wiping his hands on a towel.
Turning to me, he places his hands on my cheeks and leans in to kiss my forehead. “I suspect you’ll tell me you’re not hungry, but I’m going to make some soup for you all the same. And some tea. Get in the bath, take your time, and just relax.”
I nod, because that sounds nice and it also gives me time to prepare for the inevitable talk I know we need to have. My hands go to the navy blue sweater I’m wearing, pulling it up and over my head. Beck watches me for a minute, his eyes warm and tender, but completely lacking in desire. This comforts me for the moment, and I drop the sweater to the marble floor.
Beck turns, walks back into the bedroom, and within a few moments, he’s back again. He places one of his folded white T-shirts on the vanity with a pair of my panties on top. Turning to the back of the door, he pulls his robe off the hook and lays it at the foot of the tub. Another kiss to my temple while his hand wraps around the back of my neck, and he turns to leave.
“Beck?” I say quietly.
“Yeah, baby,” he returns softly.
“I’m going to tell you everything.”
“I’m ready to hear it when you’re ready to tell it.” His eyes are sad but reassuring. “I’ll help you. I can’t make it right, but I’ll make it better. I promise. And I have things I need to tell you too.”
I wonder if he’d help me kill JT. I wonder exactly how strong his loyalty will be to me.
I wonder exactly how in the hell he’ll be able to look JT in the face tomorrow at work.
“Now get in the bath. I’ll come check on you in a bit,” he instructs me.
“Okay,” I whisper, and watch as he gives me one more sad smile and walks out of the bathroom.
My eyes open, blinking against the harsh morning light streaming in through the wall of windows to my left. I rub my eyes, try to clear the fuzziness from my head left over from an incredibly exhausting day yesterday, and turn my head to the right. Beck’s side of the bed is empty and the covers are pushed to the side. There’s an indentation in his pillows, so it appears he slept here last night, although I don’t have any recollection.
Then it comes back to me.
My bath.
Eating about half a bowl of soup before pushing it away.
Drinking the cup of chamomile tea he had prepared for me.
Taking my hand . . . pulling me up from the dining table.
Leading me to our bed and pulling back the covers.
Crawling in behind me, still wearing jeans and a white T-shirt, his lavender button-down discarded. “Let me just hold you. We can talk when you’re ready.”
My eyes closing and then . . . bright morning sunlight.
Sitting up, I push the sheet and blanket off me, swing my legs to the side, and stand up. I stretch, feeling well rested and strangely at peace for the moment. It’s almost as if