Chapter 26
Staring out the window across from Reece’s bed, I absently ran my finger along the bottom of my lip. The swelling had gone down, but the cut just off the center was still rough and the inside of my mouth was still tender, especially if I wasn’t careful and ate something with irregular edges. I couldn’t stop messing with it. Sort of like when I had chickenpox as a kid, and couldn’t stop itching. My self-control hadn’t improved.
I didn’t know what time it was. I’d been awake for a while. Sometime in the early morning, I guessed, since I couldn’t make out the time on the nightstand clock. At some point I needed to get my glasses replaced. Unbeknownst to me at the time, they’d been broken when they’d hit the floor in . . . in that apartment.
It had been four days since I’d found that hidden door in my closet. Four days since I stumbled into a room that reminded me of something straight out of nightmares. Four days of my stomach aching and my face throbbing, a painful reminder of how close I’d come to not walking out of that room. Four days filled with a lot of introspection.
I guessed near-death experiences at the hands of a blossoming serial killer did that. Made you rethink a lot of your choices and plans.
Come to find out, Henry had tried to call me back after I’d called him. When I hadn’t answered, he’d called Reece and when he’d found out that I was at my apartment he’d made the decision to come, apparently not wanting to miss his chance to talk to me, and having no idea what he was walking into. When Henry had called Reece to tell him that I hadn’t answered when he returned my call, Reece had tried calling me. He knew I would’ve answered with everything going on. Instinct had led him to my place, and when Henry showed, finding the front door unlocked, he’d grabbed a crowbar from his car and made his way to my bedroom, then he’d heard Reece talking to Kip.
The rest was history.
Funny how one decision, the choice to start letting go, had literally been what had saved my life.
In more ways than the obvious, I was beginning to realize.
Kip had been taken to the hospital for a rather minor head injury and then released into the custody of the county jail. That’s where he was now, and from what I’d been told, he hadn’t confessed to anything, but from what he’d said to me and all those horrific photos on his wall, there was enough evidence to charge him with multiple accounts of assault, plus Colton had explained that Kip would most likely be charged with the disappearance of Shelly Winters even though no body had been recovered. I’d also been told there was a good chance that the district attorney would try to strike some kind of deal if they could get Kip to tell them where Shelly was.
A few weeks ago that would’ve infuriated me. How dare someone like him get a chance to receive a better sentencing—life in prison versus a needle in the arm—when he’d done such terrible things? He’d obviously murdered someone and terrorized innocent women—scared me and violated every definition of privacy—and deserved capital punishment.
But Shelly’s family also deserved closure and she deserved to be found, to be laid to rest by her loved ones. And I was done with holding on to so much hate. For the last six years, I’d let hatred and guilt shape me in more ways than I ever realized. Nothing against those who sought lethal punishment, but for me, I just wanted to move on. To look toward a future where a part of me wasn’t wrapped up in hating someone. I wanted to see Kip pay for his crimes, but I wouldn’t stand in the way if it meant they could locate that poor girl.
So yeah, I’d done a lot of thinking about a lot of things these past four days. College. Painting. The bar. Reece. Henry. Charlie. As corny as it sounded, I felt like I was finally waking up and getting a second chance.
The bed shifted and a hard body curled around me, a warm and bare chest against my back, legs pressed against the backs of mine. An arm carefully settled around my waist.
A second chance when it came to a lot of things.
“Stop messing with your lip,” Reece ordered, voice gruff from sleep. His hand flattened against my lower stomach.
My finger stilled. “I’m not.”
He chuckled softly, stirring the hair around my neck. “Uh-huh. You been awake long?”
I lowered my hand to where his rested, placing mine atop his. His hand was so much larger than mine. “A couple of hours, I think.”
Reece didn’t say anything for a long moment. “Talk to me, babe.”
Wiggling my fingers in between his, I held his hand. Reece had been great the last four days. Staying with me while I’d been checked over at the hospital. Talking my parents and brothers off the cliff when they arrived. Being there for me when I finally freaked out and had a wee mental breakdown the night after the attack. Distracting me when I closed my eyes and saw those photos of me—of us—because those photos had been creepy and nothing like the portraits I’d done of Reece. Oh man, nothing like that at all. He’d been my raft in a churning ocean, but I knew it hadn’t been easy for him. None of this had been.
