Page 57 of Hunted Innocence

A few moments later, we’re settled in bed, and I allow myself to hold her. I will always allow myself to hold her and kiss her forehead. Nothing more. She will have peace. She will have a lifetime of peace, and I’m going to be the one to give it to her.

NADINE

Rolling over,I reach out before I even open my eyes. I already know that I’m alone. I didn’t need to see it for myself. Sliding my hand along the cool sheets where Grayson has been sleeping, I know that he was not here for long.

Every single day has been the same routine. Grayson comes home from work, we eat dinner together, we watch a movie and then go to bed. He slips out of bed at some time in the middle of the night, and then I wake up alone and start all over again.

It’s been weeks, and not once have I woken up with him beside me.

Tomorrow is Monday morning and my first day back at work. My bruising is almost completely gone, my face appears somewhat normal, especially with makeup, and I need to get out of the apartment for a few days.

No, I need to get out of Grayson’s apartment altogether. Clearly, he’s just here to ensure that I’m physically healing. He’s made it very clear with his words and actions that there will be nothing else.

And as much as that hurts, I need to accept the fact that it is exactly what he wants. And what he wants is to be done with me, but he doesn’t want to hurt my feelings. He’s been very kind. He’s ensured that I’m safe and fed. He’s held me, he’s kissed my forehead, and he has stroked my hair.

But I am not made of glass.

I have healed from Landon Tate before, and I will again.

So I’ll be moving back home.

It’s time to move forward and create the life I deserve because I deserve to live a good life. One where the man who is in my life wants to be with me. Doesn’t see me as dirty or damaged—who wants me.

I take a long shower before I get dressed, curl my hair, and put on a thicker-than-usual layer of makeup in an effort to coverup some of my bruising. After slipping on a skirt and blouse, I slide my feet into my high heels and take in my reflection.

Lucille was nice enough to go to my apartment over the weekend and grab some clothes for me to wear to the office, and I have to admit, she does not play when it comes to styling. I wouldn’t have put this skirt and blouse together or added the shoes, but it’s a damn good look.

My skirt is a gray pencil skirt that is high-waisted and hugs me down to just below my knees. I usually wear a black button-down top with it and black heels, but she chose a navy high-neck sleeveless bodysuit, a thin black belt, and nude pumps.

I feel like a badass in this.

Grabbing my purse, I start to head toward the door when there is a knock on the other side. I stand stock-still. My body fills with anxious energy. I want to turn around and run, but I can’t do anything. I’m frozen.

“Nadine, it’s Brody,” my brother’s voice calls out.

It’s as if my body is suddenly freed from its cemented place on the floor. Rushing over to the front door, I look through the small peephole and see Brody standing there, wearing his normal uniform of his cut, jeans, and boots.

Taking a step backward, I wrench the door open. I have only seen him once since everything happened, and it was a tense meeting, but as always, Brody was kind and caring toward me, as he always is. But I can sense that he feels guilty, and he pities me. Two things I absolutely hate.

He has no reason to feel guilty. He had his own traumas to deal with as a kid and teenager, as a young man. It was not his responsibility to save me, and trust me, he did enough of that when we were kids. It’s not something I ever expected him to do as we got older.

He couldn’t have stopped the marriage between me and Landon even if he had wanted to. And he couldn’t have stoppedLandon from hurting me a few weeks ago, either. He was tied to a damn chair.

That’s where the pity comes in. He saw what he saw, and he feels sorry for me. I hate that.

“What are you doing here?” I question as soon as I swing the door open.

His lips curve up into a grin. “Calloway couldn’t make it back in time from whatever the fuck he’s doing to take you to work. He called me to be your chauffeur.”

I snort, mainly because I know that I don’t need a chauffeur, but it’s sweet that he thought of me and called Brody instead of one of the other guys. This is probably as much for me as it is for Brody.

“I can’t get on your bike like this.” I wave my hand in front of me.

Brody chuckles. “Yeah, figured as much,” he says. “Brought my truck.”

I slip out of the apartment and lock the door behind me, but I don’t make a motion to move yet. “Brody?” I call out softly.

His eyes flick to mine, and he must sense the seriousness in my tone because he plants his feet wide and places his hands on his hips as he focuses on me and only me.

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