Chapter 28
28
COLE
I anticipated this. The moment she ran her hand across her forehead, I knew she was getting a headache and figured I’d hear her vomiting through the night, but I never expected it to sound so violent.
Getting out of bed, I poured her a glass of ginger ale and found her purse on the table, where she put it when we came home before she announced she was going to bed.
Not even bothering to knock, I pushed open the bathroom door and found her kneeling in front of the toilet. I put the glass on the bathroom counter and grabbed a washcloth, rinsing it with cold water. Kneeling next to Paige, I laid my hand against her back just as she rolled her head to lie on the seat. Reaching up, I flushed the toilet and grabbed the glass and the pill from her purse.
“Here, baby.”
She opened her eyes slowly, and I handed her the pill and glass, watching her slowly lift her head and take the medicine that would hopefully work quickly. She lay her head back down, and I took the glass, put it on the counter, then grabbed the cloth. Placing it across her forehead, I relaxed my shoulders when she sighed.
I wasn’t sure how long we sat there, but after a while, I wanted to get her off the floor. “You good?”
“I think so,” she whispered.
Standing, I put the cloth back on the counter before bending down to pick her up, but she stopped me. “I want to brush my teeth.”
“Okay.” I helped her up and grabbed her toothbrush, putting on toothpaste. I waited while she finished, then grabbed her hand and walked with her to the bedroom.
She climbed into bed but didn’t let go of my hand. “Can you stay?”
Without answering, I moved around the bed and climbed in behind her. She rolled to her back and sighed in the darkness of her room. We lay there for a long time, and I thought she’d gone to sleep until she lifted her hand and ran it across her forehead.
“How’s your head?”
“Better now,” she answered softly. “It’s just a dull ache.”
Staring up at the dark ceiling, I continued talking. “I thought this might happen.”
“The headache or Paul in my house?”
“Headache,” I clarified.
“Yeah, me too. I should’ve taken my meds as soon as I got home, but I thought maybe I wouldn’t need them. I’ve been doing good lately.” Her voice was so weak, I clenched my fists at my sides. “Stress isn’t good for migraines.”
“This one seemed worse.”
“It was. I guess being afraid isn’t good either.”
“You don’t have to be afraid here, Paige.” I slid my hand between us and wrapped it around hers. “He can’t get to you.”
She linked her fingers with mine. “I just hope he doesn’t come here.”
“I hope he does.”
Her head turned slowly to face me. “Why?”
I rolled my head so I could see hers in the moonlight. “Because I want to get my hands on him.”
“Cole...” She sighed.
“I looked for him,” I admitted, and for a moment, I wondered why telling her this stuff in the dark was far less difficult than in the light of day. “I talked to the guys at Dimarco Construction and went to all the places they knew he’d gone. Even fucking strip clubs, but I never saw him.”
“He’s good at hiding,” she replied softly. “He hid who he was from me. I would’ve never agreed to go out with him if I knew he was the guy who attacked Bailey.” She swallowed hard. “I feel so stupid for not knowing.”
“He gave you a different name.”
“Still...” She inhaled slowly before releasing her breath. “It never occurred to me. Just chalk it up to another stupid mistake I made. Sometimes I think that’s all I’m good at.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I just don’t always think about what I’m doing. Like dropping out of college. I never considered getting tutors or anything like that. I just left.” She shrugged as best she could while lying down. “I was there with Lanie and embarrassed that I wasn’t smart enough to keep up.”
“You’re smart enough.”
She smiled softly. “No, I’m not. Honestly, I’m not good at much. That’s why I jump around between jobs. I use my looks to get the job and stay there until they realize I’m not qualified, and then I move on.” She dropped her eyes. “No one has ever called me on it until you.”
“I never meant that.”
“That’s what I heard,” she admitted. “And the shitty part was I knew you were right. Dave did hire me, thinking he would eventually get in my pants, and I accepted that. I just hated that you saw through everything.”
“That’s why you were always pissed off at me,” I surmised, and it finally made sense why she was angry with me no matter what I said. She didn’t answer, but she didn’t need to.
I snorted out a quiet laugh and ran my hand over my face before rolling my head to face her again. “I figured you thought you were too good to talk to a mechanic.”
“I would never think that.”
“That’s how I took it. Probably because that shit’s happened to me before.”
She chuckled softly but then laid her palm over her forehead, telling me without words that her head still hurt. “God, we’re both so messed up.”
I chuckled. “Seems that way.”
“Why are you helping me?” She rolled her head to lay flat against the pillow again and stared at the ceiling. “You just jumped in to take care of me.”
I stared at the side of her face, missing her eyes on me, and answered as honestly as I could. “It tore me apart to see you fading away.”
“I don’t know how to get back to who I was or if I even want to be that woman again.”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
“I wasn’t exactly living my best life, Cole.”
I squeezed her hand, and she rolled her head to face me when I spoke. “Who you are is what draws everyone in. It’s like the whole fucking room lights up when you’re around. That’s why people want to be near you. You’re smart. You’re thoughtful. You’re funny. I’ve seen the way you are with everyone else and why they’re drawn to you.”
“That might be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” she admitted.
I smiled softly. “Then I need to say it more often to be sure you believe it.”
“Thank you.” She slid her body closer to mine. “For everything.”
I laid my forehead against hers, aware that this conversation was bridging the gap between us. “I don’t need a thank-you.”
She smiled softly when I repeated what I always seemed to say to her when she thanked me, and I meant it. I didn’t want a thank-you. I just wanted to take care of her and make sure nothing in this world ever touched her negatively again.
“Night, Paige.”
“Night,” she whispered.
We stayed close. Our hands stayed connected, fingers linked, and maybe we both needed that. All I knew was that her hand felt good in mine.
And I had no intention of letting it go.