Nodding, she pushed it closed. Avoiding her reflection, she undressed. Balled up her clothes and stuffed them in the little trash can. Turned on the water. Waited for it to heat. Got in.
She cleaned herself mechanically, barely feeling the spray against her skin. Her soapy hands found a bruise on her hip. One on her ribs. One on her shoulder. And each little jolt of pain chipped away more pieces of Grant. A bruise on her forehead. On her wrist. On her elbow. Chip, chip, chip.
Each piece of him that sloughed off exposed more of her, raw and vulnerable and unbearably sensitive.
It was suddenly like someone had plugged Alexa back into her body. Because all the pieces of her snapped into place in one instant so that she felt everything. Every bit of it. The fear and the pain and the despair and the disbelief and the shock. Her head throbbed. Her aches were a pulsing agony. It was too much.
Toomuchtoomuchtoomuch.
A sob ripped out of her, and Alexa clapped a hand over her mouth as it folded her in half and finally forced her to her knees. She slid into a ball on the slick bottom of the tub, hugging her legs and burying her face into her knees as she cried. Grant was like a poison inside her she had to release, and every tear cleaned her, disinfected her, set her free.
So she gave herself over to it. One last time. Just until Grant was completely gone from her psyche the way he was from her life. And then she’d never let him have a piece of her again.
“I DON’T KNOW how I didn’t kill him,” Maverick said into his cell phone. “I probably fucking should’ve.” Rage and regret were like viruses in his blood, running rampant through him and laying waste to everything in their paths. Damnit. He’d known Slater could do something like this. He should’ve pushed Alexa harder not to go to work. He should’ve stayed at the house himself. He should’ve done so many things that might’ve kept this from happening.
It was failing his mother all over again, only worse.
“I get that,” Dare said, “but going after Slater only leads to one result that matters—you locked up. Do I have to worry about you staying smart?”
Pacing the living room, Maverick blew out a frustrated breath. “No. I called the cops and did it by the book. And now he’s the one spending a night behind bars, the fucker.” The drumming of the shower water sounded out, and Mav had to resist the urge to go to Alexa and reassure himself that she was really there, in his house, safe.
“Good. Because this is probably gonna get messier for her before it gets better.” Dare’s voice was gruff, tired.
“That much is clear,” Maverick agreed. “I’m going to talk to her about filing a protective order in the morning.” Though, given who Slater was, who knew how well local law enforcement would follow through on actually, you know, enforcing it. Still, it was better to have the legal paperwork in place. And it would be damn satisfying to imagine Slater getting served.
“Worth doing,” Dare said. “But don’t count on that to resolve the situation.”
“I won’t. Not even a little,” Maverick said. He stopped in front of the big window that looked out over the backyard and the sunlit pond beyond. He couldn’t quite make out the fire pit where he’d made love to Alexa—and where she’d made love to him—he believed that into his very bones. But he didn’t have to see it to feel the impact of what they’d shared and what he felt for her.
Everything.
And damnit, he wanted to tell her. That he loved her, that he wanted her for his own, that he wanted forever. With her. But he also didn’t want the memory of those declarations to be mired in the pain that Slater had caused. Fuck, he wasn’t sure which was the right way to play it.
“Did you hear me?” Dare asked.
“Shit, no. Sorry.”
“I asked how she’s doing,” Dare said.
Maverick shook his head. “I’m not sure. She’s mostly holding it together, but I think she’s in shock. He slammed her to the ground pretty good, so she’s also hurting. Got bruises on the side of her face and some other places.” Afuckinggain. “She’ll be okay, but she’s still processing.”
“Yeah,” Dare said. “Christ. I’m sorry, Maverick. And Haven is, too. She asked me to let Alexa know that she’s here for her.”
“Thanks. I’m sure she’ll appreciate hearing that.” And he did, too, the way everyone was embracing Alexa again. It meant a lot to him. A long pause, and everything building up inside him demanded some form of release. “Shit. I’m . . . I’m fighting for her, D. I’m all in. And I’m not letting anything stand in the way this time.”
A satisfied sigh, like maybe Dare had been holding his breath, came down the line. “About goddamned time, my brother. About goddamned time.” Someone called to Dare in the background. “Listen, I gotta go. Dinner’s on. Assume you all aren’t coming.” It wasn’t a question.
“No,” Mav said. “And we shifted moving her mother until tomorrow morning, so I won’t make it to help finish setting up until later in the day.” Maverick wasn’t sure whether to regret the carnival’s poor timing or hope that it might provide Alexa with a welcome distraction. Either way, the Ravens needed it, and they needed it to be a success.
“We’ve got it covered. Phoenix pulled this shit together like a boss.”
“Yeah, he did,” Mav said. “Catch you tomorrow.”
“Wait. Mav?”
“Yeah?” he asked.
“Don’t you dare blame yourself for this.” Dare’s voice was gruff, stern, and Maverick could easily imagine the expression that went with it. He’d seen it on his cousin’s face a million times. “I know Alexa’s situation is probably screwing with your head given what Bunny went through, but this isn’t your fault. Wasn’t then and it isn’t now.”
But Maverick couldn’t get there. Not yet. Not when Alexa wore fresh bruises he might’ve prevented. “I hear ya, D.” They hung up. Maverick stood there for a long moment, his ears latching onto the sound of the running water once more. Was it just him being an anxious, impatient fucker or had Alexa been in there a long damn time?
Something in his gut twisted, pushing him in the direction of a long damn time.
He made for the bathroom. Knocked. No answer. Knocked again.
His gut went on a free fall.
Maverick opened the bathroom door. Steam hung thick in the air. “Alexa, you okay?”
And that was when he heard it. Crying.
The sound lashed at him and lanced urgency through his blood. He was at the tub’s edge in an instant and pulled back the curtain. Seeing her in a tight ball on the floor nearly broke his fucking heart.
In a flash, Maverick turned off the water, grabbed a towel, and draped it around her shoulders. “Come here, baby.” He slid his arms under her knees and around her back.
Crying harder, Alexa wound her arms around his neck, making it easier for him to lift her from the tub. “Maverick,” she cried, her wet face burrowed into his neck.