Chapter 3
Vigil
Ilook around the room, nervous as my need for the bathroom becomes more and more urgent. Only I can’t tell Rhys that I need to go.
“What is it?” he asks, always knowing when something is up.
I used to love the attention he paid me, now I don’t know how I feel about it. It makes me feel itchy.
“Nothing,” I whisper.
Shit. How can I distract him? Get him out of here so that I can pee? This is so humiliating.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he grumbles.
“What?” I turn back just in time to see him roll his eyes before he scoops me up and carries me into the bathroom. “Oh, no… that’s not what I meant.”
“I’ve licked your cunt until you came on numerous occasions, hen. Ate your cream all up. I’ve had my fingers, my tongue, and my cock inside of you. A lot. So I think you can tell me without looking like you’re going to keel over that you need to take a piss.”
I kind of don’t like this tone he’s taking with me.
It’s making me feel smaller than I already do, and that’s saying something because I feel pretty pitiful right now.
He sounds mad, but he’s not the one about to pee his pants in a hospital bed in front of the person he was engaged to, but isn’t even sure that he likes them now.
Speaking of… I wonder how long I’ve been here. Like what day is it?
“Dammit Stella,” he growls. “Say something. Anything.”
“I… umm…” I lick my lips. “I need a shower too.”
His face softens as he takes me in. I’m sure I look bedraggled… and scared. “It really will be all right. I promise.”
“Okay.” I don’t know what else to say to him.
I don’t believe anything will be all right but then again, I was almost murdered last week?
Last month? Who knows, but it all still feels fresh and that’s what matters most. My trauma is real and I’m not ready to let it go yet, that is if I’ll even be able to at all. Ever.
Rhys places a gentle kiss to the top of my head. “I’ll just be right outside if you need me.”
“Thanks.”
“Unless you want me to scrub your back…” He tempts me with a smile on his lips, but he must recognize that I’m not ready for intimacy.
I don’t know that I’ll ever be ready again. Will he push me? Punish me if I never let him close again? I’ll have to leave before I can test the theory. I never would have thought that my Rhys would do something like that but then again, he was never mine. I was just someone he chose from a dossier.
I’ll never know why my picture and bio called to him and his father over the others. Maybe it was because there was no doubt that I was meek and shy… A pushover who was destined to fall for a little romance and wooing. Now I’ll have to be the hero of my over story even if I don’t know how.
“Don’t push your luck,” I reply.
He chuckles. The sound is deep and masculine and sends little shock currents down my spine. My body still wants him, my brain knows that he’s bad for me. Is this what it feels like to eat the blowfish sushi knowing it could kill you if prepared wrong?
“It really will be all right,” he says before closing the door behind him.
I nod and play along, needing him out so I can use the bathroom and shower.
Thank God. I’m finally alone.
I turn on the small shower and let it heat up while I strip out of my hospital gown that, quite honestly, stinks. I still fold it up and place it on the counter. The nurses here aren’t my maids and I’m thankful that they’ve kept me alive, even if I still find myself trapped in this gilded cage.
I use the restroom and then jump in the shower.
I wash my hair twice and scrub my body until it’s pink.
There are still little bits of dried glue from the tape and whatnot, but I’m not going to worry about it too much.
I have to put it out of my mind for survival.
When I’m done, I shut off the taps and wrap a towel around my body after wringing the water from my long hair.
And then it dawns on me that I don’t have any clothes.
I just can’t catch a break.
Or maybe I can because I spy a new toothbrush next to the sink and I snatch it up like it’s the key to heaven and rip the plastic wrapper off.
I spread the accompanying toothpaste on it and scrub it around my mouth, groaning in relief as I do.
I spit and rinse and then decide it’s probably time to face the music.
I pull open the door and step into the room to find Rhys arguing with Maeve about what I should wear to leave the hospital. Personally, I want a pair of leggings and a baggy sweatshirt. Apparently, that’s not in the cards.
I let out a sigh. “Hi Maeve.”
“Hello Miss,” she says as she bobs a small curtsey. It seems silly for her to do so while I’m basically naked. “We’ll get you squared away and then you can go home and rest.”
