Page 145 of Torrid Love
CHAPTER 32
Dominika
It’s a little past six in the morning by the time we walk into Isobel and Rory’s Santa Monica home. We remain quiet as we followRod’s oldest brother inside the house.The weight of the tragedy silences us all.
“Let me start breakfast,” Isobel says when we enter the kitchen. “I’m sure everyone is starved.”
“Good idea,” Rory, says. “I’ll help.”
“Let me get Dom into the shower first,” Rod says.
“I’ll grab her some clean clothes,” Isobel says.
“Rod, I’ll do the same for you,” Rory says.
“We’ll leave them in the guest bedroom near the bathroom that only has a shower,” Isobel says.
“Thanks,” Rod says.
“Rod—” I’m about to tell him I’m okay, but the look on everyone’s face shuts me up.
Rod called his brothers and Loki after he called the police. They arrived at the studio in record time and stayed all night with us. When Gideon came to, the police demanded answers, but he couldn’t speak. Between my blow and Rod’s, his jaw was broken. He could only point an accusatory finger at my boyfriend. Rod simply smirked back at him. Thank God, everything was caught on camera. Images don’t lie.
Isobel consoled me while Rod talked to the police. I cried to the point where I had nothing left. It took a few hours before we were allowed to go to the hospital—there was so much to report. Paramedics had checked me out to make sure nothing was broken. I only had a few cuts and bruises. I was more terrified than anything else. Still, the police and Rod wanted me to get further medical attention. I insisted I was fine, but Rod refused to listen. He wasn’t able to ride in the ambulance with me to the hospital since he isn’t family. He rode with Roark. I rode with my surrogate parents—Rory and Isobel. The wait was excruciating, but at least I know there’s no internal damage. Rod showed up at the right time to save me. A few more minutes and Gideon would’ve gotten his filthy paws on me again.
“Come on. Let’s go,” Rod says, extending his hand.
He drags me up the stairs and down the hallway to the bathroom.
“I can take a shower by myself,” I say when he opens the door.
“I know,” he growls lightly. “I need one too,” he pauses. “And I need to hold you in my arms.” His voice is so smooth now. It’s lost its edge.
I choke back tears.
“Okay,” I nod.
He strips me of my clothes. The paramedics gave me a blanket to cover my nakedness, but Isobel came with a top. As much as I want to burn the clothes staring at me from the floor, the police asked me to hold onto them—they might be part of the police investigation.
I watch as Rod peels out of his clothes. He steps inside the shower and adjusts the water temperature. “Hop in,” he waves.
I get in and he immediately wraps his strong arms around me.
My body tenses.
I’m certain he’s going to demand an explanation, but he doesn’t.
He just holds me, kissing the back of my head.
He brushes my wet hair away from my face. “Too hot?”
“No. It’s perfect,” I say before closing my eyes.
Rod always likes to take really hot showers. I usually complain, but not today. The scalding heat makes me feel like I’m cleansing my soul.
It’s cathartic.
It’s finally over.
