37. Aspen
ASPEN
I didn’t think I’d sleep, but I open my eyes the following morning to bright sunlight filtering through cracks in the thick drapes.
Am I still alone in bed, or did Tobias try to sneak up from the floor during the night?
I turn slightly and fling out an arm, but it doesn’t meet with a warm body. Blinking the sleep out of my eyes, I twist fully and lift myself onto my elbows to see the spot on the floor where he’d made up a bed last night.
It’s empty, the pillows and blankets rumpled and tangled together.
There’s blood on the sheets and pillow from his head injury, and I grimace.
Was I too hard on him? I hadn’t meant for him to lie on the floor, bleeding everywhere, had I?
How bad was the head injury? I know scalps like to bleed, and I hope it wasn’t worse than I’d thought.
Where’s he gone?
Is he in the bathroom? Or did he go down to the kitchen to get coffee and something for breakfast? I picture him sitting around the kitchen table with Levi and I shudder. I definitely need to be around to intervene in that confrontation.
I use the bathroom quickly then head downstairs to find Tobias.
Blake is in the kitchen, sipping from a mug, but there’s no sign of Tobias.
“Morning,” Blake says in that slow, casual, insanely sexy way of his. “Sleep well?”
I’m distracted. “Err, yeah, I guess. Have you seen Tobias around?”
He arches an eyebrow. “Have you lost him?”
“Something like that.”
Have I lost him, or did I throw him away?
“Maybe he’s gone for a walk.”
“Yeah, perhaps. I’ll go and look for him.”
Tobias isn’t the kind of person to go for a walk without there being something to walk to, normally a bar. Plus, I’m concerned about his head injury. He shouldn’t be wandering around if his head is bleeding, or he has a concussion.
I grab my coat—it’s cold now, especially this time in the morning—and shove my feet into some boots. I unlock the front door and step into the bright sunlight, squinting into it. Something seems off, but I’m not quite sure what.
Then it dawns on me. Tobias’s car isn’t here.
Shit.
I pick up my pace and check the east and west side of the grounds, in case he simply moved the vehicle, but there’s no sign of it.
When did he leave? Why didn’t I hear the engine or the tires on the gravel?
My room is at the front of the hotel, the window looking onto where he’d been parked.
I didn’t think I’d been sleeping so deeply that I wouldn’t have heard it start, but then I didn’t hear him get up and leave the room either.
Should I try to call him? I don’t have any service, and I doubt he will either. Besides, I don’t really want to have to talk to him. I’d prefer to forget he ever existed, which I feel terrible about.
I also hate that we ended things on such a bad note.
I wish he hadn’t come here and we’d let things fizzle out naturally.
Is it my fault he came? I gave him the wrong idea, thinking we’d be continuing some kind of long-distance relationship, but because we’d never really defined what we were, it hadn’t seemed right to undefine it either.
I let out a groan and cover my face with my hands. What a fucking mess.
A flash of me pushing Tobias off the bed, followed by the bright scarlet of his blood all over his hands and head, jumps into my brain.
I’d made him sleep on the floor when he was hurt.
I hadn’t even checked he was all right. What if he’d left in the middle of the night, to navigate those treacherous mountains roads in the dark while he was concussed? He could easily have had an accident.
All I can picture is Tobias’s car having skidded off the side of the mountain, so it’s now crushed against trees and rocks, wheels spinning, smoke pouring from under the hood, and Tobias, bloodied and dying, slumped over the steering wheel.
I feel like I can’t breathe, my chest too tight.
This is my fault. If I’d just kept my mouth shut and let him have his five minutes of pounding into me, we’d have woken up this morning with him in a good mood, so we could have enjoyed the time he had left at the hotel.
“Everything okay, Pen?”
I spin around at Blake’s voice, my hand clamped to my mouth.
“Tobias has left. We had a fight last night, and he was bleeding from a head wound, and now he’s driven off.
You know how bad the roads are around here.
He’s probably concussed. He could have driven off the side of the mountain and killed himself! ”
Blake takes me by the shoulders and ducks his head to bring his line of sight level with mine.
“Breathe, Pen. Deep breaths. There’s no reason to think he isn’t okay. He’s probably just pissed about your fight, and he wants to make you worry.”
