Chapter 18 Juliet
JULIET
Scalding hot water runs down the length of my spine, loosening my muscles and helping me to let go of the anxiety and mental reminders today has brought forth.
I let a sigh slip from my lips as I tip my head back.
I’m not supposed to wash my hair in water this warm because of the color, but God, do I need it.
Little droplets of blue slide around my feet and head towards the drain as if I’m bleeding out the rich blood I was born with.
I’m not surprised when the door to the bathroom creaks open, but I am when it’s not Lex’s voice I hear.
“Jules.”
Turning, I glance through the foggy glass of the shower door. I swipe my hand down and Gio’s face comes into view for a moment before the heat causes him to disappear once more behind a wall of condensation and steam.
“Gio?” I reach for the handle, but before I can pop open the door, it’s opening from the other side. My eyes widen as Gio stands in the opening, not seeming to care about the water splashing his pants-clad thighs. He’s still dressed in what he was wearing to the funeral earlier. “What’s wrong?”
He doesn’t answer, but his expression tells me it’s something bad. Silently, Gio undoes the buttons of his shirt, shrugging out of it and letting it drop to the floor. There’s a wound on his side, blood slipping from what looks like a puncture hole.
“What happened to you?” I demand. Silence is my answer as he toes off his shoes and I glance at the doorway to Lex’s bedroom. Lex has to know he’s here. What could have possibly happened?
I turn back as Gio finishes kicking his shoes away, reaching down to rip his socks off as well. He grimaces. That wound in his side must fucking hurt. A moment later, with my eyes wide, I back up to give him room as he steps into the shower—pants still on and only his feet and chest bare.
“Gio…” His name is a whisper of sound as I trace down his ripped abdomen. Water sluices over him, washing away the blood. Thankfully, the wound looks smaller, though it’s clearly somewhat fresh. I frown when my fingers graze the top of his pants.
“Hey, your pants—” I cut myself off as his face gets closer and I note the pain in his eyes and the sagging of his shoulders. Frowning, I don’t argue anymore as Gio comes into the small shower which should only be meant for one person and lets the glass door close behind him.
Hot water and steam fill the space, making it smaller as his body presses into mine. “I need you.” The whisper is a broken plea, a crack in his playboy facade. I recognize the signs of shattering all too well.
My chest clenches. “You have me,” I say.
No other words need to be spoken. No other questions need to be asked.
I open my arms and he doesn’t hesitate. Gio collapses into me like I’m the last thing holding him to this earth.
His head drops against my shoulder, face pressed into the wet curve of my neck.
The water scalds my skin, but the heat is nothing compared to the searing ache in my chest.
It’s an odd feeling of vulnerability to be surrounded by such masculine strength, naked while he’s still somewhat clothed. Yet, I don’t feel like the one in danger now. I feel like the protector.
I’ve seen Gio angry. I’ve seen him violent, ruthless, and I’ve seen him as the wicked seducer that so many girls have fallen for.
But this? This is worse. This is raw. This is him stripped bare in a way I never even knew I’d be privy to, but he’s seen me the same.
Gio has witnessed me at my lowest and he’s protected me still. I’d die before rejecting him now.
His breath saws out, uneven. A sound escapes him—half snarl, half sob—something feral and broken that rips through me. There’s a hint of desperation in the way he holds on to me. I wrap my arms tighter around his wide, muscular frame.
Steam curls around us, cloaking the world in white, until it feels like there’s only us—his body pressed to mine, my heart hammering against his chest like it can keep him together through sheer force of will.
“It’s okay.” I blink, water clinging to my eyelashes. His hold tightens, arms clenching around my middle as my breasts press into his hard, tattooed chest until it hurts.
The first sob is like the crack of a gunshot—sudden, violent.
Then another. His fingers dig into my sides hard enough to bruise, to brand, and I welcome it.
I rush to shove my fingers into his hair, blinking harder as I try not to cry along with him.
I don’t know why. I don’t know what’s wrong, but I want to help him however I can.
“It’s okay.” I whisper the words again, hating them because I know they’re a lie. It’s not okay. He’s not okay, but I would give anything in the world to make him that way.
More noises come from the man in my arms as if they’re being ripped free.
I ignore the rapidly cooling shower and climb him without thinking.
I wrap my legs around his hips, needing to be closer, needing to anchor him before he shatters.
