Page 26 of Hide Little Traitor

TEN YEARS AGO

There were moments in the cellar where I thought I’d never know comfort again.

The constant switch between numbness and agony became my new normal, and the memory of a body without pain faded with each minute that ticked by.

Which is why I burst into tears the second Kingston places me down on a bed that is almost too soft.

“Do you want to take a shower before the doctor gets here?” he asks, crouching in front of me so our eyes are level.

I nod, swiping away tears with my good hand. I need to wash away the blood and filth caked on every inch of my skin.

“Okay. I’m going to get it started, and then I’ll come back for you. Is that okay?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

He pushes to his feet and steps into one of the two rooms directly across from me, which I assume are the bathroom and closet.

I didn’t have much of a chance to look at the penthouse as he carried me through it, but from what I did see, it’s beautiful.

Everything I saw was dark charcoal and black, a combination that should be too dark, but it somehow worked with the accents of lighter woods throughout.

Pressing my eyes closed, I try to muster the energy to pull the oversized sweater off, but I’m depleted. If my choices were to stand unassisted or die, I’m almost certain I’d be killed on the spot, because every muscle in my body feels detached right now.

It’s a strange feeling, and the more I think about it, the more uncomfortable I become.

Kingston appears in front of me, worry etched into his dark brows.

He lifts me into his arms just like every time I’ve needed to move since he came for me, but this time I allow myself to enjoy the comfort his embrace offers.

The bathroom is the same as the rest of the apartment, but with just the under-counter lighting illuminating the space, it’s the perfect moody paradise.

There’s a huge tub on our left that I long to soak in, but I haven’t had time to do any pregnancy research, and I don’t know if it’s safe.

I didn’t go through the hell to get us out of that nightmare just to accidentally do something to hurt the little life growing inside me.

We reach the edge of the steaming shower, but I’m not ready to leave Kingston’s warmth yet. Logically I realize the shower will be hot enough to replace that of his arms, but nothing about what I’m feeling is logical right now.

“Can you stand?” he asks roughly.

“I don’t think so.”

He drags in an unsteady breath. “Okay, let me find a chair for you.”

I try to remember if this is how thoughtful Kingston always was, but we spent such short bursts of time together over the years, I barely have any real memories of him.

He may have been my father’s best friend, but he was never an active part of our lives.

Kingston moves to place me down on the counter, but I can’t bring myself to let go.

“Mama, I need to put you down for a second.”

“Help me,” I whisper.

He presses his eyes closed, dragging in a deep breath before meeting my gaze again. “I’m trying, Mama. I’ll be as quick as I can.”

Fresh tears escape the corners of my eyes, but now they’re from frustration. I need him to stay. I need him to help me. So why can’t I voice what I need?

His eyes lock on the tears, and if I weren’t so completely broken inside, I’d probably find his reaction amusing. Panic flashes through the deep brown pools, and his grip on me tightens.