The sounds of another scuffle fill the room. More footsteps.
Christian rises, hoisting me into his arms, and strides out of the room, down the stairs and into the nearby guest bedroom. He steps into the shower with me fully clothed and turns it on with me still in his arms.
The water drowns out the mania gripping me, and I sob, clutching his wet shirt, trying to get closer again to the safety he represents. The robe slides off and hits the shower floor with a wet plop. The water stings.
“I need everything off!”
My clothes are in the way. Stopping the water from cleaning me.
“This is not a good idea.”
“God, please!”
“Shh, alright.”
I don’t want to let go of him and that makes it awkward. But I feel better once they are off, and the water reaches my skin.
“Please let me help her.”
The voice is female and comes from the outer room.
I don’t want anyone to see me like this… anyone but Christian.
“Hush, it’s only Lillete. I’m close to fucking losing it—don’t want to leave you—but I can’t stay with you. I fucking can’t. You know that. Let Lillete help you.”
His words make sense. My husband is on his way. He can’t find me here, in Christian’s arms, naked. The terror of losing Christian is the only thing that outweighs the terror of what just happened.
I let my feet drop to the floor. But they give out and I sink straight down.
He comes with me, couching beside me, carefully brushing the wet hair from my face.
I’m still clutching his hand.
Letting go of it is inexplicably hard.
My eyes lift to his face.
He’s as still as a statue.
His hair is slicked down against his skull. He doesn’t even blink despite water sluicing over us. His expression is terrifyingly calm.
CHRISTIAN
She finally releases me and allows Lillete to help her. But I’m fucking feral, and my chest starts heaving the moment I put distance between us. She’s covered in bruises and scratches—it looks like there’s a bite oozing blood on her upper arm.
Fucking animal.
If Ettore doesn’t end the piece of shit, I’m going to go ahead and slip into his bedroom one night, cut off his shriveled cock and choke him on it.
Roman is standing in the doorway, his face drawn. “Did he?”
I swipe a hand down my face. I’m soaking, and dripping water everywhere. “She was—” I can’t get the fucking words out. “I think he came over her… maybe. Looked like the sick fucker had bitten her, too.”
I promised Dante that I would watch her, and I’ve fucking failed.
Ettore is going to be out for Cosmo’s blood.
Fuck him. He can get in my fucking queue. The whole sick family needs setting on fire.