“Well, it’s worked. I am worried! What if he gets into an accident? It’ll be all my fault.”
“He’s a grown man. He’s allowed to leave if he wants. This isn’t on you.”
For some reason, I can’t see Tobias as a grown man, not like Blake, or even, weirdly, Levi. He’s always seemed so much younger, and I feel responsible for him. It’s my fault he took off, and it’ll be my fault if he’s wrapped his car around a tree or slid off the side of the mountain.
“Do you want to go after him?” he asks.
I hesitate. “I-I’m not sure.”
“Yes, you are,” he replies.
He’s right. I have no intention of going after Tobias. It’s not only because he could be miles away by now; it’s also because I don’t really want to see him again. I’m still haunted by the thought of his car being wrapped around a tree, but there’s a tiny part of me that whispers serves him right.
“When did you have the fight?” Blake asks.
“When we were going to bed.” My face heats as I recall the circumstances of the argument. I realize I don’t want to fill Blake in on the details. I’m ashamed that someone who was supposed to care about me would treat me in such a way. I don’t want Blake to think less of me because someone else did.
A couple of lines appear between his eyebrows. “So, you were in your room?”
“Yes. I went to sleep, and when I woke up, he was gone.”
“And you didn’t see anyone else in the bedroom?”
His question jars me. “What do you mean?”
“It was just the two of you?”
“Of course. Who else would be there?”
“You said he was bleeding. That he was concussed. How did that happen?”
I understand what he’s saying. If it was only the two of us in the room, how did Tobias get hurt? My blush deepens, and I can’t look him in the eye. Guilt permeates every pore of my skin, but should I really be feeling guilty? I was defending myself.
I think of how Tobias tried to force himself on me. I can still feel the hard poking of his fingers inside me, his cock jamming against me. If he hadn’t fallen off the bed, would he have kept ignoring me when I said no?
Blake narrows his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“I already told you what’s wrong. Tobias is missing, and I’m worried about him.”
He shakes his head. “No, there’s more to it than that. What happened between the two of you? How did he end up with a head injury?”
“He fell off the bed and hit his head on the corner of the nightstand.”
“How did he fall off the bed?”
“It was an accident,” I insist, but my cheeks are scorched.
I’m sure he knows exactly what happened, but I have no idea how.
I hate how ashamed I feel. Sick with it.
Tobias tried to assault me—no, he did assault me—and somehow, I’ve come off feeling like the guilty one.
Is that what he wanted? Is that why he’s left?
This is just his way of manipulating me, of making me look like the bad guy.
I prefer that version of events. I’d rather feel angry than worried.
I shouldn’t worry about that son of a bitch.
How many times is he going to hurt me before I cut him out of my life for good?
I’d convinced myself he wouldn’t have driven all this way just for a booty call, but it looks like I’d been wrong.
Blake hasn’t given up on trying to get the truth out of me.
“Tell me what he did.”
“Nothing.”
“Aspen.” His voice is stern. “Tell me.”
“No! I don’t have to tell you anything. You’re not my father!”
I clamp my hand over my mouth, my eyes widening. I can’t believe I’ve just said that. Of course he’s not my father. I don’t want him ever thinking he’s some kind of father figure to me either. I don’t think of him that way at all.
I spin away, no longer wanting to talk to him, and run for the stairs. I want to be back in my room, to shut myself away from everyone.
“Pen!”
His voice chases me, but for once, I ignore it. I’m worried he’s going to get the truth out of me, and then what will happen? Will he look at me differently? I don’t want to be near him. I don’t want to be around any man.
I’m all twisted up inside. My mind keeps replaying last night with different versions and interpretations. Had I overreacted? Had I underreacted? It’s not like Tobias was a stranger. But I’d also hurt him. Badly.
I’m a violent person. If I were a man who’d done that to a woman, I’d be considered a wife-beater or the equivalent.
I shut myself into my room. Blake doesn’t come after me. I pick up the stick doll from my dresser and hug it to my chest.
As the adrenaline wears off, I discover I’m thankful Tobias is no longer here. I wish things hadn’t ended up getting so ugly between us, but I can’t change what’s happened. I should have just told him to leave the moment I’d seen him here, but I was a coward.
Tobias is no longer a part of my life, and that acknowledgment brings me only relief.