Page 28 of Hope and Country

Even with the face of a boxer who had just lost a world championship, she still looked gorgeous to me. Just as I’d remembered her from that night in her red dress. Long neck. High cheekbones. Mesmerizing eyes.

With a washcloth and warm water, I cleaned the wounds on her face as gently as possible, our gazes connected the entire time.

Thirty minutes later, we lay on our sides, facing each other on my bed. “You’re sure you want to sleep in here? With me? I can move into a guest room.”

“No. Please, stay. I’m scared. I know it’s silly. Robbie can’t get to me here. But I don’t want to be alone. Do you mind? I feel like I’m intruding in your life—”

“You’re not. I’m honored you came to me. Wake me up if you need anything. Even if it’s only to talk, okay?”

“Thanks, Riley.” Devon extended her hand until she knitted her shaky fingers through mine.

I watched her for hours as her breathing slowed and sleep claimed her.

My heart cried at the beating she suffered.

I pulled the blanket over her shoulders and scooted closer.

Devon’s grip on my hand never released, and I fell asleep as we both held on to each other.

11

DEVON

On our way to Riley’s room, we passed a few bedrooms till we reached his with an en-suite bathroom. "We'll use this one since it has a bathtub," he said. "It's more spacious." After I reluctantly agreed for him to record my injuries, because Riley was right, they could be useful if I decided to bring my stepbrother to justice, my host left me in the low-lit room all by myself to fill the tub. I hugged my stomach with my arms, trying to bring my body some requisite comfort, doing my best to avoid crushing my sore midriff.

Every inch of me suffered the aftermath of Robbie’s onslaught

Even my vertebras screamed in pain.

Humiliation swirled inside me at the idea of having a stranger photograph the extent of the beating I had endured. But no matter how uncomfortable it felt to have an object pointed at me, memorizing each wound, knowing those proofs wouldn’t be buried by Robbie this time gave me the strength to go through with it. My stepbrother wouldn’t get a chance to erase the evidence with threats or blackmail now. I could control the narrative and wouldn’t be subject to agreeing with his twisted retelling of the events in case I sought medical help or found a way to bring him down for the abuse he put me through.

From where I stood, I heard Riley, the most selfless man I’d ever met, now I was sure of it, muttering something from the bathroom.

Shivers ran through me.

I moved to my feet and scanned the bedroom around me. A king-sized bed with a dark comforter and a bunch of decorative pillows, a dark blue upholstered wingback chair in a corner, a fluffy matching-colored rug at the end of the bed. On each side, there was a dark wooden nightstand, matching the headboard.

White walls. Straight lines. A few white accents.

It looked masculine, modern-chic, and rustic all at the same time.

Loneliness fell over me like a thick curtain, and my heart sped up.

I was in a stranger’s bedroom. By myself. And for some reason, I still suspected Robbie would show up and steal me away. Away from salvation. Away from freedom.

I heard the water running, and before my mind caught up with my feet, I reached the bathroom threshold and pushed ajar the door.

“Can I come in? I don’t want to be alone.” Riley nodded, his face a mask of worries. I inhaled some courage to speak the next words. “And also, you’ll have to help me out of these clothes because my ribs hurt like hell.”

Admitting it out loud sent moisture to my eyes. I wasn’t the type of woman to ask for help. My mother died a decade ago. And I’d learned to be self-sufficient at a young age. Until Robbie tried to steal my free will and independence by watching my every move with his friends and using me to unwind every time his stress levels reached new highs.

I accepted the painkillers Riley offered me and swallowed them with a painful sip.

With a gentleness I hadn’t witnessed since I was a little girl, he peeled the sweater over my head. Then he moved in front of me, closed his eyes, and glided my jeans down my legs before helping me into the bathtub.

I eased down, relishing the warm bubbly water. The lavender scent filled my nostrils, and some tension left my upper back.

By the door, he froze. I met his gaze, and we just stared at each other for a long moment. Why was this man so nice to me? Why did he agree to tend to me without asking anything in return? His irises glistened, and I wondered if it was from sadness or fury.