Page 45 of Her Billionaire Hero
Baldwyn was thirty-five, not old but not young either. He was at his prime, physically and mentally. Any woman would be lucky to have him. And I had no right to ask him to hang on to what we had when I had no idea if I could ever get back to the person I was before I found out how profoundly I’d been brain-fucked.
“Will you be going home with me?” he asked as he looked out the window at the rising sun.
“I think I should go to my place. It’s right next door to you. But it’ll give us some breathing room.”
“I don’t need any breathing room.” I could tell how much this hurt him. “But I know that you do. My door will always be open for you. You know, just in case you want me in the middle of the night or something like that.”
I chuckled a little. “You’d be my booty-call, Baldwyn?”
“I’ll be anything you need me to be.” He turned and came to sit in the chair next to my bed.
I didn’t know what to say. I was sorry for everything. It wasn’t his fault that Preston had screwed me up. It wasn’t his fault that we’d fallen for each other and then I was dealt a shitty hand that ruined what we’d found. “Friends, no matter what, right?”
“Friends to the end,” he assured me.
“Thank you.” He had no idea how much it meant to hear him say that. “I need your friendship more than I need anything else right now.”
“No problem. You’ve got that and always will, Sloan.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Baldwyn
Sloan finally fell into what looked like a peaceful sleep once night fell. I knew so much was going on in her mind and prayed that once she began to heal, the lack of trust she now felt would begin to fade. She would need therapy to get past what Preston had done to her and her family, but at least there was something that could help her.
Playing a game on my phone, I sat in the chair beside her bed, not quite ready to sleep just yet. I’d been awake for two days so I was afraid that when I fell asleep, I would sleep like a dead man. Something told me not to take Sloan’s safety for granted. Plus, I figured they’d let her go home the next morning since her injuries had been dealt with. I could sleep then— my brothers would be around to make sure Sloan was safe.
A large part of me felt wounded by the distrust I saw in Sloan’s eyes—even distrust for me. I couldn’t blame her for feeling that way though. Preston’s manipulations were astronomical. Anyone would’ve felt the same way Sloan did after finding out just how much she’d been duped by the man.
I’d never been in a hospital for any longer than to visit a couple of friends once or twice. The daytime was busy, noisy even. But after dinner was served and the plates picked back up by the cafeteria staff, the place went quiet—an eerie quiet.
The number of nurses was cut in half, as the patients would all sleep until morning. I got up to go look out into the hallway, just to see how many people were out there.
A blue light came off the computer screen at the nurses’ station, but no one was there. They must’ve been elsewhere, doing the things night nurses had to do. The lights had been turned off in the hall. Only tiny, dim lights ran along the bottom of the walls on both sides.
Squinting, I wasn’t sure if I saw anyone sitting outside the door of what I believed was Preston’s room. The cop who was guarding him could’ve been slumped over, sleeping. Or they might’ve even moved Preston out of the hospital and into an infirmary at the jail.
An uneasy feeling came over me and I looked back at Sloan as her chest rose and fell in a slow, constant motion. I felt like I should go down to the room to check things out. Maybe even wake the cop up if he had fallen asleep.
But leaving her alone felt wrong, so I minded my own business and went back into her room, taking my seat and going back to playing the game on my cell phone. I had to trust in the police to take care of Preston. But I had an idea about how Sloan felt. It was hard to trust anyone where that man was concerned.
Putting the phone down, I took a moment to look into my own feelings. Sloan had been manipulated for years. Maybe she and I hadn’t connected in an entirely natural way at all. Maybe she saw something in me that reminded her of her ex. Or maybe I was the complete opposite—which I hoped was the truth.
What if Sloan never really loved me?
What if Sloan didn’t know how to love? What if she was incapable of loving anyone, due to how her brain had been messed with so completely? And what would that mean for us?
I knew I loved the woman as she was. But would I love the woman she would become?
The events and revelations of the last couple days would almost certainly radically change her. Something this deep and profound had to change a person. There was no way it couldn’t.
She’d carry emotional scars forever. Maybe even the best psychologists in the world wouldn’t be able to mend her poor mind. What would I do then?
Looking at her, her stitched up lips pouting as she slept, my heart melted.I love her. I really, really love her.
No matter how she changed, I instinctively knew that I would never stop loving her. The bond I had with her was strong. It felt unbreakable.
If I had to get therapy to help understand Sloan, then I’d get it. I wouldn’t leave her alone in her fight to get mentally healthy. Even if she asked me to leave her alone, I would only be a phone call away when she needed me.