“Thank you.” I smile even though her idea of what my home is and mine are not the same. Oh, how I wish I was back in the states with my uncles. Even if they aren’t really my uncles, I love Fran and Paul and I miss them.
“What would you like to wear?” she asks me.
“Jeans?”
Maeve looks at me with owl eyes for a second before stumbling over her words. “I… umm… didn’t bring any.”
“Oh. Okay.” Of course she didn’t. And here I was thinking pajamas or leggings would be the best bet since I’m covered in bruises and scrapes like I was just in a massive car crash.
Ugh, I shouldn’t be crass when someone died because of me.
I have to remember that at all times. I’m responsible for someone’s death because I unwillingly played a role in this game of thrones.
“How about a casual coat dress?” she asks.
“Umm… sure.” Since I’m standing here, covering my delicate bits with a hospital towel, I’ll take whatever she gives me so that I can get out of here. Next step, find my way back to the U.S.
“I did bring boots and some leggings,” she says.
I smile a real smile for the first time in what feels like ages.
“Oh, thank you, Maeve!” I cry. At least I’ll be warm and snug and the black and blue spots on my legs won’t be visible to anyone who might see me.
“Now, let’s get your hair and face fixed up and you’ll be right as rain before you know it,” she says. “Sit down and let’s sort you out.”
I sit and she combs and dries my hair like one would a child.
I vaguely remember my mother caring for me the same way when my parents were home, but more often than not, she and my father were off on their adventures around the world.
She pulls half of my hair back from my face but lets the rest fall around my shoulders in a dark curtain.
She sweeps just enough makeup on my face that I don’t look like a zombie anymore and the bruises are mostly covered, showing just enough to confirm that I was in a tragic accident but that I’m alive and well.
“There,” she says sweetly when she’s done. “Much better. Now let’s get you dressed.”
“I think I can handle that part,” Rhys says, making me blush as he pushes to his feet from the chair he was sitting in by the window.
I’d thought he wasn’t paying us any attention as he read something on his phone.
As always, I underestimated this man who is determined to be my husband.
It would do me good to never forget that lesson should he achieve his goal over my own escape and freedom.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” she says as she bobs another curtsey and begins to collect her bits and pieces, tucking them away in her rolling kit.
“Thank you, Maeve,” he says gently.
“Yes, thank you,” I add.
She turns to look at me, her eyes soft and gentle.
“Anything for you two.” She says it more like a friend than a royal aid. “Oh, one more thing. I can’t believe I almost forgot it.”
She pulls a velvet box from the pocket of her skirt and hands it to Rhys before turning back to me. “Good luck,” she says and then she grabs the handle of her rolling cart and heads out the door, leaving me alone with this wolf in sheep’s clothing.
“Rhys—” I whisper, knowing what’s in that box and not at all ready to deal with it.
He does what he always does and ignores me. When will I learn that this is never going to be about what I want, and only what suits his narrative?
“Let’s get you dresses, hen.”
He holds his hand out to help me up and I know that I have no choice.
I’m trapped in this revolving door of doing whatever he wants until someone kills me.
That, or I can be brave for once and take back my power and save my own life.
It’s a thought for another time though because I’m just so fucking tired and sad.
This isn’t the life I want to be living.
I want to go back to my quiet apartment and the little bookshop I worked in, a place where no one died because of the choices I made.
I let out a sigh and put my hand in his, allowing him to pull me to my feet. I sway a bit before steadying myself, and Rhys wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me tight to him, my body flush against his much bigger and harder one. Being pressed up against him steals the breath from my lungs.
He unwraps the towel from around me, and the room seems to shrink in size.
It’s not the first time Rhys has seen me naked but this time, I feel completely exposed.
He grabs something from the bed and kneels before me, tapping my foot so that I’ll lift it in order for him.
I step into my panties and he slowly draws them up my legs, letting the backs of his fingers skate along my skin, heating me up, touch by touch, even though I’m still so uncertain of what lies ahead for us.
I hate that he does this to me. I need to remember that it’s all an illusion and he’s nothing more than a well-bred magician, skilled in sleight of hand.
He rolls the legs of a pair of black legging so that I can easily step into them and draws them up my legs before pulling socks onto my feet, leaving me dressed from the waist down.