Savage Collision: A Hawke Family Novel (Hawke Family #1)

Come back to me.

Moving agonizingly slowly, she removes her dress, her coat long since gone, as it carried the most evidence of Paul’s death. After pulling it off over her head, she lets it fall to the ground, then slowly removes her bra and panties, letting them fall without ever looking at me.

After months of not seeing her, to have her standing here, beautiful and naked in front of me, and to feel nothing but regret and fear, tears my soul apart. She’s broken, beautiful, but broken, and there isn’t anything I can do to make this easier for her. I would take all her pain if I could, wipe away the memories of everything she saw and experienced tonight. I would do anything for her.

Using the touchpad on the wall, I turn on the shower jets and usher her to the stall. Steam fogs the glass and the temperature in the room rises rapidly.

I urge her to enter the stream of hot water. She pauses before she steps in, turning to look at me. “You aren’t leaving, are you?” Her voice is faint and shaky, and I fear she’s on the verge of another meltdown if I refuse her plea.

She’s never seen me completely naked.

It was never a conscious decision, but now that I’ve spent so much time talking with Doc, I realize I’ve intentionally prevented her from seeing all of me. My fear of rejection was always overtaking the overwhelming desire I’ve always had for her touch me.

Right now, she needs me. That’s all that matters. My mental shit isn’t important.

“I’m right behind you.” She nods and releases my hand, stepping into the shower and moving under the hot spray.

I undress, dropping my clothes on top of Danika’s before I move onto the bench along the rear wall of the stall. She has her back to me, her face turned up into the water which cascades down over her shoulders.

It should be sexual, but all I can picture is that vacant look in her eyes, the way her body shook against me as she sobbed.

She reaches down and grabs the shampoo bottle, pouring it into her hand and massaging it into her hair before turning around and dousing her long, blonde curls under the spray. The red-tinged water swirls down her body and into the drain.

Shit.

I cringe, again thankful she never looked in a mirror to see the horror coating her. I know she knows I’m here, even though she hasn’t acknowledged my presence verbally. Her shoulders relaxed the moment I entered. Knowing I might have helped relieve some of the distress, even a little, is at least something.

Her head drops and she opens her eyes, fixing them on mine. The vacant look is still there, but underneath it, I see a glimmer of my girl, giving me hope she will get through this.

Please, baby, let me help you.

She reaches down and grabs the bar of soap off the ledge, closing her eyes again as she runs it over her body, the suds rolling over her pink flesh and down the drain.

When she’s done, I reach up and turn on the spray above the bench seat, drowning myself in water that’s almost too hot. She steps toward me, placing her taut belly right in front of my face. I reach out, placing my hand on her hip and drawing her to me, my mouth finding the flat expanse of her stomach. “I love you, Danika.”

I don’t know if she hears me over the rushing water, and it doesn’t matter. I don’t need to hear her say it back.

Her fingers weave into my wet hair, nails scratching my scalp. She sobs, her body pressing against mine as she breaks down, collapsing onto her knees on the tile. I should have expected her to fall apart again, but seeing her like this, naked and vulnerable, throws me. It’s so different than the Dani I know.

She wraps her arms around my waist, pressing her face against my chest, her tears mixing with the water cascading around us. I hold her, burying my face in her wet hair. I hold her until our skin prunes and there’s so much steam in the room I can barely see two feet in front of me.

“Baby?” I gently pull her face away from my chest, cradling her in my hands. “Let’s go to bed.”

She nods and slowly gets to her feet, never looking away from me. Sliding the door open, she slips out around my chair and grabs two towels from the warming rack. She wraps one around her body, hands me one, and turns to the counter, wiping the steam from the mirror. I watch her out of the corner of my eye as I dry off. She stares at her image, unmoving, until I finally make it to her side, placing my hand on her arm.

Jerking slightly at my touch, she tenses before letting out a deep breath and closing her eyes. When she opens them again, she gives me what I think is supposed to be a smile. She takes her toothbrush from the holder and hands me mine. We finish getting ready for bed in silence. She pulls my t-shirt over her head and disappears into the bedroom.

I follow her into the room. The faint moonlight flowing in through the blinds and curtains falls over her form, which is already huddled under the covers in my bed.

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