Page 63 of Best Laid Plans

I turned on the fireplace; hoping the cozy interior coupled with the warmth of the fireplace, would be in soothing contrast to the cold, sterile jail.

"Nova," I said gently, sitting beside her. "You're safe now."

She shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I can't...I can't do this, Anson. It's too much."

I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close. She resisted at first, but then she broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. I held her, whispering soothing words, my own heart breaking at her pain.

"Shh, it's okay," I murmured. "I'm here. You're safe."

She cried for a good half an hour, the weight of her trauma pouring out. I just held her, letting her release the pain she'd been carrying for so long. Eventually, her sobs subsided, and she looked up at me, her eyes red and swollen.

"Why are you doin' this?" she whispered. "After everything."

"Because I care about you, Nova," I said simply. "I always have."

She searched my eyes, looking for any sign of deceit. Finding none, she sighed, resting her head on my shoulder. "I think it's because you feel guilty," she breathed, "but right now, I just…I don't care. I just need…."

"Need what, Sugar?"

I almost didn't hear her say, "You," because her voice was so soft. I hugged her closer and kissed her hair.

We sat like that for a while.

"I need a shower." She tried to move away from my lap, but I didn't let her. "I smell like that jail…like Carre." She began shaking again.

"Okay," I kissed her forehead. "Will you let me help you?"

I thought she'd turn me down, but she surprised me with her strength.

"Yes," she said, and I knew that everything that had ever happened in my life since she left had brought me to this moment, the one I'd been waiting for, where I could be her man, her support, her caregiver.

Chapter 24

Nova

The bathroom was a dream. It had a clawfoot bathtub and a large separate glass shower stall. There were also large windows, but it was dark outside so I couldn’t see what I was certain was a fabulous view.

"I can undress myself," I told Anson, not comfortable at all with being naked in front of him.

"Okay," he smiled tightly. "I'll find you something to wear."

"I have my gym bag in the car…." I trembled, thinking about my car, how easy it was for Pete to arrest me, haul me away for no good reason, again.

He put his hands on my shoulders. "He'll never fuck with you again. That's a promise."

I didn't believe him. "I just need to clean myself," I said instead.

"I'll leave clothes on the bed." He nodded toward a stack of white towels next to the bathtub on a rustic wooden shelf. "Towels are here. Robe is here." He pointed to a fluffy, white, terrycloth robe on a hanger on the back of the bathroom door.

I took my clothes off and knew I'd never wear them again. Might as well burn them, because the dress would always remind me of sitting on the floor of a jail cell and having a panic attack.

I could still feel the cold metal of the cuffs against my wrists. I couldn't help the tears. I sobbed as I let the warm water wash over me. I scrubbed myself almost raw with a loofah I found next to the towels, still wrapped in plastic. The water went cold before I stepped out of the shower stall. I found a brush and hairdryer underneath the sink. They probably belonged to Bailey, I mused. She probably came here with Anson. Jealousy ripped through me.

I dried myself, and used some of the Molten Brown moisturizer on the counter. I brushed my teeth with a fresh toothbrush, and almost felt like I could bear what had happened. I finger-combed my hair because I could not use Bailey's brush or hairdryer. My hair would be a mess in the morning, but that was that.

I needed my phone, which was in my car, which I hoped would be delivered by the morning.

I was going to have to take the day off. I couldn't handle going to work in the morning and pretending like I was alright. I wasn't. I was so far from being okay that it wasn't even funny.

---