Chapter Five
Hex sat on the foot of a bed in a hotel room ten minutes from home, a sobbing woman in his arms, and wondered how he’d gotten here. Not the physics of it, but this, with an emotional, barely dressed, woman clinging to him.
He’d seen Elle cry before. This wasn’t her. Always before, if she cried it was silent tears streaming down her face while she did her best to ignore them. This was more, this was far more. She sobbed now as if she’d lost everything and there was no way to go on.
He tightened his arms around her and let her cry. Once she was done, he’d get her to tell him what was wrong. Then he would make sure that whoever did this to her paid for whatever they had done to her.
Hex held Elle, waiting for her to get this out of her system so they could talk.
Maybe the whiskey hadn’t been the best idea, but why?
Was there some reason she wasn’t drinking?
He thought back to the wedding, trying to remember if he’d seen or heard anything that might explain it, but he couldn’t recall anything.
In his mind, after something like today, that would be a good time to have a drink or two, maybe five.
But he wouldn’t force her to drink it, or anything else.
Well, maybe some water. He looked down at the woman in his arms. Her sobs seemed to be slowing.
She wasn’t crying as hard, and there seemed to be hiccups mixed in with sobs.
He shifted enough to get one hand free so he could rub it up and down the length of her back.
Her phone chirped, but he didn’t even look around for it. She could take care of it later.
It chirped several more times while he held Elle and let her cry. She’d stopped crying and sat in his arms, her head resting against his shoulder as she tried to catch her breath despite the occasional hiccup.
When a knock sounded on the door, Hex froze. He looked down at Elle.
“Were you expecting someone?”
“A delivery,” she said, nodding her head.
“What did you have delivered?”
“Clothes.” She took a couple of breaths then pushed herself upright and out of his arms. “I better get those.”
“I’ll get them. You go wash your face. you’ll feel better.” He didn’t say he didn’t want her going out into the hall where someone might see her in just the thin sheath she had on.
“All right.” Elle headed for the bathroom while he went to the door. He brought in the bags and dropped them on the bed.
“Is there anything in here you want now?” he called over his shoulder as he looked down at the half dozen bags.
“Yeah, there’s a nightgown and a pair of fuzzy pajama pants, and don’t forget the panties.”
Hex blinked as he stared down at the bags.
She wanted him to go through them and find them.
It wasn’t something he would normally do, at least not without permission, but he had that.
It only took him a minute to find the pants and the night gown, both were pretty obvious, but he had to go through each bag before finding the underwear. He finally found them in the last bag.
“You want me to bring these to you?”
“No. I’ve got it. Thanks,” she said from beside him as she scooped the things he’d pulled from the bags for her into her arms and headed back to the bathroom.
Not sure what else to do, he went to the sliding glass door that led out onto the balcony and pushed the drapes open enough he could look out.
A few minutes later, she emerged, going to the sink and mirror that sat in a small alcove just in front of the restroom. “Did you find the brush and hair ties in there?”
“I saw them. Do you want them?” He turned back to the bag still scattered on the bed.
“Please.”
He dug through the bags, found the items, and took them to her. Elle stood in front of the mirror pulling pins from her hair and dropping them on the counter in front of herself.
“I think she put about a hundred of these things in there. I keep finding more and more.”
“Want some help?” Hex asked, setting the brush and hair bands on the counter.
“Would you mind?”
“Not at all.” He looked at the curls draped over some kind of bun on the back of her head and wondered where to start. “You mind if I mess up the curls?”
“Nope. The brush will do it anyway. I need some normal. I need to feel in control.”
“All right.” He started by patting her head gently, feeling for hard spots and anything that might stab him. He found a few of the odd U-shaped pins. He pulled them out and added them to the growing pile in front of Elle. “Want to talk about it?”
“About what?” she asked.
He glanced up and found her watching him in the mirror. “Whatever you want.” He turned his attention back to her hair.
“I don’t know.” She dropped her gaze.
Slowly, he picked the pins from her hair until he ran his fingers through it and didn’t encounter one. Then he picked up the brush and stepped back.
“Come sit down. Let me brush your hair.”
She met his gaze in the mirror and narrowed her eyes at him.
“Why?”
