Page 78 of Blindsided

“Tills…” Matthew’s hesitant voice comes through the door. “Are you okay?”

I haven’t been able to find my voice since we left the scene over an hour ago. When we got back to Desmond’s, I sat down on his couch and tried to reconcile that only hours before I had been kidnapped by my stalker. Nothing felt real at that moment, and I needed to do something. I had to get away from the silent stares Matthew and Desmond were exchanging while I sat there in a daze.

Now, here I am, watching myself in the mirror and trying to summon enough energy to get in the shower.

The door slowly creaks open. Matthew’s head peaks around the frame, and the sheepish expression on his face makes my lips curl up at the side.

“Say the word and I’ll leave you alone. I just…”

I tilt my head for him to come into the bathroom. Being alone right now probably isn’t the best idea anyway. I hold my hand out to him and sigh with relief when he wraps his arms around my shoulders, his chest pressing into my back.

I take in his tall frame standing behind me. His eyes are as tired as mine are. His shoulders are tense, despite the gentle way he’s holding me. He seems just as wrecked as I am, and when I think about how awful it would have been to know he was in danger and not be able to do anything about it… I squeeze his arms just a little bit tighter. He drops his forehead on the top of my head, and we stand there in silence, relishing in the comfort of being together after everything that’s happened.

I turn my head, making him pull away. “Shower with me?” The words are whispered, but it’s all I needed to say. He helps me undress and then swiftly removes his own clothes.

Under the steamy water, he washes my hair and lathers me in soap. I had every intention of scrubbing my skin until it was raw. I thought it would be the only way I’d ever feel clean again. Turns out, having Matthew’s hands on me is doing more than anything I could’ve done for myself.

We stay under the water until it begins to lose its warmth. I tilt my head up to look at Matthew. My eyes beg him to kiss me, to remind me I’m still alive and that this isn’t just a dream.

His palms cup my face, and his mouth presses against mine. This kiss is the gentle reconnection I desperately need. It’s the proof that I’m still alive, and while I may not be okay right now, I know I will be as long as Matthew is by my side.

“I love you, pretty girl,” he whispers.

“I love you more.”

“Not possible.” He huffs out a laugh. We get out of the shower and dry off. The silence between us is no longer fraught with tension. It seems our moment of vulnerability was needed for both of us to feel solid again.

After we’re dressed, we climb into bed together. With Matthew’s arms around me, I begin to drift off to sleep.

It doesn’t take long for the nightmares to find me. Each one is darker than the last until my body finally gives in to the exhaustion.

* * *

My heart races as consciousness begins to seep in. The arm around my waist brings a weight of dread. I thought I was safe. Did I dream of being rescued by the police? I don’t want to open my eyes if everything I thought was real was just a figment of my imagination.

I take a deep breath, the scent of sandalwood filling my senses.

It’s that smell that gives me the strength to open my eyes. The first thing I see is a muscular chest. My eyes skate up those beautifully sculpted pecs to find blue eyes staring down at me.

Tears of relief fill my eyes. He’s truly here. I didn’t dream that he saved me.

Matthew pulls me into his chest, and the dam on my emotions breaks. I sob with silent shakes of my shoulders. Everything I’ve been holding back for the past two days is finally released in the safety of my best friend’s arms. The fear, the anger, the relief, all set free with each tear that falls from my eyes.

He doesn’t say a word as I let it all out. I have no idea how much time has passed before my tears finally begin to slow. Matthew passes me a few tissues when I’m coherent enough to clean myself up. I use one to wipe his chest clean of the mix of snot and tears.

“Sorry.” I cringe.

“There is no reason to apologize. I’d rather you get it all out with me than keep it bottled up inside. No matter how much snot you wipe on me.”

My laugh is watery, but I appreciate his humor in the face of my breakdown. “What time is it?”

“Noon.”

I bolt upright. “I was supposed to be at the police station at ten. Why didn’t anyone wake me?”

I rip the covers off my legs to get out of bed when Matthew wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me back into his chest. “Hey, take a deep breath.”

He waits for me to follow his request before continuing. “I told Desmond that you had a rough night and needed the time to sleep. He called the station and asked the detectives to come over here this afternoon, and they had no problem agreeing.”

---