Easing onto my back, I turned my head and met his gaze. “I’m okay, honestly. Just been thinking.” With my free hand, I reached up and placed my hand on his cheek. Stubble grazed my palm. “What about you?”
“Just woke up.”
I would’ve rolled my eyes if my right eye still didn’t feel funky. I had one hell of a shiner. “That’s not what I meant.”
He held my gaze for a moment and then closed his eyes. Under my palm, his jaw tensed, and concern pinged around inside me. He hadn’t really talked about himself during these four days. It had been the twenty-four-hour Roxy channel.
I was about to straddle him and force him to speak when he finally did. “I saw that bastard yesterday.”
I didn’t have to guess who he was referring to. “You went to the jail?” Reece had to work since he’d taken time off when Charlie had passed away.
“I had to take someone in, and they had him in general lockup.” His eyes opened and they were a bright, angry blue. “I wanted to go into that cell and kick his fucking head in. I almost did. He was at the front of the cell, eyeballing me, and I was coming at him, about to grab him through the bars and knock his ass out, but one of the COs must’ve seen what I was about to do and stepped in.”
“Got to say, I’m happy to hear that.” I ran my thumb along the curve of his high cheekbone. “It would suck if you ended up in jail.”
“Yeah, that could be problematic, but damn, babe, for a moment, whatever repercussion I faced would’ve been worth it.” His gaze drifted over my face. “Because when I see you right now, I’m reminded of what the fucker did to you, what he wanted to do to you.”
My breath hitched. “Reece—”
“I know you’re as okay as you can be. And I know you’re going to be a hundred percent, because Roxy, you are strong. I know that, but I think about what he’d been doing. The fact that he was there when you and I were together.” Fury laced his words, forming a bitter edge. “He was there when you were alone. The sick fuck got close to you. He touched you. It’s going to take a little bit for me to get past the point where I want to beat his face in.”
I searched his eyes, afraid I’d find a shadow of guilt somewhere in there. “You know there was nothing you could do, right? No one suspected that it was him or that was how someone was getting into my place.”
“I. Was. There. He stood in the fucking closet and watched us. All the training I’ve had, and I had no idea it was him.” He rolled onto his back, causing my fingers to slip off his face. He lifted his hands, scrubbing them over his face. “Fuck, I didn’t even remember his name.”
My stomach twisted as I sat up, and I ignored the twinge of pain just below my ribs. I reached out, grabbing his wrists. I tried to pull his hands away from his face, but he resisted. Not to be deterred, I let go and yanked the comforter off him.
“What are you doing?” His voice was muffled behind his hands.
I swung one leg over his narrow hips and then straddled him. Grabbing his wrists, I yanked on his arms again. This time he let me pull them away. He arched a brow at me as his gaze dipped. “Have I ever told you how much I like it when you wear my shirts and nothing else?”
I ignored that, because as crazy as it sounded, I thought his eyes held a certain sheen to them as I stared down at him. And that made my heart ache something fierce, because I didn’t want him to take on the heavy weight of responsibility for someone else’s actions. That wasn’t fair, and it hurt to watch him carry that.
It struck me then, like being hit by a ton of flying monkeys—flying monkey asses, actually. That piercing pain in the chest must’ve become something all too familiar to my parents after watching me blame myself for what happened to Charlie. Yeah, what was going on with Kip was totally different, but in a way it was still the same, and it had to be what Reece felt when he heard me talk about the way I felt.
What a hell of a wakeup call.
“None of this was your fault,” I told him. “Please tell me you understand that, because I cannot deal with you blaming yourself when you had nothing to do with this.”
His brows furrowed together. “You were hurt—you are hurt.”
“But you didn’t hurt me. You saved me. So did Henry.” The last words were something I never thought I’d ever utter in my entire life. “And you’ve been here for me. You’ve been there for me when Charlie passed away and before that. And if I’d given you the chance, you would’ve been there for me a hell of a lot longer.” Tears pricked at my eyes, stinging my right one. “You did what you needed to do, Reece.”