Page 44 of King of Hearts

Setting her down, I crouched in front of her.

Her hands immediately went to her face, blocking my view of whether she was crying or upset.

“Hey.” I tugged on her hand.

She sniffed, and I realized her body was shaking still.

“Take a sip of water, here…” I handed her my water glass, unsure if that would bug her or not. She let go of her face and accepted it, draining it completely. The darkness in the room kept her face shadowed, but the lights from outside allowed me to see the way she seemed to curl in on herself.

“What the hell happened down there?” I asked quietly. The image of her being held by the hair was going to haunt me for the rest of my life.

She sniffed again and leveled her chin.

“Don’t you have to go and check on things or something?”

I shook my head. “Not until you talk to me.”

“I don’t want to talk.”

“You owe me something.” I carefully ran my hands up her thighs, just so I had an excuse to touch her. I was shaking too, although I hid it better than her. What if I’d been too late? I couldn’t even protect her in my own fucking house. How pathetic.

“I owe you nothing, Juan. You said this wouldn’t work out and now you’re claiming me? What the hell?” Her voice cracked on the tail end of her tirade, and it nearly made me wince.

“I needed to keep you safe,” I whispered, bringing her knuckles to my mouth.

“Why did you have to keep me safe—why do you care?”

I paused, unsure if I should say it, but ultimately, I wanted to know. “Earlier tonight, I asked you to ask me why this arrangement wouldn’t work, but you wouldn’t. Why?”

Her pink tongue darted out, wetting her cracked lips. There was reluctance in her eyes, and I wanted to know why she didn’t want to just come out and tell me.

“I’m exhausted. I really don’t want to talk. I’m freaking out about my baby…I just want to get this blood off of me and go to sleep.” A few tears slipped down her face along with her admission, and it cracked something inside of me open.

Standing, I pulled her by the hand and walked her toward my bathroom.

“Can you sleep in one of my shirts?” Our feet hit the marble floor and I went over toward the bath, but Taylor stopped me.

“A shower is fine, and yes, a clean shirt will work…but are you…?” She paused, her eyes darting back and forth over my face. “Are you sleeping somewhere else, or…?”

“I don’t know yet.” I ducked my head into the shower and turned the chrome knob to the left. I grabbed a clean towel for her then left her alone in the bathroom.

Now that she was in the shower, my heart wouldn’t stop pounding, reminding me how close I had come to losing her. Even if he didn’t kill her, he would have taken her. The image of how she looked that first second…the way he gripped her by the hair…fuck.

I stormed back into the bathroom and found her crying while crouched on the shower floor, the water pounding into her back. Opening the glass door, I walked in, shutting us in the steam box, still in just my boxers, and pulled her into my chest. Swiping her wet hair out of her face, I cradled her in my arms while we sat on the bath tiles, the heat pouring over us while my girl let out her demons. There was something unhinged about her tears, like she’d pulled out a hidden box that hadn’t been revealed in years and now she was shuffling through all the pain that had been locked away.

It was with slow clarity that I realized there was more to Taylor’s life than I knew…in fact, I hardly knew her at all. The events of the night had begun to frame her in an entirely different light. All of our interactions, the way she seemed so selfish…if she had grown up with Ivan Varga as a father, then by all rights she should have been way more deranged and screwed up than she was. She was good…her soul was beautiful, but now I was finally seeing that she wasn’t just a flower; she was one who’d constantly been covered in dirt, with limited light. She should have been withered, dead; instead, she was vibrant, and I…

Something in my chest expanded as I continued to wipe her hair out of her face. I couldn’t speak to her about my emotions or my feelings because it would ruin everything…like it had that night she pulled away from me. Instead, I spoke to her in Spanish and hoped it would heal the brokenness cracking her apart.

“Cuando pienso en ti, no puedo respirar.”When I think of you, I can’t breathe.

“Te has llevado la oscuridad que habitaba en mi.”You’ve stolen the darkness out of me.

“Perdóname si trato de aferrarme a él un poco más, alma mía. Lo necesito para protegerlos a ambos.”Forgive me if I try to cling to it a little longer, my soul. I need it to protect you both.

I held her until the water ran cold then kissed her forehead and helped her up. Steam filled the room and clouded the glass, which helped to distract me from how naked Taylor was, and how much her belly had grown in the last few months. She had no stretch marks, which didn’t surprise me; somehow this girl didn’t have to endure much when it came to this pregnancy. She still painted her toenails with ease and didn’t have swollen ankles or cravings that I had noticed.

“Here.” I opened a large white towel and wrapped it around her back. Right as I tried to walk past her, she gripped my wrist, stopping me.

---