Page 309 of Hateful Games

Fuck. How long has she been drinking? And why?

My uncle drank but it made him stronger and turned him into a monster. Teresa simply looks broken and tormented. What could haunt a beautiful soul like her into a sickening habit?

Stepping in Nova’s path, I place my hand on his arm. “She can’t sleep like this.”

“I told Nathan not to bring you here.”

I don’t show hurt at his cold tone and remind myself of Nathan’s advice. “She needs a shower, Nova. It’ll make her feel better.”

Teresa stirs, eyelids blinking at me. “Rosalie?”

“I’m here,” I whisper, tucking hair behind her ear. “Put her down, Nova. I’ll help her and bring her outside.”

“She’s not your responsibility, Rose.”

“It wasn’t a question.” My voice is firm.

After what feels like a long silence but is mere seconds, he lowers her to the ground. I put her arm around my shoulders and take her weight, which isn’t much at all. She’s feels so fragile, I’m afraid she’ll break if I let her slip.

“Leave a change of clothes,” I ask an unmoving Nova. He looks worried and I reassure him, “I can take care of her. If I need help, I’ll holler.”

He’s unsettled and angry at my presence, but still listens. Then shuts the door on his way out. I focus on Teresa, who I manage to walk inside the shower stall without tripping. She mumbles to herself, gaze pinched and sad as I methodically remove her clothes. Keeping one hand to steady her, I gently soap her up and clean her. She hums in satisfaction, especially when I wash her hair. My dress luckily doesn’t get much wet that I need to change. Once done, I quickly towel dry and help her into fresh clothes.

Through it all, she doesn’t sober, doesn’t acknowledge me, I may as well be a stranger. A million mysterious questions run through my head. How many nights has Nova run to her and taken care of her?

I didn’t know her health and mental issues went this deep.

It saddens me for her and Nova both.

And where the hell is Danish?

Helping Teresa to her feet, arm over my shoulder, I enter the bedroom. A cleaner version of it. Nova immediately appears before us and takes her weight off me. Wordlessly, he lays her down on the bed and covers her with a blanket.

I fight back tears when he sits beside her and hums a tune, brushing her hair until her unintelligible talking lulls her into a slumber. I conceal my emotions, not wanting him to mistake it for pity, as he rises and walks out.

I follow him like a shadow as he descends the stairs and makes his way to the kitchen.

Tension cloaks him, his earlier anger returning. Never have I seen him so quiet and vulnerable. He obviously didn’t want me to know. Does he think I’ll judge him? Or does he hold the same distrust as Nathan?

I shut that concern down fast.

Nova loves me.

Lingering near the island, I break the silence when he busies himself in cleaning the shards of glass. “I forced Nathan into bringing me to you.”

“If I needed you, I would’ve brought you myself.”

“I was worried.”

“I’m fine, Rose.” His tone is snippy. He moves to throw the empty bottles. “I’ve been taking care of my mom for years.”

“Where’s your father?”

“On a trip.” Under his breath, he curses, “As always.”

“Does he not know?” I flinch when he throws the last bottle too hard.

“Just go upstairs, Rose,” he snaps, the last shred of his patience gone as he stalks to the full sink.

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