Page 37 of Slay Bells Ring

As I study the room, I mutter, “It’s homey, I guess.” I pull away from Kane to sit on the bed and immediately work to pull my boots off. My feet do feel better without the weight of boots surrounding them. My jacket comes off next, which I just drop to the floor.

Kane leaves me to get everything from the car, and I decide it’s time for a nice, long shower with some hot water, so I shuffle my way into the bathroom and close the door behind me. My clothes come off first, then I have to sit on the toilet and work at the bandages wrapped around my feet.

The soles of my feet are still tender. I could use some pain killers, but I doubt anywhere in this Hallmark town will be open tomorrow. Might have to wait until the day after Christmas to get some true relief.

The bandages fall to the ground, and my lips pull into a frown as I stare at the bottom of my left foot. The wound looks like a bruised cut; the skin re-fused itself together where the glass shard pierced the tough skin, but it was deep enough to bruise everything underneath. It doesn’t look awful, but it doesn’t look great, either.

I turn the water on, and since I need to wait a bit until the water gets hot, I end up staring at my reflection in the mirror on the opposite side of the room. I’m a mess. One big mess. I look tired, weary, exhausted to my bones, but I guess there’s a good reason for that.

Stepping in the shower, feeling the warm water pelt my head… I’ve never felt anything more relaxing. The comfort a warm shower brings with it is unmatched, and I sigh and close my eyes, reveling in its embrace.

Of course, I don’t have any shampoo or soap, but that’s okay. Right now, it’s enough to simply stand there in the warm water and feel it wash over me. With my eyes closed, I can easily pretend I’m anywhere but here.

I can’t say how long I stand there in the shower, soaking it all in, but it must be a while. I nearly doze off once or twice. The thought of getting out is the worst, but I can’t stay here all night. Besides, it’ll feel good to actually sleep in a real bed.

I turn off the water and get out. I know I should bandage up my feet again, but as I dry myself off, all my energy is suddenly drained, like I’m tapped out. I don’t want to bandage them. Hell, I don’t even feel like putting my clothes on again. The only thing I want to do is go to sleep.

You know what? Fuck it. Fuck it all.

I hang the towel back up and push out of the bathroom, utterly naked, finding Kane standing near the window, looking out at the town. By the time he glances over at me, I’m already in bed, the sheets pulled up to my neck.

“You don’t want to eat anything?” he asks me, slow in pushing away from the window.

“No,” I murmur against the pillow. “I just want to sleep.”

“As you wish.”

It’s Kane’s turn in the bathroom now, and the moment he walks in, he must spot my clothes on the floor. I hear him pause, but he doesn’t say a word, doesn’t comment on my nakedness. The only thing he does is shut the door behind him and turn on the water. By the time he comes out, I’m fast asleep.

Howard sits at the head of the board meeting, where I should be sitting. Cooper Enterprises is my company now, after all—but the man shows no signs of getting up and relinquishing the chair. Everyone’s attention is on him, not me. I stand at the far end of the table, trying to speak, but no words are coming out.

He’s talking about financial incentives, meanwhile I’m trying to say anything and failing.

My hand curls into a fist, and I slam it on the table to get his attention, and just like that, every single pair of eyes in the room flick to me, even Howard’s.

His nostrils flare, his mouth drawing into a thin line, the action on his face creating more wrinkles. “Oh, Miss Cooper. You’re not supposed to be here. We both know it.” He tilts his gray-haired head, his brown eyes boring into me as he adds, “You’re just a dead woman walking. We both know it. You never really cared about this company anyway, so why not just sit down and let the adults do their jobs?”

I feel so angry I could flip the long table between us and lunge at him, but for some reason, I’m unable to dothat. The only thing I can do is sit down and let Howard put me in my place.

That’s when he smiles at me, and I know, deep down, I have to kill him.

Thoughts of murder are what linger after I wake in the morning. I groan as I roll over and find Kane sitting up, a remote in his hand. The TV is on; the volume is super low so I barely hear it. The TV isn’t what catches my attention, however.

It’s Kane—or, rather, the fact that he’s shirtless, all of his muscles on display as his upper back leans against the headboard. He only wears one bandage, the one over his gunshot wound. He must’ve decided to leave off the other.

His blue eyes shift to me. “Did you sleep all right?”

“I think so,” I mumble with a yawn.

“I’ll say you did, if the snoring was any indication.” He only smirks when I reach over and give him a gentle shove. It’s about all I can muster right now. “I’ll admit, it was nice to sleep in a real bed and not on that uncomfortable sofa pull-out.”

I hold the blankets against my chest as I slowly sit up. “You can say that again. What are you doing?”

“Watching the news to see if they say anything about the explosion. Might be a few days, since it’s Christmas and all.” A muscle in his jaw tenses, and he looks at me. His gaze is mostly glued to my face, though it does drop to my exposed back for a few seconds.

Right. It’s Christmas. And to think I imagined myself torturing Kane until now. How stupid I was.

“Christmas,” I repeat quietly. “This isn’t where I thought I’d be on Christmas.”

---