Page 30 of Something So Strong

Clutching her hand, Alma feels the condition of her fingers. Her breath hitches. “Get her in the bath.”

Putting my feelings for Alma aside, I follow her lead and rush to her apartment.

The layout is so familiar to me that I have Andy beside the bath before Alma can even turn the showerhead above it on.

“Get in with her,” she insists, turning to where I stand with Andy still shivering in my arms.

“I don’t think that’s such a good ide—”

“Get in the fucking bath! She needs to be held,” she demands.

“So it’s my balls on the line, then?” I fight back. But I was always gonna do it.

“Hold still. I’ve got you,” I whisper into Andy’s ear as she struggles to free herself from my arms. I can only speculate as to the origin of her trauma, but I’m certain being in the arms of a man twice her size—who also refuses to let her go—isn’t an easy pill for her to swallow right now. “I’m getting in the bath with you. But Alma isn’t going to leave.” I shoot Alma a look of reprimand, and she nods, relaxing her shoulders. We don’t mean anything right now.

After testing the water, Alma shakes the excess from her hand. “Make sure you’ve got hold of her. She isn’t going to like this.”

“I won’t hold you any tighter,” I reassure her as calmly as I can. “But I am getting in now.”

Andy’s body cowers into me—her face pressing against my chest.

I almost drop her when my first foot hits the pool of cool water in the base of the tub, because, for the first time, I realize I never had any shoes on. Excruciating shocks pulse up from the soles of my feet, but I grit my teeth and stay strong. It’s only my feet. For Andy, it’s everything.

Carefully sitting, I stretch my legs out in front of me and maneuver Andy so her back rests against my chest and her body is away from the water. “It’s going to be cold,” I remind her. “But please remember, I’m trying to help you.” Slowly, I move my arms in front of her, making sure she can see them. When she doesn’t hesitate, I wrap them around her torso and scoot us both forward under the shower stream.

A torturous wail fills the cramped bathroom as Andy thrashes against me. Her heels kick my shins and her head whips back against my chin. But I don’t let her go.

“Remember to breathe. Look at Alma if it helps.”

“I’ll warm it up soon,” she says kindly, reaching in to put her hand on Andy’s leg.

“Now!” she begs.

“Do you want to end up in the hospital?”

Andy gives in, and despite shivering, rests her head back against my shoulder. In response, I unwrap myself and move to rubbing her upper arms. “Stay here and let us take care of you.”

With a sniffle, she nods, brings her legs to her chest, and closes her eyes.

“Good.” Alma’s hand keeps moving to let her know she’s still there. “Neither of us will ever hurt you.”

“Never in a million years,” I reassure her, and something shifts in Andy.

Beneath the deluge of water, she seeks me out. Makes eye contact. Stares straight into my soul and thanks me for seeing her. Thanks me for not giving up on her even though with every attempt I made at connection she shut me out. And, even though I don’t deserve her kindness—despite her own traumatic past—her quivering eyes tell me she sees me too. And I’m broken.

“People like us need to stick together,” I smile, barely holding myself together.

“Yes,” she whimpers.

“You’re not working tonight.” Alma’s stern tone breaks through our moment as she stands and flicks through her phone.

“You can’t keep doing shit like this, Andy. Hurting yourself serves no purpose when there are people who want to help you,” I tell her, guiding her to rest against me again. “You better not push that hottie away, either. A rich Englishman could be the answer to all your prayers,” I joke, reaching forward to add some warmth to the water while Alma has her back turned.

“God doesn’t give a shit about me.”

“Yeah, me either,” I chuckle. “But if you drive that boy away and his blond friend leaves too, I’m gonna hold you personally responsible.” Successfully distracted by my gossip, she looks up at me with a new expression on her face. “You better not tell anyone,” I grin. It must be contagious because she smiles back. And for the first time in as long as I can remember, I feel good about myself. Like I may have a better reason for getting out of bed tomorrow.

I jump several times, yanking on the waistband of my khakis, trying to pull them up my thighs and over my ass. Finally in place, I run my hand around to push the white button-up in before zipping up the fly and fastening the button. Spinning around, I check myself out on the mirror inside the closet door. My backside has never been one of my points of interest, but even I have to admit how amazing it looks with the tan fabric stretched over it.

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