35. Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Five
Dallas
L eaving Blaire in my bedroom at my parents’ house doesn’t feel right. But I won’t be far from her. I gave in to my mom moving Blaire into their house, but that just means I’m moving in too. I’ll crash in one of the other rooms if she won’t have me in hers. While I know she’s safe at my parents’ house, I didn’t want to take any chances, so Sawyer stuck around and will head back to his place once I’m back.
The drive to my house is lonely as fuck, my brain beating the shit out of my emotions worse than any hit I’ve taken in the ring. It’s hard to believe that just last week we were here, wrapped up in my bed together while she finally slept soundly with my arms around her. It’s a heady feeling being able to provide a sense of safety and comfort to another person, and the idea that I may never be able to give her that again makes me feel physically sick.
I don’t know what to do with the information Sawyer found out about the wreck not being an accident. The thought alone fuels me with rage and fear, the need to get back to her as soon as possible, strong.
Walking through my house without Blaire here is solemn as fuck. I want her in my space, and I would have given anything to convince her to move in with me as soon as possible. If I hadn’t fucked everything up.
Once in my bedroom, I take a deep inhale of the space. Our scents mingle in the air and on the fabric of my pillows and sheets; just as they should. I pack my things into a duffel bag before locking up my house and heading to Blaire’s apartment. Pulling my car into a spot in front of the tattoo shop, I decide to take a detour and open the door to Rogue to find Reid. He immediately gets up and walks over to me, pulling me into a hug.
“How is she? Sawyer’s been updating me but how is she really?”
I don’t know what happens, but everything I’ve been holding together comes crashing down on me and the floodgates open.
“Hey, man, it’ll be alright, let’s get off the main floor, my office is right over here.”
Reid puts his hand on my back and steers me to his office while I lose my shit, tears falling rapidly down my face. Once inside, I take a seat in one of his chairs and he pulls another one close, sitting in front of me.
“I love her so goddamn much, man. She is everything good, everything so perfect. I promised her that I would keep her safe, that I wouldn’t let anyone ever hurt her again. I blame myself for her leaving the distillery that day.”
“I know you do. That’s why I told you where she lived. I could see it, but the car accident wasn’t your fault, man.”
“You don’t understand. After our days snowed in together at my house, before you told me where she lived, I knew she was hiding something big. When she wouldn’t open up to me, I contacted Wes and put a contract out with him on her. He sent me the file after you told me where she was, and she came clean about her past and I never fucking opened the file. I never opened it.”
“Fuck, brother. She found it, didn’t she?”
I drop my head into the palms of my hands and take a deep breath.
“Yeah. On my computer. I saw it written all over her face. The heartbreak. I’ll never be able to forget that look. It’ll haunt me forever. She screamed at me and left, and she was so upset. I should have stopped her. I never should have let her drive that upset, but I didn’t. And now this.”
Reid runs his hands through his long hair, tying it back before rubbing his palms up and down his thighs. Neither of us knows what to say. He can’t dispute it. I caused all of this. I wish I could tell him that Sawyer thinks her accident was on purpose, but I can’t breach her trust again.
“You’ll figure out how to get through it. You and your family always find a way.”
“I just don’t see a clear path right now. How can she forgive me?”
“Look, it’s fucked-up what you did, but I know you had good intentions. She’ll see that. You wouldn’t do it maliciously. She’ll come around because she’s crazy about you. You guys weren’t as good at hiding it as you think you were.”
“Fuck, really?”
He gives me a look that says I’m an idiot, and he’s not wrong. I’ve made a lot of mistakes the last few months and have my work cut out for me on setting them straight. I can’t lose my girl.
“Sorry for breaking down, been holding it together as best I can.”
“Don’t worry about it, brother. I’ll swing in to see her again in a few days when she’s ready for some visitors.”
I nod in agreement, knowing Blaire enjoys his company, and that she needs to see her friends and feel loved.
“Hey, I need to get going so I can grab some things for her from her apartment to bring back to my parents’ house, but I’ll text you.”
He walks over to his desk and grabs a key to Blaire’s apartment. I squash the jealous Neanderthal in me that wants to demand he not have access to her space, but I know it’s futile and won’t get me anywhere. He goes to toss me the key, but I put up my hand showing him that I already have one. I give him my thanks before heading around back to Blaire’s studio.
Walking into her space, I’m engulfed in her scent. I move to her bathroom and wash my face, blowing my nose and getting my shit together. Once I’ve composed myself, I get started on packing things that Blaire will need throughout her stay. I pack all of her toiletries, panties, bras, leggings, and a few pairs of sleep shorts. I purposefully don’t pack any T-shirts of her own. She can wear mine.
Leaving her apartment, I step on an envelope that I hadn’t noticed when I walked in. There isn’t even a mat outside her door, so I’m positive it wasn’t here ten minutes ago. Picking it up, I hold it between my fingers, looking at the blank manila envelope with no postage or address on it. I shove it under my arm and jog down to my Audi, looking up and down the street for anyone who could have just been here. Tossing Blaire’s things in the back with my own, I climb into the car and lock the doors.
My fingers shake slightly as I open the envelope and pull out a stack of photos with a sticky note attached to the front.
You’ve been a bad girl.
