Page 44 of Protected from Malice
“Ah, Eden.” He swallows hard. “I’m so fucking sorry. I wish… You could have told me.”
“What could you have done, Rafe? Nothing.”
“That’s not?—”
“I filed a police report. I found a counselor. Signed up for self-defense classes. And I moved as soon as I could.”
Rafe grimaces. “To a house with an attached garage.”
“Yes.”
“What about your mom? Did you talk to her?”
I shake my head. “You know how she is. She’s doing okay now, but she’s still on medication for depression and anxiety. If I told her, she would have been so upset?—”
“Eden.” Rafe interrupts me. “So you’ve been carrying this on your own for two years?”
“I see a counselor…”
“That’s not enough. You need support from your family. Your friends. From—” His mouth snaps shut. “Just… shit.”
His hands flex into fists.
“I’m sorry, Rafe.” I swipe at my wet cheeks. “I didn’t want to bring this up. But if it’s him…”
Fire flashes in his eyes. “Donotapologize, Eden. For anything.” A beat later, his shoulders sag. “What can I do? How can I help?”
Aside from going back in time, I’m not sure there’s anything he can do.
Except.
As I look over at the stretch of mattress between us, I realize Idoknow what would help.
Before I can second guess myself, I blurt out, “Could I have a hug?”
Surprise flickers across Rafe’s face. “Of course. But… I don’t want to make things worse. Trigger you.”
“You couldn’t.” And it’s the truth. Despite the banked danger inside him, I know Rafe would never,everdo anything to hurt me.
I trust him.
As Rafe shifts closer to me, he says, “If I start to make you uncomfortable, tell me right away. I mean it, Eden.”
“You held me before,” I reply. “At my house. And the other hotel. You held my hand. I was fine. You’re not going to make me uncomfortable.”
Although.
Am I makinghimuncomfortable? Does he not want to hug me? “If you don’t want to, it’s okay.”
His face jerks with shock. “Shit, Eden.”
Then he pulls me into his arms.
His embrace is achingly gentle, but reassuringly strong.
One hand comes to my back, moving in slow circles. His other cups the back of my head.
His breath feathers across my hair as he murmurs, “Of course I want to.”
