5. Lilah
5
LILAH
I hated that I had to lean on Nolan to get up the stairs. As if the whole incident wasn’t mortifying enough. He was nice about it though, telling me to take my time and even offering to carry me at one point (which was a hard no from me).
He led me past several closed doors to a room at the end of the hall. He flipped a switch and a soft glow illuminated a large room with vaulted ceilings and a wall of glass. I still didn’t want to be here, but I almost wept at the site of the king-size bed piled high with inches of down and enough pillows to bury me alive.
The furniture was heavy and masculine, crafted out of rich wood complemented by a blue-gray sofa in a small sitting area and a glass-topped coffee table with a base that looked like it was made out of a massive piece of driftwood.
I caught a glimpse of a bathroom in the shadow of an open door.
Nolan looked around like he was seeing the room for the first time, trying to decide if it was suitable. “There should be towels in the bathroom.” He set the black sweatpants he’d brought to the living room on the bed. “I can get you some more clothes tomorrow if these don’t work.”
“They’ll be fine.” I had to choke out the next words. “Thank you.”
He nodded. “I’ll leave you alone then. Let us know if you need anything.”
He held out his hand and I saw that there was a key in his big palm. “It’s the only one.”
I took it without saying anything and he beat a quick retreat to the hall. He’d barely closed the door behind him when I hurried to lock it.
I breathed a sigh of relief. There was no guarantee they didn’t have another key, but after my race through the woods, the moments when I thought I would die, I felt almost safe.
At the very least I was alive. That was something.
I hobbled to the door on the other side of the room and found a luxurious bathroom, complete with a deep soaking tub, walk-in shower, double vanity, and toilet. Like the rest of the house, it was earthy and masculine, with black slate counters and matte blue-green tile that made me think of the Blackwell River in summer.
As promised, a thick stack of pristine white towels sat on a wooden shelf, along with some basic bath products.
A wall of exhaustion hit me all at once. Now that I was safe — whatever that meant given my digs for the night — the adrenaline that had kept me going, that had kept me running, was seeping out of my body, leaving me depleted. Plus, my heart had worked extra hard during my run through the woods.
I needed sleep more than I needed a bath, and the returning sensation to my feet and fingers made me feel relatively safe skipping it for now.
I felt exposed returning to the bedroom, and I crossed the thick area rug to the wall of glass and closed the heavy draperies. Then I stripped off my clothes, leaving on the double layer of socks, and pulled on the black sweats. They were way too big — and I didn’t have clean underwear — but it still felt like heaven to be warm and dry, Nolan’s sweatshirt soft against my skin now that I’d gotten rid of my damp T-shirt.
My phone was dead and I didn’t have a charger, and for once I was glad. I didn’t want to see if I had any texts from Vic.
Didn’t want to know if he still planned to come for me.
I set the key on the nightstand with the plastic bottle of meds Nolan had given me, then pulled back the covers and climbed into the giant bed, sighing with relief as I buried myself in the heavy layers of down.
Everything went dark.