Page 40 of No Fear
She’d twisted her hair up into a knot, keeping it out of the water. Several long, dark strands had slipped free and curled around her face. She must have used some of his body-wash because the room smelled like him and bubbles had formed around her body, shielding her from his sight.
“Thank you.”
“Feeling a little better?”
She nodded.
“You want something to drink? I don’t have wine but I could grab you a beer.”
“No, thank you.” Rachel looked away from him, to the place where she was trailing her hand through the bubbles, “I don’t drink.”
“Oh…” He shrugged, “Okay. No problem. There’s tea too.”
“Maybe when I get out.”
“Okay.” He nodded, knowing that was his cue to leave her alone no matter how much he wanted her to ask him to stay, “I’ll be out here when you’re done. Take your time and relax.”
Remy shut the door softly behind him and then released a rough breath. After spending far too long staring at the bathroom door, imagining Rachel’s naked body in that tub, bubbles sliding over her damp skin, he forced himself to walk away. Barging back in there now and doing all of the things he’d imagined doing to her would only make it harder for them to simply talk. And they had to talk.
There was so much he needed to know. Colt was right. He didn’t know nearly enough about her. He didn’t know enough to keep her safe.
Remy went to the kitchen and pulled a beer out for himself. He cursed as he popped the top and downed a long pull from the cold bottle. He hadn’t even known that she didn’t drink. Because why would he? It wasn’t as if they’d ever gone out for drinks or met up at the bar. He’d never even taken her on a date. That hard truth made him take another long pull off his beer as he wondered why it was she didn’t drink in the first place.
His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out with his free hand, setting the beer aside as he saw the message was from his brother. Colt, just checking in, asking if there was anything he could do. He sighed as he typed back a quick message that if he wanted to help he could get Lincoln to talk to them about Rachel’s brother.
As he was typing, another message came in and he snorted. There was no way Colt was aware his girlfriend was simultaneously texting him. He read through Skylar’s message quickly. She’d supplied something helpful at least, the fact that Rachel had admitted to her and Jemma that Craig abused her before he showed up and scared her. Remy punched out another thank you for the information and promised Skylar he was going to help Rachel however he could.
Since he still had his phone in his hands, he also typed up a quick message to Ford. Out of all the Bomar cousins, Ford was the one he would trust explicitly with Rachel’s safety. Ford was a good guy no matter what his genes or his rap sheet said. He was smart and he had decades of experience sitting in the background, silently watching and listening since his twin always took center stage. If anyone in that salon had seen or heard anything that might help him figure out what, exactly, Craig had said to make Rachel go nearly catatonic again, it would be Ford.
As he waited for his cousin to respond, Remy grabbed a cup from the cabinet and the jug of tea out of the fridge. He broke a tray of ice and then poured the brown liquid over it in the big glass. Instead of finishing off his beer, he tossed it in the trash and repeated the gesture, pouring a glass of tea for himself too. As much as he’d like to down another beer, or three, and go numb, he had to stay alert. He needed his wits about him when he sat down to talk to Rachel. He needed to be able to focus.
But nearly thirty minutes later when Rachel hesitantly walked into the living room, he knew he’d made a grave error in judgement. He was never going to be able to focus on her words with her looking like that. She’d let her hair back down and it curled casually around her shoulders. Her face, make-up free, made her look even younger but her near nakedness negated her innocence.
Shit. He swallowed a curse and gripped his glass of tea to keep from getting up and going to her. She’d decided to wear his shirt after all. His shirt and nothing else from the looks of it. He couldn’t tell if she’d donned panties or a bra but for the sake of his sanity, he hoped she had.
“Hey.” She tugged at the hem of the oversized shirt that looked more like a dress on her, “Y-you didn’t give me pants.”
“I don’t have any that would fit you.”
“Oh… well, I mean, the shirt is probably long enough… if you don’t mind that I’m not wearing pants.”
“I don’t mind lookin’ at your legs at all.” He pulled out the seat closest to his at the small kitchen table, “I poured you a glass of tea. Come sit down.”
Rachel started chewing her bottom lip but did as he said. She shuffled closer and slid into the empty chair. Instantly her hands closed around the glass of tea and she took a long drink, staring at him over the rim. She looked so damn young and so damn fragile like this that it broke his heart. She was too damn young to be scared all the time and he knew a thing or two about fear like that.
As they sat there, in silence, neither of them willing to speak first, he realized what he had to do. His throat felt tight and his stomach tightened with anxiety but he swallowed hard and reasoned that it was the only way. He would have to tell her at some point and he might as well do it now. At least if he told her now and she reacted badly, he would know for sure where they stood and if he told her now and it helped her to open up and come clean with him too, then it would be worth it to relive his own horrors.
“Rach…”
“I-I know you have questions.” She cut him off with a shake of her head, “I’m just… I sat in there, trying to figure out where to start and I-I-I don’t know what to say.”
“You’re right. I do have questions, a lot of questions.” He reached out and took her hand, “But I’m not going to push you to tell me anything you’re not ready to tell me. I wish I could but I just can’t.”
“But… why?”
“Because I know what it’s like to be scared, Rachel. I know what it’s like to be hurt by the people that are supposed to protect you and I know what it’s like when you think you can’t tell anyone, that there’s nobody who would be on your side or who could possibly understand.” He squeezed her hand and didn’t speak again until she met his gaze, “What you need to know is that Idounderstand, better than you think, and no matter what you tell me, I’m not going anywhere.”
Rachel’s bottom lip trembled slightly, “Remy, you don’t know…”