“Just trying to help you feel better, Elle. If you want to do it yourself, you’re welcome to.” He extended the brush in her direction.
She stared at him for a long minute then turned and went to the bed without taking the brush.
“Where do you want to sit?” she asked without looking at him.
“I’d prefer to have my back against the wall,” Hex said.
He kicked off his boots and put them next to the TV table where they would be out of the way then went to sit on the bed, one leg kicked wide to give her a place to settle and get comfortable in front of him. “Want to turn on the TV?” he asked as she sat and backed up in front of him.
Elle shook her head.
Hex started at the bottom and carefully worked his way up the length of her hair, making sure there were no tangles and loving the way the soft strands curled around his hand as if they couldn’t resist the urge to touch him back.
As he brushed he watched her shoulders slowly relax. He wondered if she was ready yet. Could he ask without putting her back up? He was still debating whether or not to speak up when she made his internal debate moot.
“I don’t know where to start.” Her voice was soft, almost lost.
Hex wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her it would be okay, but this wasn’t the time. If he did, she’d likely stop talking and he got the feeling she needed to get this out.
“Start wherever you like.” He kept his voice gentle, hoping not to push her out of talking.
She tilted her head back and looked at the ceiling for several seconds. Hex wondered what was going through her head, but he stayed silent.
“I’ve been seeing Michael for over a year. I don’t love him. I never did. But Mama insisted he was a good match and that I would learn to love him.” Her voice was empty. As if she was talking about someone she barely knew instead of her life for the last year or more.
Hex wondered if she’d been with the man at the altar for a year, why she’d come to him a couple of months earlier.
He wasn’t thrilled about having been the other man, even if he hadn’t known about the one she’d been seeing for what was it, ten months?
But he stayed silent. She was talking and he didn’t want to stop her for fear she wouldn’t start again.
“Michael—” She paused.
Hex didn’t know if she was looking for the right words or what, but he didn’t say anything.
“Michael was determined to do things ‘right’. He has a key to my place, but he’s never spent the night. The same goes for me and his place.”
Hex frowned. That seemed odd to him, especially since she’d spent the entire night with him, at least the one night they’d spent together. He didn’t say that. He waited for her to continue.
“He was determined that we would wait until after the wedding to go all the way. He said it would strengthen our relationship to be friends and know we liked each other before we added in the hormones of intercourse.”
“You never had sex with him?” Hex couldn’t stop himself from asking.
He wondered if the man was straight or if he was already getting sex somewhere else.
Those were the only reasons he could think of for someone not to go to bed with the woman they planned to marry.
But it took all kinds and he did his best not to judge.
Unless there were kids involved. That was something he wouldn’t stand for.
She shook her head. “Which makes what I found out this morning even harder.”
“You want me to braid this for you?” He changed the subject for a moment.
“You can braid hair?”
“Yep.”
“Where’d you learn to braid?”
“You learn all kinds of things in a stable, sugar.”
Elle was quiet for a moment, then she spoke, “A braid would be good.”
He divided her hair into three sections and got busy weaving it.
“What did you learn this morning?” he asked, letting her know he was listening and wanted to know.
She fidgeted. Her hands shuffled in her lap, and she turned her head to look out the window. He didn’t stop her from moving, just let his hands follow her head as she did.
“I’m pregnant.” Her voice was so soft he wasn’t he’d heard her right.
“You’re pregnant?” he asked, his mind spinning.
If she never had sex with her fiancé how could she be pregnant? Then it hit him. His heart seemed to hammer in his chest. Two months ago. He stared at her, not sure what to do or say.
She turned to look at him. She didn’t say anything but nodded, tears pooling in her eyes.
“It’s mine?”
She nodded slowly as if not sure how he would react. One tear spilled out of her eye and trailed silently down her cheek.
Hex’s breath caught in his throat. Elle, the person he knew was the only one he wanted, was carrying his child. He wrapped both arms around her and pulled her against him, her back pressed against his chest as he hugged her tight.
But what if she doesn’t want it? What if she’s planning to abort?
The thought made his entire body flash cold, and he buried his face in her neck for a moment as she sat stiff in his arms. Not fighting, but also not relaxing into him like she normally would.