Chapter 36
Wes
I noticed Bailey come home, but what I didn’t notice was her getting out of her car.
After several minutes, I get concerned and go outside.
What I see makes my stomach drop. I act without much thought after the scream she lets out.
I race over to her, pull open the door, and check to make sure she’s not hurt.
Physically she seems okay, but there’s clearly something wrong. I don’t even try to ask because I know I’m not going to get any information out of her right now with the way she’s gasping for breath and has no reaction to me.
That’s okay, she doesn’t need to talk to me. All I want right now is to help her.
Before taking her into my arms, I grab her keys out of the ignition, and then scoop her up.
She goes willingly, burying her face into my shoulder.
I feel her tears and it makes me hold her tighter as I bring her inside her house.
She’s shaking, gasping, and crying. My stomach knots and anger peaks as I want to destroy whoever or whatever caused this because the woman in my arms is not the strong, attitude filled Bailey that I know.
Something caused this, and I want to know what it was.
Once we get inside, I sit on the couch, draping Bailey’s legs over mine and just hold her. She sobs into my shoulder while I rub her back as she lets everything out. I don’t try to talk, just waiting for her to be ready.
I don’t know how long we sit like this, but I finally feel Bailey’s breathing start to even out and her tears slow down. She lifts her head to look at me, her eyes and nose are red, and she seems to just be becoming aware that I’m here with her.
“What’s going on?” I ask, moving the hair that’s stuck to her wet face.
She opens her mouth, but no words come out. Her eyes starting to well up with tears again.
“Don’t tell me right now, come on.” I lift her, and carry her upstairs to her room.
“I’m really not in the mood for sex right now,” she grumbles roughly against my chest where her face is buried.
“Me either,” I tell her honestly before moving into the bathroom and depositing her onto the counter. “Wait here.”
After I make sure she’s not going to collapse and fall, I step toward her bathtub to start the water. I let the cold water run until it feels like a comfortable temperature, then step back over to Bailey, standing between her legs, her eyes remain locked on the floor.
“Do you want help?” I ask as gently as possible, knowing the question may piss her off or cause her tears to start once again.
It does neither of those things, and instead she raises her arms up above her head, but she’s still not looking at me. I accept her silent request, lifting her shirt up and off, then unclasping her bra and dropping them on the floor. She lowers her arms, gripping the edge of the counter.
“Can you stand?” I ask, ready to hold her up if I need to.
Without answering, she slides off to stand in front of me.
There’s no space between our bodies and this moment that would usually be fueled by sexual tension feels anything but.
Even when I’m pushing down her pants and underwear.
Kneeling on the hard floor, my previous injury screams out, I breathe through it because I want to help her.
She steps out of the rest of her clothes, and I go check the bath to make sure it’s good for her.
She steps up behind me as I run my hand through the water, and doesn’t say anything before stepping in.
I help her keep her balance as she lowers herself down.
Once inside, lets out a sigh, laying back and closing her eyes.
I wait for a minute to make sure she’s okay before picking up her discarded clothes and getting new ones. I also grab the thickest towel I can find and go downstairs to put it in the dryer while I grab her a cup full of ice water.
When I get back upstairs with the hot towel and cold water I see her hugging her knees against her chest with her chin resting on top of them. She turns her head to look at me, then notices what I have in my hands.
“You don’t have to get out yet, I just wanted to be ready when you are.”
“I can get out,” her voice cracks.
“You don’t have to,” I try again, but she’s already starting to stand up. I hold the towel out for her, and wrap it around her body once she’s standing.
Her mouth opens in shock when she realizes it’s warm, and I just shrug. I turn around to grab the T-shirt I brought for her, just holding it until she’s ready.
“What’re you doing?” she whispers, pulling the towel around herself tighter.
“Helping.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to.”
She’s looking at me with a skeptical range of emotions on her face but I just stand there ready to help with her shirt. She hesitates for a few more seconds before agreeing and letting me pull the shirt over her head, helping slip her arms through the designated holes and dropping the towel.
Again, I kneel on the ground even though my leg is killing me. She holds onto my shoulder stepping into the small underwear shorts I’ve seen her wear. When I stand up I get a good look at her face. She looks tired, eyes still red rimmed and I want to know what caused this breakdown.
“I’m going to lay down,” she murmurs, walking toward her room, as I follow.
She climbs in, laying on the edge, but I’m not leaving.
“Scoot over,” I instruct.
She looks up at me surprised. I kick off my shoes before climbing onto the bed, scooting her over myself.
Without another word I wrap my arms around her, pulling her into me. She stiffens, and I expect a fight, but after several seconds she melts into me with a sigh. And we stay just like this.
Finally, I manage to ask, “What happened?”
She stiffens again, but I don’t loosen my grip around her. She remains silent for a while, and I think she’s not going to say anything, but finally she does and I feel my own shoulders drop in relief that she’s talking.
“I’m leaving to see my brother and sister tomorrow.”
“And that gave you a panic attack?”
“I haven’t seen them in over ten years.”
I pull her into me a little more, hoping it’s providing the comfort I want it to. I’ve never needed to be the comfort for someone before and I’m not sure I’m doing this right. That’s why I don’t try to fill the silence, I just wait for her to continue.
“I’m flying to Denver in the morning, but I shouldn’t go.”
“Why not?”
She’s quiet again, but doesn’t try to leave my arms either.
“Because we had a shitty childhood. Really shitty. We’re all better apart and I don’t want to be the reason their lives fall apart again.”
That comment makes me tense. “Why the fuck would you think that?”
“I just do,” she says softly.
I sigh, not grasping her thought process, but I also don’t know the extent of what they all went through as children either.
Before I can think too much about it, I offer up the first thing that pops into my mind. “I’ll come with you.”
“What?” She sits up quickly, looking at me.
“I’ll join you, and if and when you want to leave, we will.”
She shakes her head. “No, you don’t have to do that.”
I put my hand on the one she has resting on my chest. “I know I don’t have to. I want to.”
“No way, plane tickets are way too expensive.”
“I’ll pay for it.”
“You don’t know anyone there.”
“I know you.”
“You hate being around people.”
“So do you.”
“They’re my family.”
“You just had a panic attack about that.”
Her mouth snaps shut and she shakes her head. “You’re not coming with me.”
“Yes, I am,” I insist, pulling my phone out of my pocket. “What time is your flight?”