The Struggle(52)

I don’t know how long I sat in the corner of the shower. It could’ve been minutes or hours, but the tears didn’t stop, and I couldn’t move—couldn’t force myself past all the pain and fear that festered inside me, the all-consuming, sucktastic realization that I was weak. I wasn’t like Alex.

If I were stronger, I wouldn’t be sitting here, in the shower, sobbing like a kid who didn’t have anyone show up for their birthday party. If I had my shit together, I would already be out of this shower, ready to talk about what I saw, what I knew.

But I couldn’t move.

Couldn’t get my brain past any of this.

I was broken, truly, utterly broken inside, and the panic building in the back of my throat told me there was possibly no chance of fixing that, because I knew only I could repair this, and I wasn’t sure I had it in me to do so.

Or maybe I did.

Maybe once I got all this messy emotion out of me, I could piece myself back together, because I had to. I knew I did, but right now, right this very second, I couldn’t.

So caught up in my own head, I hadn’t heard the door open or Seth call my name, but I suddenly heard his curse rip through the air. A few seconds later, the water turned off and then he was climbing in the shower, fully clothed, wrapping a fluffy, warm towel over my shoulders.

I lifted my head, barely able to see him through the tears. “My mom is dead.”

He said something too low for me to make out, and then he was pulling me toward him. I was half in his lap, my legs between his, and water dripped off me, soaking through his jeans and shirt.

Seth didn’t seem to notice. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me as tight as he could without squeezing me as I buried my face against his chest. One of his hands delved deep in the wet mess of my hair.

“It’ll be okay,” Seth said, his lips moved against my forehead, and he kept saying it, over and over, but the last time he’d held me and said that, it had been a lie.





Chapter 17


Seth

When the tears ebbed and then stopped, all of the tension seemed to fade from Josie. Her body went limp in my arms. She was asleep, completely out of it.

Concern spiked when I lifted her and rose, and she made no sound or movement. She’d been unconscious when I brought her here and had only been awake for about an hour. Then again, unconsciousness was not the same as restful sleep, and I still had no idea what she’d gone through.

And why wasn’t she healing?

Those damn bracelets drew my attention as I stepped out of the shower, my jeans now wet and clinging to my skin.

I shifted her in my arms, and the towel parted. Because I was the worst kind of asshole at the moment, I didn’t look away quick enough to not catch a glimpse of the soft swell of her breast and a rosy peak. Lust punched straight through me, and the walk to the bed was not a comfortable one.

Using the element of air, I willed the blanket back and then laid her down, resting her head on the soft pillow. As I started to pull away, her hand fisted the front of my shirt. My gaze flew to her face. She was still asleep, but obviously, even dead to the world, she didn’t want to be alone.

I couldn’t refuse her.

Gently prying her fingers off my shirt, I stepped back from the bed and stripped off the wet shirt. The jeans went next. I grabbed a pair of loose sweats and pulled them on and then climbed into bed beside her. Josie was shivering from head to toe. I didn’t think about what I was doing. I circled an arm around her waist and as carefully as possible, I drew her against my chest. She made a soft little sound, her lips brushed my chest, and that was all.

Josie slept.

And I held her.

I held her as I thought about everything Alex and I had talked about. I held her as I replayed the moment I’d turned around and seen Josie, my beautiful Josie standing on the balcony with a look of horror and confusion in her sea-colored eyes. I held her as I saw her curled up in the corner of the shower, her entire body shaking with her sobs, and it killed me. Sliced right through, cutting me wide open, to know I wasn’t there for her when she learned her mother had died or that I hadn’t been able to protect her from Hyperion. I’d made so many mistakes, countless ones. I did not do right by her.

But I was going to be here for her now.

Smoothing a hand over her wet hair, I brushed the strands back from her face. The bruises stood out starkly against her pale skin. Rage caused my hand to tremble as I tugged the comforter up to her shoulders.

Alex was probably going to cut off my balls the next time I saw her. Well, that was only if she got to me before Josie was back to . . . to herself.

Gods.

Of all the moments for Josie to wake up and find her way outside, it had to be right then. First, I needed to explain to her what she saw outside. Then I’d explain it to Alex, but I wasn’t sure how Josie could accept this—accept this new reality.