Page 57 of Bound By Pain
“He’ll figure it out,” Creed says.
“Creed’s right,” Ridley promises. “Lex just needs Fate to kick him in the ass. He’s too stubborn for his own good.”
“Come on, butterfly. You’re freezing. Let’s go warm up in the shower.” I’m shifted into Orion’s arms, the other two leaving lingering touches on my arms and back as I’m carried into the bathroom.
Orion settles me onto the counter, giving me a sad smile and reaching over to turn the shower on to heat. He’s methodical as he strips me, focused on caring for my tattered emotional state.
Beneath the warm spray, his hands work over my scalp, following my hair routine as I direct him. It’s nice to feel so cared for. To be the center of someone’s world and know they chose to be here.
“Some of us fight Fate harder than others,” he tells me, “but things work out in the end.”
“It’s hard to believe when he refuses to acknowledge the connection between us. Most of the time.”
Orion hums, tilting my head back to rinse the soap from my hair. His fingers brush over Ridley’s mark, then Creed’s, reminding me of the bonded who chose me. I know he has, too. Even without his mark on my skin, he’s shown me where his heart lies. I’m his as irrevocably as he is mine.
“I can’t speak for Lex, because I don’t know him, but no matter where things go between you two, you aren’t alone.”
Returning to work feels incredible. A steady to-do list and tasks to focus on help keep the bad memories away. I feel normal when I’m here.
Or I would if everyone weren’t walking on eggshells around me. Acting like I’m going to fall apart if they speak too loudly or say the wrong thing.
Stepping off the elevator, I walk down the long hall leading to the studios. Orbital Somatic is working with Manny to record new songs for the album they are releasing next spring, and we are due for a face-to-face check-in.
Slipping the door open, I collapse onto the couch behind Manny, giving him a lopsided smile when he side-eyes me. He looks as exhausted as I feel, which is weird because he’s always very adamant about getting good sleep and a healthy work-life balance.
My eyes slip closed as I listen to Caleb and the others go through their songs. When he stumbles over the first few words, I know they’ve realized I’m here, but I motion for them to continue. A break while they finish won’t harm anything.
Vibrations in my pocket have me digging my phone out. I peek at the screen with one eye and sigh when I see a text from Shiloh. Like my other mates, he was reluctant to agree to allow me to return to work. Apparently, spending almost two weeks at home wasn’t enough.
Thankfully, Soulbound’s human resources team accepted my doctor’s note and allowed me to come back. I would have gone out of my mind, stuck at home for another week.
Shiloh: Your schedule is clear from 1 to 2. I would like you to join me in my office for lunch.
Several seconds pass before it vibrates with another message. A single word that has me rolling my eyes. ‘Please.’ As if he is giving me a choice. I don’t respond, but mentally remind myself to head up there this afternoon. I do not want him to track me down, which I know he will do if I don’t show up.
Orbital Somatic finishes the song they were recording, and Manny shuts off the sound link before spinning in his chair. “How are you doing, chica?”
Shrugging my shoulders, I force myself to sit up. “I’m here. Alive and free. What about you? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so damn tired before.”
The slightest blush crawls up his face, tinting his russet skin a shade darker. “Nothing you need to worry about. Life likes to throw unexpected situations our way, does it not?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Congrats, by the way,” he comments, nodding toward the bite marks on my throat. Now I’m the one blushing.
The studio door opens, and all five members of Orbital Somatic spill out. Their drummer, Lee, practically rushes me, dropping to the floor beside where I’m sitting. “Fates, Bea! We’re so sorry!”
With a soft sigh, I reach out and pat his hat-covered head. “You all know what happened in Portland wasn’t your fault, right?”
“We should have looked after you,” Jeremy, the band’s bassist, comments.
All five of them look distraught, guilt and regret shining in their eyes. Empathy comes in spades when you are as in touch with your emotions as they are.
“If they couldn’t have gotten to me at the hotel, they would have taken me somewhere else. It truly isn’t anyone’s fault except the men who kidnapped me.” Standing, I put my hands on my hips and meet each of their eyes, letting my badass manager persona surface. “No apologies, no guilt. We are here to boost your band into stardom, not rehash shitty events that we can’t change. Take fifteen, sort yourselves out, then meet me in the manager’s office upstairs.”
Grumbled acceptances fill the air as they leave. I deflate when the door closes behind them, skin crawling and memories trying to push to the front of my mind.
“Now that you are back, talk to Caleb.” I turn to look at Manny, raising one brow in question. “I don’t know if it is his guilt over your abduction or something else that has happened, but he’s been acting weird since they returned from the charity show. Quieter, more withdrawn. His head isn’t in the game.”
