Chapter 20
Katy
The near-scalding, steady stream of water had washed away the grime and whatever else was stuck to my skin. I turned a few times and finally stopped, pressing shaky hands to my face. I’d already used the tiny bottle of shampoo—twice—and I needed to get out of there, but being in the stall with rust stains near the drain and uneven pressure was so different from the bathrooms in the compound that I didn’t want to leave. It was like being in a bubble, safe from reality.
Water coursed over my body, cascading off the jagged scars along my back, pooling around my feet. Lowering my hands, I looked down. The water wasn’t draining fast, causing it to gather in the bottom of the tub. The water had a pink tint to it.
I swallowed hard and turned off the faucets. Stepping out of the tub and into the steam-filled bathroom, I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around me, securing it at the top. I did my best to get the excess water out of my hair, going about it methodically. Wrap. Squeeze. Wrap. Squeeze. When that was done, I realized I had no other reason to hide in the bathroom.
And that was what I was doing. Hiding. I didn’t know why, except it felt like my insides were bruised and frayed, too exposed. We were out—we were free for now. That alone was reason to celebrate, but we were far from in the clear. There was the unknown fate of Archer, where we would go from here, and an entire life I’d left behind in Petersburg—my mom, my school, my books…
I needed to leave the bathroom before Daemon thought I passed out or something.
Clutching the top of the towel, I went into the room. Daemon was at the window, his back straight like a sentry. He turned at the waist, his gaze moving from the top of my head to my feet. The light was on beside the bed, and it was dim, but when he looked at me like that, it felt like a spotlight had been turned on me. My toes curled into the carpet.
“Feel better?” he asked, not moving from the window.
I nodded. “Much better. There may be some hot water left.”
One side of his lips curved up. “Know what date it is?” I shook my head, and he gestured at the desk. “There’s one of the day calendars on it, the kind where you tear off the pages each day. If it’s up to date, it’s August eighteenth.”
“My God,” I whispered, deeply unsettled. “I’ve been gone…we’ve been gone for practically four months.”
He said nothing.
“I knew it had been awhile, but time was so strange there. I just didn’t think it was that long. Four months…”
“Feels like forever ago, huh?”
“Yes, it does.” I inched closer to the bed. “Four months. Mom probably thinks I’m dead.”
He turned back to the window, his shoulders tensed. Several moments passed before he spoke. “I got you some clean clothes. They’re in the bag. I think you’ll appreciate the shirt.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s no biggie, Kitten.”
I bit down on my lip. “Daemon…?” He turned to me, his eyes unnaturally bright. Two beautiful green eyes. “Thank you for everything. I wouldn’t be out of there if it—”
He was suddenly in front of me, clasping my cheeks. I sucked in a startled breath as he lowered his forehead to mine. “You do not need to thank me for any of this. You would’ve never been in this situation if it weren’t for me. And you don’t need to thank me for something I wanted and needed to do.”
“This wasn’t your fault,” I told him, meaning it. “You know that, right?”
He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I’m going to clean up. There’s food in the bag, too, if you’re hungry. If not, you should try to get some rest.”
“Daemon—”
“I know, Kitten. I know.” He dropped his hands and gave me that cocky smile of his. “If anyone shows up while I’m in the shower, even Archer, you don’t let him in, okay?”
“I doubt a door would stop him.”
“That’s what the gun is for. I don’t think he’s going to screw us, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.”
He had a good point, but as I watched him grab a pair of sweats and then disappear into the fogged-over bathroom, I loathed the idea of picking up that gun again. I would if I had to. I just hoped I’d never have to again, which was silly because, more than likely, the violence of my recent everyday life was nowhere near over.
Picking up the bag, I brought it over to the bed. I sat down and started rummaging through it as the water kicked on in the bathroom. I looked up, my gaze falling to the closed door. A warm flush crept over my cheeks. Daemon was in the shower. Completely naked. I was in a towel. We were alone, for the first time in four months, in a shady motel room.
My stomach dipped.
The flush heated up, and I groaned in exasperation.
What was I doing even thinking about that kind of stuff right now? Over the course of the last couple of months, I’d heard Daemon in the shower a million times over. This wasn’t a romantic getaway at the Ritz, unless running for your lives counted as foreplay.
Shaking my head, I refocused on the bag. Inside I found a wide selection of sugary goodness, which caused me to blink back tears because I knew he’d bought that for me. God, he was considerate when I didn’t even know he was trying, when it mattered.
I pulled out the bottles of soda and got up, placing them with the chips and sugar on the desk. The tote bag brought a smile to my face. The shirt made the smile stretch in a way that felt unfamiliar, like it would crack my skin.