Page 73 of When You're Gone
Tori needed him. She needed his care. She needed his comfort. She needed his love. Regardless of where things stood between them, he needed to be here for her now.
He approached her cautiously, taking in a long breath before blowing it out over several seconds. He needed to center himself and find his calm if he was going to be of any use to her today. He crouched in front of where she sat with his arms resting on either side of her.
“I am so unbelievably sorry this happened to you, beautiful.”
She pursed her lips and gave him an appraising stare but didn’t say anything, so he continued.
“Can I please help you wash up and check you over to make sure there’s not any glass still lodged in your skin?”
She nodded wordlessly and accepted the hand he offered.
“I’m going to clean up outside now that I can actually see. You guys need anything?” Jake asked.
Rhett just shook his head, but Tori made more of an effort to respond. She rose to her feet and closed the space between them, wincing slightly as her feet grazed the floor.
“Thank you,” she whispered as she wrapped their friend in a hug.
Rhett watched as she sagged against Jake, relief and gratitude apparent in the way she trusted him to hold her up.
“Come on,” he urged after a few more seconds. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” It wasn’t that he was jealous of their affection. At least not in the traditional sense. But he ached to hold her in that way, knowing he was the one who had demanded the distance between them in the first place.
Jake whispered something in her ear, then pulled back and headed outside.
“What did he just say?” Rhett asked, his curiosity—and maybe a bit of jealousy—getting the best of him.
Tori glanced back over her shoulder as she started up the stairs. “That he loves me. And to be gentle with you.” She paused as she gingerly stepped over the squeaky step. “It’s not every day someone has to live their literal nightmare.”
Chapter twenty-eight
Tori
Everyfiberofherbeing hummed in response to his nearness. She had barely slept. Her body ached all over. But the most dominant emotion she felt now was relief.
Rhett was home.
He guided her into his en suite bathroom and reached past her to turn on the shower. She chanced a glance at herself in the mirror, stricken by the unruly state of her hair and the ashen, exhausted expression that gaped back at her in the mirror.
Worse than her reflection was the physical reaction to the reminders of last night. Staring into the reflective glass surface took her right back to the moment of impact. She shuddered at the reminder of the way the glass shattered, the way it sparkled, the way it pricked when it rained down over her head. Her stomach lurched at the memory of glass everywhere.
“V… Why didn’t you shower last night?” His question wasn’t accusatory, just genuinely curious.
“I was exhausted,” she explained, before adding, “And it was raining when it happened. The raindrops and the glass coming down together…”
Rhett reached past her and slammed the shower off, abruptly cutting off the stream of water. “How about a bath instead?”
He took her hand and guided her toward his parents’ room without waiting for a response.
She followed him into the master suite and watched as he pushed up his sleeves and turned on the warm water to fill the garden tub. Her body relaxed at its proximity of him, at the sight of him working to care for her. He added a few bath salts and a splash of bubbles, then turned and offered her a sad smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He extended his arms, and she eagerly let him wrap her in an embrace.
“Take as long as you need,” he whispered into her hair as one hand smoothed over her robe-clad back. “I’ll patch up all the cuts and scrapes when you’re done.” He released her and walked toward the door, business-like and transactional.
“Where are you going?” she asked in a panic. She reached out for him on instinct, catching his arm and only wincing slightly when the cuts on her hand protested.
“I was going to grab the first aid kit. I’ll wait for you out here.” He tried to assure her, his tone placating and calm. “Just call me when you’re ready.”
“You can’t be serious,” she hissed.
He tilted his head but didn’t immediately respond.
