Page 33 of Vengeful Union

“I haven’t stayed in this room since I left,” Rory mumbles in way of explanation. “I got out of here the moment I turned eighteen.”

I hum, sitting down on the bed.

Rory goes into the connected bathroom and brings me a towel and a cloth.

“There’s body wash and shampoo and conditioner on the rack in the shower.”

I nod slowly, looking around. I can’t wait to get under the hot spray of the water, but I feel as if Rory and I need to talk things out first.

“What does your father want out of this?”

Rory groans and sits down. “He wants revenge. On top of that, he thinks this will draw your father and brothers out. It’ll force them to make a move to negotiate for your safety.”

I bite my lip. I hope that my brothers aren’t swayed by this news. I hope they don’t make a move. I hope they trust me to get out of this on my own.

“So, it’s not like the war will ever be over,” I say quietly, my voice flat.

“I don’t know.” Rory sighs. “I’m not used to this life, Lara. I don’t know the ins and outs of it. I can’t tell you that the war will be over. All I can tell you is that I’ll do any and everything to keep you safe.”

I look at him, into his blue eyes. He seems so sincere. And I can tell that he doesn’t have much experience in this area. He’s really not part of this life. He’s an accountant, for God’s sake.

I lick my lips to wet them. “I’m going to take a shower.”

Rory doesn’t respond, and I stand up, heading into the bathroom. After just a couple of minutes, before I’ve even undressed, Rory knocks on the door.

I open it, and he pushes clothes into my arms. It appears to be a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt of his.

“I’ll buy you some new clothes.” He sounds almost embarrassed.

“This is fine.”

He looks at me for a moment longer before shutting the door slowly.

I take a deep breath, putting down the fresh clothes and peeling off my old ones, which feel covered in fear-sweat and anxiety.

I don’t ever want to see that outfit again.

Naked, I turn on the water as hot as I can stand it and step inside, letting the pressure of the spray massage my sore muscles.

I moan because it feels so good.

I’ve been so dirty and roughed up that it feels amazing to stand under the water. I stand in the shower, just letting the water beat down on my head and shoulders for a long time before I wash my body and my hair.

By the time I’m done, the water has almost run cold.

I take my time towel-drying my hair and looking at my bare face in the mirror. The makeup I had worn to the wedding has long since caked on my skin and smeared under my eyes, so it felt good to have it off.

The clothes that Rory gave me swallow me whole, but I manage to cinch the drawstring of the pants to keep them up.

It’s good enough for now, and the fabric feels soft and comforting.

When I step out of the bathroom, fresh and clean, Rory sits on the bed, staring at me. I startle, putting a hand to my chest.

“Have you been sitting there the whole time?”

He nods. “Have to keep an eye on you.”

I snort. “So, you don’t trust me, either.”

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