Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 148704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 744(@200wpm)___ 595(@250wpm)___ 496(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 744(@200wpm)___ 595(@250wpm)___ 496(@300wpm)
You soak in the presence of the person you love as you don’t get to experience them often, because no matter how much one tries to deny it, when their demons win over, the person you know and care for is buried beneath the surface. Not quite reachable, yet not quite gone.
A faint shadow in the fiery sun.
That’s always been the hardest part for me, staring into the familiar eyes of the brother I love endlessly, but hitting a metaphorical barrier, keeping me from truly “seeing” him.
Sober, Memphis is all the things I’ve claimed. He’s kind and selfless and willing to give you the shirt off his back, no question, no concern, but under the influence? You just never know.
At least this has been my experience. I imagine it’s different for everyone.
I know it is for Crew.
Footsteps sound behind me, my eyes closing when he dips down, kissing my temple as he pulls me to my feet, holding my hand, so I can step inside, both of us having slept naked, being we had no clothes but the dirty, bloody ones from last night, mine filthy from him cradling me to his chest. I stay at the back of the tub, leading him in front of me.
Together, we lower, my legs wrapping around him from behind, and he settles into my chest, his head pressed right between my breasts.
He doesn’t so much as wince from the sting the water must provide, his eyes closing as if he’s soothed simply by the touch of my skin to his. I wet his chest with a rag, taking careful care to dab at his face, gently washing along his scalp, in case I come across an injury, but from where I am, he has no others. No black eye and outside of the small bruise on his shoulder blade, the two cuts on his brow and lip, he has no other visible damage.
I lift his hands, inspecting his knuckles. The middle and ring finger are both split open and threatening to scab over.
“It doesn’t hurt, baby. I can’t even feel it,” he murmurs gently, his eyes closing, hands drawing small, soothing circles along my thighs.
Tears pool in my eyes, and I nod, though he can’t see me.
We sit submerged, the silence somehow a heavy form of comfort, or maybe it’s simply us, safe in each other’s arms.
It’s not until the water is no more than lukewarm that Crew stands, drying himself before pulling me up with him, and drying my body for me, his hands lingering in places longer than necessary, but his need to feel me in all ways essential.
He pulls me into his arms, pushing my damp hair from my cheeks, and drops his forehead to mine, exhaustion clear along his face.
“You didn’t sleep.”
He shakes his head, lifting his hand and sinking it into my hair. “I will.”
Just not yet…
His eyes, heavy with the need for sleep, shine with something deeper, the honey hue of the hazel appearing more golden than normal. They cling to mine, and his hold on me tightens with purpose.
“What?” I whisper.
“You called me.”
My brows pull, and he continues, a tenderness blanketing his hard features in an instant.
“Last night. You called me when you needed help. When you felt unsafe. You called me. Not the police. Not your dad.”
My palms come up, latching over his wrists. “You’re the first person I thought of. You’re always the first person I think of. Happy, sad, mad. Scared. Since forever.”
His eyes close, only to open a few seconds later. “I don’t deserve you, but I won’t let that stop me from keeping you.”
Silence falls over us, understanding settling into our bones, one we’ve felt long before today, but last night drove the need to speak the words out loud.
My emotions seem to settle in, and I blink rapidly, attempting to calm myself.
“Davis,” he murmurs, his hold tightening. “Baby, don’t cry. I can’t fucking take it.”
“I’m sorry, I just—” I swallow. “I can’t believe last night was real.”
I meet the hazel eyes I used to dream about, and the sheer sadness within them breaks the dam. “He stole my car, brought those men to my house. How could he?” I weep, collapsing into Crew’s chest.
His arms come around me, and he barricades me in his strong embrace, but he remains silent, allowing me to whisper to myself what I wish, without sharing what’s on his mind.
I imagine it’s not a lot of good, which is exactly why he keeps it in.
He loves me and the last thing he wants to do is be the reason for the weight settling over me with each passing second. I know he’s thinking about the man from the diner, how he pushed me to talk to him for my benefit, blaming himself for not seeing something deeper. And there is something deeper.