“Don’t fight it,” he warned, his voice hot in her ear.
Caelyn stepped into the scalding shower and began furiously lathering a washcloth with soap, and then scrubbing her body from head to toe. She spent a lot of time on her face because of the makeup, but she spent even more time on her breasts and between her legs.
It only occurred to her that she was sobbing when she came out of the fog of memory and heard herself, as if from a distance.
I’m crying, she thought, and stopped instantly.
The memories faded, like a signal going dead. Somehow, she pushed it back.
Pushed everything down again.
The water had begun cooling, as she’d been standing in the shower scrubbing for quite awhile. She wasn’t even sure how long she’d been in there, but it must have been long enough to concern Elijah.
There was a knock on the bathroom door and then his voice, muffled, speaking.
“…okay in there…?”
She turned away from the cooling spray of water from the showerhead. “I’m fine, I’ll be out in a sec!”
“…making sure…”
She couldn’t hear the rest of what he said.
Smiling a little at his concern, Caelyn turned off the shower and stood dripping into the tub. Some of the worst of the anxiety and panic had passed. She felt a little better now that she had cleaned her body entirely. Her skin was red and raw, as though she’d scraped the top layer off.
She liked that idea. Shedding her old skin.
It was only when she put the towel around her torso and stepped out of the tub that she realized, in her haste, she’d forgotten to bring her little travel bag with her clothes into the bathroom.
“Elijah?” she called. He didn’t respond. The television was on out there, and he’d turned up the volume loud enough to not be able to hear her very easily.
Screw it, she thought. I’ll just run out there in my towel, grab my bag really quickly, and run back in.
Somehow, the idea of running out in her towel in front of Elijah didn’t really scare her the way it should have. After what had happened with Jayson, she’d have assumed that the mere idea of showing a flash of skin to Elijah would have totally freaked her out. But it didn’t.
Elijah could be trusted. Somehow, he was safe. Of course, she knew that he wasn’t really safe at all—in fact, she sensed that in many ways Elijah was more dangerous than Jayson—just not to her. Elijah wouldn’t ever hurt her. She knew it in a deep way, a sense that she couldn’t even begin to explain.
So she opened the bathroom door and ran to get her bag—and bumped directly into Elijah, and her towel started to fall off, so she grabbed it to keep it from exposing everything.
Elijah caught her as she stumbled forward, his strong hands around her waist as she held up the top of her towel.
“Hey, hey, easy there,” he laughed. “It’s not the Indie 500. Chill.”
“I just needed to get my bag,” she said, her cheeks aflame.
“Why didn’t you just open the door and ask me to get it for you?”
“Will you just let me go so I can get it already?” she asked, flustered by his nearness and his questions.
He was still looking at her though, not moving away. His expression had changed from good-natured and amused to one of worry. “What the hell…” he said, as he looked down at her legs and then her arms and shoulders. “You’re all fucking bruised and shit.”
“Don’t look at me like that,” she said. Her voice was raspy and choked. She pushed past him and quickly grabbed her bag.
“Caelyn—” he started.
“Stop looking at me!” she said, and then ran into the bathroom, shutting the door.
She was breathing heavily. Why hadn’t she realized that he might see her and the bruises and scrapes? Of course he would wonder what had happened to her.
She opened her bag and looked for the most non-revealing outfit she could find.
Granted, there wasn’t much to choose from, because she’d been frantic at the time that she’d packed it.
There were mostly shorts, some panties and bras, tshirts, one sweatshirt and one pair of jeans. She really didn’t want to have to wear jeans right then, so Caelyn put on a pair of shorts a t-shirt and then the sweatshirt on top of it. Most of the bruises and scrapes on her body were now covered up.
After another few seconds trying to compose herself, Caelyn walked out of the bathroom again.
Elijah was sitting on the edge of one of the beds, watching TV. He glanced at her.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said, not really feeling fine at all. She climbed into the opposite bed and got under the covers. She was too hot in her sweatshirt but didn’t feel comfortable taking it off.
“Listen, you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to,” he said softly.
“I’m aware of that.”
“What’s your problem?” he said. “Why are you treating me like the enemy?”
“Because, you should mind your own business.”
Elijah looked straight at her. “Hey, I’m not the guy who gave you those bruises.