Page 54 of His Relentless Angel

“What the fuck?” I pull out of her sloppy wet pussy, scared shitless that I’ve made her bleed or worse. Her thighs are slick all the way down to her knees—without a hint of red, though. I lift her from the bed and spin her in my arms, cradling the back of her head. “Are you ok? Please, god, tell me you’re ok. That that’s not—that I didn’t make you—” I can’t breathe. “The baby?”

I am freaking the fuck out, trembling as hard as she is, and my knees go weak. I’ll never forgive myself if I caused her to lose the—my knees go out, and I crash to the floor, landing hard on my back with Bailey on top of me since I’m still holding onto her so tight.

“Baby,” I croak out.

Bailey scrambles up my body, cradling my face with both hands. “Isaiah, Isaiah! Hey, it’s ok, love.” She shakes my head, then lightly slaps my cheek a few times to get me to focus on her. “The baby’s ok, I promise!”

I try to sit up. “But you—”

“Squirted when I came. I’ve read about it before. It was incredible,” she says with hugely rounded eyes.

My head thumps back against the carpet, and I cry and fucking cry and cry some more while clutching her to my chest. I don’t know when I last cried this hard—probably on the rough drive to Austin right after dropping off Bailey’s letter.

“Love,” Bailey says, her chin quivering. She presses her lips to mine, whispering love and Isaiah and everything’s ok. I wrap my arms tighter around her, thanking god that I haven’t hurt her or our baby. She lays her cheek on my shoulder, caressing the side of my face.

Bailey eventually stands and helps me to sit up. Once I’m on my feet, she pulls the navy comforter back to the foot of the bed and motions for me to lay down on my back. I reach for her, but she says, “Hold on.”

She hands me a new bottle of water from the mini fridge, then hurries into the bathroom and returns with a wet washcloth. Bailey sits back on her heels next to me and starts with my face after removing my glasses and setting them on the nightstand. She wipes away my tears with the warm cloth, then trails it down my heated body, which is starting to cool under her slow ministrations. It’s such an…experience…having her tenderly attend to me, whispering how much she loves me while she cleans my thighs the way I usually clean hers after we’ve had sex.

Once done, she climbs off the bed and takes the washcloth to the bathroom. On her return, she flicks off the overhead light and slides in next to me, and I help to pull the comforter up. Bailey cuddles close to my side, hiking her knee up over my thighs with her head resting on my shoulder. I’m asleep in seconds.

* * *

It’s cold when I awaken a few hours later, alone in bed. I’m instantly alert, sitting up and blindly reaching for my glasses in the dark before I turn on the faded gold wall sconce above the nightstand, bathing the room in dim yellow lighting. The thunderous beat of my heart eases when I see Bailey’s things are still here, including the orange nightgown, which is strangely balled up in the small garbage pail next to the mini fridge, but where the hell is she?

The bathroom door is closed, no light illuminating the crack at the bottom where it meets the carpeted floor, but there’s nowhere else she could be. “Bailey?” I push it open slowly, and there’s my love, sitting in the dry combo bathtub and shower, wearing one of the hotel-provided bathrobes, hugging her knees in the dark. I flip on the too-bright light to find her face buried in the white fluffy material of the robe, her shoulders shaking silently.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” I crash to the tile by the tub and try to tip her head up. Her two Dutch braids are a mess now, and she turns to lay her cheek on her knees, facing the wall. My hands flutter around her, thinking the worst. “Baby, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” she says quietly. She makes a little gasping sound that has more fear pounding through my veins. “I’m sorry I keep doing things that I have to apologize for. I don’t know why I can’t control myself.”

“Bailey…” I try to lift her out of the bathtub, and she resists me, shaking her head until I back off, though I leave a hand on her shoulder. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“Don’t try to make me feel better. It’s my fault.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The things I do to you. The things I make you do and say. You should—” What were once silent tears turn to choking sobs, and Bailey covers her face with her hands. Her words are muffled, but I can just make it out when she says, “Your brother is right. You should leave me.”

“Hell no, I’m not leaving you!” I gain my feet and scoop her from the tub, banding my arms around her like a cage so she can’t fight me off. I settle onto the edge of the bed with her curled on my lap, kissing her everywhere I can reach until she’s slipping her arms over my shoulders and holding me just as tight with her face pressed to the crook of my neck while she sobs.

And there I am, crying twice in one night. “Please, baby, please tell me what’s going on. Why would you think I should leave? I could never do that…not to you or me. I wouldn’t survive it,” I whisper, echoing what she told me the first night we were together in Austin.

“I keep…my schemes…and you hate them…and you…you…I’m sorry, Isaiah. I’m so sorry.” She kisses my neck, her tears wetting my bare skin. “I love you.” She pauses, then whispers with mourning, “But you have to leave. You deserve to be with someone better than me.”

“No, baby, I’m not leaving you,” I say firmly, almost shaking her in my arms. “Get that through your head, Bailey. I’m. Not. Leaving. You. Ever.”

She shoves against me and stumbles to her feet, breaking my heart at the sight of her swollen, reddened eyes. “Then I have to do it for you!” She presses her hands to her chest. “There’s something wrong with me, and I keep hurting you because I can’t control myself! You’re perfect, and you deserve so much better—”

I’m on my feet in a second, reaching for her, and she dances back.

“—better than someone who…who coerces you into a relationship you never wanted and doing sexual things that you don’t want to do!” She palms her belly over her robe. “I trapped you, and your baby deserves a better mother than someone disgusting like me!” Bailey sways and falls to her knees, burying her face in her hands as she drops her forehead to the floor, shrinking in on herself as she weeps with more sorrow than I ever thought possible.

Chills work their way down my spine, and I want to vomit thinking about the way she views herself. I kneel on the floor in front of her, leaning down and trying to pull her hands away from her face. “I love you so damn much, Bailey, and you deserve the world! There is nothing disgusting about you. Nothing! And you’re going to be the best mother. The absolute best.” Tears blur my vision. “You’re loyal and love unconditionally. Our baby will know that, feel that, and I couldn’t have picked a better mother or partner. Please, baby, please believe me.”

She shakes her head. “I hate myself so much,” she says, almost too low for me to hear.

I’ve never been more scared in my life. “No, no, don’t say that, baby, don’t.” She’s too worn out to give me any more fight when I pull her off the floor and cradle her as I climb into the middle of the bed, facing each other on our sides. I hold onto her for dear life, tucking her into my chest with my chin above her head. “Don’t ever think that.” I don’t know what else to do. I’ve never felt so helpless.

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