Page 4 of Loving Wild
“I’ll see you then.”
* * *
My brotherand his wife are both silent as I climb into the back of Jessie’s car with a now sleeping Lauren still in my arms. Cooper's eyes meet mine, his hand moving to my shoulder. “You doing okay?” he asks. I shake my head.
“Not even a little bit,” I tell him honestly. He pauses for a moment, watching me before closing the door. As I settle in for the drive home, I catch Jess looking at us through the rear-view mirror. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she mouths. I nod, then shift my eyes down to where Lauren sits curled against me and try not to lose my shit.
* * *
The house is lit up,and a couple of cars are parked on the drive when we get back. Cooper helps me out of the car, and I thank Jess for picking us up. Ryder is waiting in the open doorway but doesn’t speak as I carry a now awake Lauren past him.
“I’ve run a bath,” Jemma says as soon as I reach the top of the stairs. I don’t know who called her, but I’m grateful for her foresight as I give her a nod and keep moving in silence towards our bedroom, then straight through to the bathroom.
My arms and back are on fire, but I don’t want to let her go. I sit on the stool in the corner of the room and undress us both while still holding on to Lauren. When we’re both finally naked, I step into the tub.
With Lauren’s back against my front, I slide us both down into the water.
It’s warm and full of bubbles but does absolutely nothing to soothe or calm me.
The silence makes me feel like I’m coming out of my skin, and just when I feel like I can’t take it anymore, Lauren speaks.
“Will you wash my hair for me, please?” she whispers.
“Of course,” I reply, sitting us both up.
Using the jug I’m sure my interior designer meant to be used only for display, filled with warm bathwater, I pour it gently over her head. Lauren hands me a bottle of shampoo from the edge of the bath before pulling up her knees and wrapping her arms around them. At the same time as she tilts her face towards the ceiling, she lets out a sob.
Reaching my arm around her middle, I slide it between her belly and her raised legs and pull her closer towards me. She has a large purple bruise on her shoulder, and my throat burns as I stare at it.
“He pissed on me . . .”
“What?” I ask in confusion.
“It wasn’t blood in my hair. It was piss.” Her voice trembles as she talks, my own lodged somewhere it can’t escape from.
“He punched me to the ground, and while I was down, he kicked me, he stamped on my fingers, and he pissed on me. It wasn’t blood in my hair, it was piss . . .”
Her words become distorted, the room tilts, and my entire body vibrates with white-hot rage. I don’t know what to do, how to process what she’s telling me, and how it makes me feel. I have no fucking clue what it is I need to do first.
“What—what are you doing? Gabe!”
I ignore her.
I climb out of the bath.
I go to the wardrobe and pull on some clothes.
I hear her sob. I hear her call my name.
I leave through the sliding doors that lead to the deck from my bedroom to look for the man who’s done this to us.
* * *
I head straightto Lauren’s old place. There’s a police car sitting on the corner as I turn into her street. The house is in darkness, and I assume, if East was home, he’d have been arrested by now, so I leave. I visit every pub and bar in the area and swing into the car parks of a few hotels and motels. I’ve no idea what car he drives, but I’ll sniff that fucker out.
Pulling over, I leave my engine running and now sit here staring out towards the bay as I contemplate my next move.
I need a drink. I need to stop feeling so fucking useless, so churned up inside, so out of control.