-Daddy
Bile rises in my throat as I skim through the photos. All of Blaire at various places. Bean Haven, talking with Hannah. Sitting at Rogue with Reid. Walking down Main Street by herself. Talking to a group at the distillery. The last one has my vision blurring and my stomach turning the acid around like a raging storm inside me. Blaire bent over my dining room table with me on my knees behind her.
“FUCK!”
Tossing everything on the seat next to me, I pull out my phone and call Sawyer. He answers on the first ring.
“Blaire near you?”
“No, sleeping right where you left her. What’s up?”
“We’ve got a huge fucking problem.”
I peel out of Main Street and gun it back to my parents’ house.
“You were right. It wasn’t an accident. Someone has been fucking following her and based on the package he left at her front door, my bet is on the motherfucker who tortured her as a teenager.”
“Shit. How do you want to deal with this? Want me to call Officer Hopkins?”
“Keep it between us for now. I’m not leaving her side. Keep Ivy close until I figure out how we’re going to play this.”
“Let me know what you need, brother.”
The call disconnects as I fly through Aspen Ridge to get to my girl. I promised her that I would keep her safe. I won’t fail again. I’m going to fix everything. I just need to decide how much I should tell her before I do.
“Dallas, there are no T-shirts in here.”
“I know, baby.” I pull off my Aspen Ridge Distillery tee and walk over to her, bunching it up in my hands and pulling it over her head where she sits on the bed looking through the duffel bag of her things. I don’t miss the way she swivels her face to the side into the shirt and inhales deeply. That’s my good girl.
“I’m going to need my own T-shirts; I can’t live in yours.”
“You can and you will. Are you hungry?”
She sighs deeply, her eyes withdrawn, her face battered and pale.
“I don’t think so.”
“You need to eat. So, what do you feel like having? We have homemade Tuscan vegetable soup with French bread, or I can make you a grilled cheese, French toast, a fruit bowl?”
“I’m really not hungry, Dallas.”
“Blaire,” I say sternly. “You need food to heal. So, what can I get you?”
“Fine. I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
“That’s my good girl. I’ll be right back.”
I wander off to the kitchen and prepare two bowls of my mom’s Tuscan vegetable soup. It’s hearty, filled with vegetables, some weird-looking floaty seed thing, beans, and a rich tomato vegetable broth. It’s exactly what Blaire needs to start to feel better. I cut off two pieces of the French bread loaf, set everything on a tray, and return to my girl.
“Here you go.” I set the tray gently on her lap, grab my bowl off of it, and move to the recliner my brothers brought in here before Blaire was released from the hospital. We eat in comfortable silence, but she eats all of it and I couldn’t be happier. She declined seconds, but the fact that she ate something at all is a relief. After I clean up from dinner, I pull out Blaire’s lotion from her duffel bag and take a seat on the bed next to her. I hand her the remote so she can put something on the television. Squirting some lotion into my palm, I rub my hands together before picking up one of her feet and massaging it. She moans and my dick perks up in my sweats, the idiot. Not happening, my man, you’re confused as fuck. Blaire puts a TV show that she loves on, and I’m not going to lie, Anthony Bridgerton has got some moves, the cheeky bastard. I find myself invested in the show, wondering if he’ll continue with the plan to marry Kate’s sister, all while rubbing Blaire’s feet and legs, massaging her, and showing her the physical affection she deserves.
The show ends, and she turns the TV off.
“It was just getting good!”
“Feel free to finish watching it. I’m falling asleep and need to get some rest.”
“How can I help you?” Please let me help you, it’s killing me.
“I just need to take more ibuprofen and then I’ll be okay.”
“You haven’t touched the narcotics; they’ll help you so you can sleep better and feel better.”
“My parents were drug addicts, Dallas. I don’t want them. I won’t touch them, so just dump them down the toilet for all I care. The eight-hundred-milligram ibuprofen has been working fine, I just need to stay on top of it.”
Feeling like shit for not putting that together on my own, I pick up the bottle of oxys and set it on the TV stand to dispose of properly later. Her face scrunches up tightly as she bites the side of her cheek through her pain while she tries to get settled in the bed for sleep. I step forward, helping her with the pillows and blankets, tucking her in.
When I look down on her, I can’t help but brush the wild red hair from her sweet face, her cheek cool against my fingertips.
“You’re so beautiful it hurts.”
A tear slips free from her eye and my chest tightens. How did we get here? I lean down to kiss her forehead, my lips pressing down firmly while I take a deep breath of her. She smells like my soap, and I decide I like her covered in my scent most of all.
“Goodnight, princess.”
I stand to leave but she stops me, her hand grabbing my wrist. Turning to face her, she’s every bit as lost, vulnerable, and confused as I am. Not having any idea how to fix us, I wait for her command, willing to do anything she wants.
“Will you stay with me? Please?” she whispers, and I nearly break right there.
“Yeah, baby, of course I’ll stay with you.”
I strip down to my boxer briefs and carefully lift the blankets, laying down next to her. Unsure how close she wants me, I settle on resting my hand on her thigh, rubbing my fingertips over her smooth skin in small circles.
Her content sigh is the last thing I hear as she falls fast asleep. With me as her guardian, thankful to be able to watch over her and chase her demons away so she can rest.