Page 50 of Hunted
When I’m finally standing, they move in on either side of me, both their hands on my hips and waist, avoiding my injury but holding me up. Slowly, they turn me until I’m under the spray of the water and I gasp at the sensation of the warm liquid rolling down my skin. The warmth sinks into my bones, and I close my eyes, tilting my head back and letting the water flow over me.
Someone pulls the tie out of the end of my hair, then starts to unbraid it. I’m encouraged to step forward so the water can reach down my back and soak my hair.
They start with the shampoo. And if I thought the showers they gave me at the waterfall were nice, this is a hundred times better. I don’t remember such a clean feeling before.
It takes them a while to shampoo all my hair and rinse it out, then they start with the conditioner. I think that’s my favorite part until the combs come out. They each take a small section of my hair, starting at the bottom, and working their way up as they comb through fifteen plus years of hair.
It doesn’t take as long as I thought it would, thanks to using Bower’s comb on the island, and me constantly finger combing it over the years.
Instead of rinsing it out, they add more conditioner, then turn my body so the water hits the front of me. They pull out a couple of cloths and bodywash and start cleaning me. They are extremely slow and thorough, and it drives me a little wild. But they seem to be on a mission to get me clean, not to get me to come, and I enjoy it for what it is. The first real shower I’ve had in fifteen years.
As they start to do the final rinse of my body and my hair, tears start to form in my eyes. I’d forgotten what something as simple as a shower could feel like. I always took them for granted before I was lost. But never again. Every shower or bath that I have from now on, I will truly appreciate.
They switch off the water and a towel suddenly appears, being wrapped around me before Weston gently picks me up again and carries me out of the shower. That’s when I get my first glimpse of myself.
“Stop!” I exclaim, my wide eyes staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s… me.”
It seems to take him a second to realize why I’m so stunned, but when he does, he moves closer, letting me get a good look at myself. I run my hands over my face and my hair.
“I… I don’t even recognize me.” My eyes start to blur, and when I blink them, fat tears roll down my cheeks.
“Crap shells! Why did nobody tell me I’m an ugly cryer!” I laugh as I try to wipe my tears away.
“Cause you’re not,” Weston says, kissing the top of my head. “You’re beautiful.”
I shake my head, unable to look away from myself. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to look in the mirror and not recognize the person staring back at you? My eyes… they’re similar, but not the same. I can’t believe Reece recognized me. I look so old.”
“Darla,” Reece says, surprising me when I see him leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed. “You arenotold.” He pushes off, taking a couple of slow steps towards us. “Besides, I’d recognize you anywhere.”
I pinch my lips but try to smile as he comes to stand beside us, looking at my reflection.
“You know what I see when I look at you?” I shake my head. “I see a woman who’s been through something terrible, but has come out on the other side, stronger. And she’s fucking breathtaking.” I inhale sharply at the compliment, but before I can respond, Bower chimes in from our other side.
“I see someone who’s incredibly brave and badass, who lights up any room she’s in, and is sexy as hell.” A smile pulls at my lips, and he gives me a wink.
Weston speaks next. “And I see a sweet, kind, resilient woman who’s strong as steel and refuses to ever give up. She's not just beautiful, she’s my everything.”
I swallow heavily at such strong words. I don’t get a chance to say anything back as Kingsley pipes in next. “Sweetheart.” He steps up besideReece, his hands in his jean pockets. “I’ve never met anyone as incredible as you. Everything they said, I see that, too. You’re… perfection. There is no word good enough to describe you. The fact that you want to keep me around… Well, that alone is amazing.”
I blink away my tears, feeling like I’m always crying around these guys. “You guys are too nice,” I mumble, looking down at my hands and feeling a little awkward.
“Just being honest,” Reece said, dropping some clothing on the counter beside me before turning to leave. Kingsley gives me a soft smile before he follows Reece out, pulling the bathroom door shut behind them.
I frown at the closed door. Why did it feel like Kingsley was being a little distant lately? Isn’t he my boyfriend, too? Shouldn’t he have wanted to stay in here with us?
I start to question all our interactions. I’ve only slept with Bower, but I’ve told both him and Weston that I love them. Does Kingsley know that and think I don’t love him, too? We just haven’t had the chance, with the whole mercenaries thing, then Reece showing up, then the rescue and my injury.
When did he start to pull away? Was it after I told them all the full details of what happened the day my dad died? Does he see me differently now? The words he just spoke tell a different story. But his actions don’t match, and that’s… confusing.
“Alright, Tink, let’s get you dressed,” Bower says, grabbing the nighty Reece left for me. He chuckles when he holds it up, then turns it around so we can see the front. My eyes light up in amusement. On the front is a sleeping lemur with the words‘Lemur Alone, I'm Sleeping’.
“Sweet baby lemur, that’s adorable!” I laugh, reaching for it. He moves in closer, and I feel the soft material for a moment before he lifts it over my head and pulls it down over me and my towel. It’s big enough I can push my hands through, then Weston gently sets me on my feet and pulls the towel out from underneath, all while keeping my modesty in check.
“We thought you should just wear night shirts and dresses until you’re healed. Pants might aggravate your stitches.”