The tile is freezing against my back now, the water has gone cold, but I don’t care. I only care about him.
His tears burn hotter than the shower ever could. They slide down my shoulder, mingling with the water, and I imagine for one brutal, beautiful second that I can absorb all of his pain through my skin.
“Breathe,” I murmur, stroking his wet hair, kissing the crown of his head even as my own tears finally spill over. “Just breathe, Gio. I’ve got you. I swear, I’ve got you.”
I lock my legs around his hips, letting him bury his face against me. His big body shudders as he sobs into me. Quiet descends between us, broken only by the sound of spraying water and his rapid panting breaths.
I close my eyes when heat descends over my shoulder in rivulets.
The shower has gone cold and the steam is dissipating, but I imagine the hot water leaking down my skin is just that.
Water. Not pain. Not tears. Not one of the strongest men in my entire world breaking apart.
Because I hate to think that he’s hurt and there’s nothing I can do but this.
Gio gasps for air as he clutches me tighter, chest heaving like he’s been drowning for years and just now realized he wants to live. I let him crush me against him, let him hold me so tight it hurts, because maybe that’s what he needs—something solid, something unbreakable.
The bruises will come later. His grip is too tight to not make it a reality. Not all bruises are bad, though. Sometimes, they’re just proof that you’re alive. These bruises will be proof that I was here when he needed me most. Proof that even the strongest of us get to fall apart sometimes.
I don’t know how long the two of us stand there like that in the single shower stall of Lex’s bathroom, but when the door to the bathroom creaks open, I look up.
Gio is breathing heavily, still clutching on to me like he’s frightened that letting go may end him completely.
Lex peers in at us with an enigmatic expression, eyes dark and lips turned down in a scowl.
At first, I think it’s because he’s jealous, but instead of reacting with annoyance and demand, he merely steps up to the stall and opens the door.
The sound makes Gio stop, his breath ceasing and his chest not moving as he holds it for a beat.
Lex doesn’t say a word as he reaches inside and turns off the shower.
Cool air slithers over my naked skin. I lift my fingers and grimace at how pruny they are. Lex widens the door and reaches for a pair of towels hanging on the wall.
“Come on, man,” he says, voice low and soothing. “It’s late and I’m sure you’re tired.”
Gio’s breaths come back, the warm brush of air across my chest and neck making me shiver.
Lex narrows his eyes on me and I glare right back.
“Don’t. You. Dare.” I mouth the words. Now is definitely not the time to say something.
He frowns, but his eyes soften into a look of understanding as they drop back to G.
“Gio?” I whisper lightly, stroking my fingers through his hair. “Lex is right, let’s get changed, get a bandage on that wound of yours, and crawl into bed.”
It takes a few more minutes of convincing, but eventually both Lex and I manage to get Gio out of the shower and into the main bedroom.
I quickly towel myself off as Lex helps him out of his soaked pants and into a pair of low-slung sweats and then ends up leaving, only to return with a first aid kit a moment later.
Gio sways from side to side as if he’s drunk as Lex cleans the wound on his abdomen and bandages it.
Gio doesn’t speak, but the red rimming his eyes tells the story of why he’s here.
Once Lex is done, he and I lead Gio over to the massive king bed in the center of Lex’s room. The second he lies on it, G reaches for me, a plea in his gaze. I sigh and crawl in next to him.
“You gonna be okay for a bit, baby?” Lex asks, leaning down and pressing a kiss to my head.
“I’m fine,” I assure him as Gio nuzzles against me once more, wrapping both of his arms and legs around me in a way he hadn’t been able to in the shower.
“Take care of our boy,” he says quietly, lifting back up.
“Are you going somewhere?” Should he be leaving right now? Something obviously went down with Gio and—His answer cuts off my concerns before they can finish in my head.
“I’m not leaving the house, but I called Nolan when Gio showed up,” he replies. “He’s almost here. We need to talk and figure out what happened.”
“Oh.” I glance back to Gio, whose eyes are squeezed tightly shut. I suppose it wouldn’t be easy to get answers from him right now. “Okay,” I murmur, stroking my hands over his back. “I’ll be here.”
“Thanks, baby.” Lex kisses me again, the warmth of his lips on my temple for a split second before he’s backing out of the room and drawing the bedroom door shut.