Page 35 of Hiding Rose
Chapter Ten
I picked up my crutches from where I had thrown them when I got home. My shower over, I planned to climb into bed and forget today ever happened. Tomorrow would be soon enough to deal with the Jarrett situation. Never would be soon enough to deal with the Sawyer situation. I wiped my cheek on my shoulder, angry the tears wouldn’t stop falling. I couldn’t even say why I was crying. Maybe it was anger and maybe it was sadness, more likely it was both.
I shut the light off to the bathroom on my way by and crutched into the kitchen for some water. I turned the light on over the sink, its bulb barely bright enough to illuminate the counter and table, but what glow it did offer afforded me a full view of the rose bouquet. My heart contracted again and I threw the crutches down, using the counter to walk to the table, falling into a chair, and pulling the flowers near me. The yellow one he had picked earlier still stuck out above the rest and I took it again, crushing it to my chest while I let out the sobs I’d been holding in since I left the beach. I had already lost my old life and my child to this maniac, and now I’m going to lose my future, too. If he sent the flower today then he knows where I am. It’s only a matter of time before he stops sending dead flowers and follows through with the threat in his poem.
My voice was hoarse as I sobbed, the flower scrunched against my face. “What am I going to do?” I cried, my hair sticking to my face as I tipped my head to the ceiling.
All the tears I didn’t cry the last months poured from me, for my baby and for the pain I dealt with daily. There would be no way out of this until he finally came for me and ended the existence I had managed to eke out over the past months.
Mid-sob the lock clicked on my door and a voice called out. “I’m coming in, Rose. It’s Sawyer.”
I laid my head down on the table, crushing the flower between my cheek and my arm, but I didn’t care. Why was he here and what did he want? Wasn’t his rejection on the beach enough for him? Did he really have to come back and offer more? His hand touched my back and I jumped away, falling off the chair onto the floor into the darkest part of the room. I couldn’t speak, the sobs were stealing my breath and the pain was too great to bother with niceties.
“Okay, sweetheart, we’re going to get you on the bed,” he said, bending and scooping me up. My arms hung limp at my side until he sat me on the bed, and I rolled into the pillows, propping my leg up and curling my face into the downy softness. He left me then and I heard him in the kitchen running water and opening the fridge. I fought to get the tears under control before I passed out from lack of oxygen.
The bed depressed and a cool washrag was held to my cheek. He moved it up to my forehead and then back down, cooling my overheated face. He lifted my hand and rested it on the cloth, then sat next to me stroking my hair while the sobs slowly diminished to occasional hiccups.
“It’s okay, Rose,” he whispered, my eyes fluttering shut at the sound of his voice. “I’m not going to leave you until you’re feeling better.”
What he didn’t say was he would leave me, just not right now. I sighed and then took a shuddering breath, reminding myself I’d lived this long without him. I didn’t need him to survive or thrive. Though it hurt to think I would never share a meal with him or joke around about seafood ever again.
“How did you get in here?” I asked. My voice was barely a whisper, but at least I didn’t sound like a ninety-year-old smoker the way I expected I would, after crying for fifteen minutes.
“I followed you up here, but when I knocked you wouldn’t answer. I got worried, so I ran all the way to Kate’s house and told her what happened. She gave me the master key to get in. I already texted her you are upset, but okay.”
I used the rag to wipe my eyes. “I was taking a shower. I didn’t hear anyone knocking.”
He brushed some hair off my forehead. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain. I was worried you had fallen or were sick.”
I nodded weakly. “I’m good. You can go. Thanks for checking on me.”
He ran his warm hand up and down my back. “I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. I want to know why you ran away from me on the beach.”
His presence was unnerving and his nearness made it nearly impossible to breathe. I was fighting the knowledge I wore nothing but a t-shirt, sports bra, and running shorts. I closed my eyes, working out a way to get him to leave without insulting him again. He came back, which was more than I ever expected, and I didn’t want to take a chance he never comes back again.
I held the washrag and twisted the corner as I spoke. “I left because I could see the disgust on your face. The entire time I spoke you sat there closed off, a look of…of…pity and disbelief splashed across your face, and your hands in angry fists. I had to leave,” I whispered, another tear running down my cheek. He caught it with his thumb and then rested his hand on my waist.
“You’re wrong. While I admit I was disgusted and in disbelief, it wasn’t at you. I was angry a man could be violent and angry enough to almost take your life when you were trying to do the right thing. My hands were in fists because I was using every last bit of willpower I had in me not to take you in my arms and comfort you.”
I glanced up and held his gaze. His eyes told me he wasn’t being dishonest. “But you’re disappointed in me. I get it. I was disappointed in myself.”
He laughed sadly and caressed my cheek. “No, I’m not disappointed in you, Rose. We all have situations in our past we wish we had thought out better. People have casual sex all the time. It’s not like it was a one-night stand and you didn’t know the guy. You’d been dating for months, you were taking the next step in the relationship.”
“Maybe, except I didn’t know the guy. I didn’t know him at all and now I’ve paid a heavy price,” I whispered.
“Rose, listen to me. We all make mistakes. He pretended to be someone he wasn’t. That’s not on you; it’s on him. Men like Jarrett disgust me, but you do not disgust me. Do you understand me? I didn’t take you in my arms because I feared trying to relate a story about one man while in the arms of another would only make it harder. It was selfish of me, but I had to know what we are dealing with. I didn’t want to distract you from the events by touching you. I was afraid I would scare or hurt you.”
His hand strayed to my hip and I closed my eyes when his head swiveled to look at my leg. “My God,” he whispered when he saw the damage done by Jarrett’s bullet. A sob escaped my throat, even if no tears fell. I knew there would be a day when he would see it, but I hadn’t prepared myself for it to be tonight.
He was behind me, his arms sliding under me and lifting me until I rested on his chest. He leaned against the headboard and held me, his hands smoothing the hair from my face and his lips kissing the top of my head.
“I had no idea,” he whispered, his arms tightening on me protectively. “I’m without words to describe how truly sorry I am, sweetheart.”
I relaxed into him, the heat of his chest like a soothing blanket. “The doctors said I’m lucky to be alive. The bullet tore through the bone and bounced around inside my leg before it came to rest in my groin. If it had been a little further up or the bullet had hit the bone on a different trajectory, it could have killed me by bouncing around in my abdomen. They did the best they could to repair the leg, but the damage to the nerves and bone was severe.”
He kissed my forehead again and left his lips there. “I can see how severe. Now all the issues you have with it make sense. I wish I could take all the pain away, Rose, I really do.”
“I’m okay, Sawyer. Kate and Gideon brought me here, and spared no expense to make sure I recovered. They’re protecting my parents in Miami and me here. I don’t deserve all they’ve done for me.”
