Beautifully Destroyed (Beautifully Broken)

“Then I’ll carry you, baby. Take all the strength you need from me.”

My gaze locks on his eyes that look like dry ice, the palest blue, and filled with so much power and determination I feel it in my chest.

Lifting a trembling hand to his bicep, my fingers curl into the fabric, and I pull myself up against him. I wrap my arms around his neck and bury my face in his sweater, taking deep breaths of his scent.

It’s comforting, and I never want to let go of him.

Ethan slips his arms beneath my knees and back and lifts me from the floor. Laying me down on his bed, he walks to the bathroom.

I hear water running, and a moment later, he comes back with a cloth. Sitting down on the side of the bed, he gently presses the cool cloth to my face, wiping the tears away and easing the feverish heat.

When he’s done, he sets the cloth down on the bedside table, and taking hold of my hand, he presses a kiss to my knuckles. Then he just sits and stares at me.

“Better?” he asks, keeping his tone gentle.

I nod as I turn onto my side.

He brushes some hair away from my face, his touch nothing more than a soft caress.

My eyes feel heavy and puffy, and no matter how I fight it, I drift off into a restless sleep.

Woken by a nightmare, I dart up and slam into something hard.

“I’ve got you,” Ethan says. “Deep breaths, baby.”

I focus on my breathing while my heartbeat thunders against my ribs, my hands gripping his shoulders.

Only then do I become aware of Ethan’s arms locked around me. He’s still sitting in the exact spot on the side of the bed.

When the nightmare fades, I ask, “How long was I asleep?”

“Three hours, give or take a couple of minutes.”

I pull away and slump back against the mattress. “Did you get any sleep?”

“I’m not tired.”

“What’s the time?”

Ethan checks his wristwatch. “Almost five am. Try to sleep some more.”

I shake my head, not wanting to return to the nightmare.

His phone beeps, and he pulls it out of his pocket. “It’s your dad. I’ve been texting with him while you were sleeping.”

My eyes dart between the device and Ethan’s face. “Did he say anything about coming home?”

“Not yet. He’s waiting to hear when they’ll send a helicopter to bring him to Riyadh.” Ethan holds the phone out to me. “Call him.”

“It’s an international call,” I mention the obvious as I pull myself up into a sitting position.

“It’s fine, Fin. Talk to your dad while I fix us some coffee.”

Nodding, I give him a thankful smile, making him tilt his head.

“Show me those dimples.”

My lips curve more, then a smile eases the tension from his face. He presses a kiss on my forehead. “Don’t rush the call.”

I press dial on Dad’s number while Ethan unlocks the door and leaves the room.

“Did something happen?” Dad’s worried voice comes over the line.

“It’s me, Daddy.”

“Fin.” He lets out a relieved breath. “I’m so sorry I’m not there. I shouldn’t have left.”

“You have to work,” I remind him.

“You’re my first priority.”

Dad sounds impatient, and I hate that my attacker is disrupting everyone’s lives.

What if it never stops?

What if he keeps torturing me?

Dad can’t stop working, and I can’t hide in Ethan’s bedroom like a scared little girl.

This isn’t living.

“I’m safe with Ethan,” I try to set Dad at ease. “It’s just messages.”

“Christ.” Dad lets out a heavy breath. “I can’t believe this is happening.” He clears his throat, then asks, “How are you holding up, sweetheart?”

I shrug, then lie through my teeth. “I got some sleep. I feel much better. Everyone’s been so supportive.”

“How do you feel, Fin?” Dad asks, his tone saying he knows I’m lying.

Like I’m losing my mind, Daddy.

I can’t take it anymore.

I just want it to end.

“Much better. Promise.”

There’s a moment’s silence, then Dad says, “Don’t be brave for me, sweetheart.”

I duck my head low, pull one of the pillows to my chest, and press my face into it. I breathe in Ethan’s scent, and closing my eyes, I whisper, “It’s killing me, Daddy. I can’t go on like this. It’s… just too much.”

“Christ, that helicopter better come soon, or I’m swimming to shore,” Dad snaps. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Just hold on for me, Fin.”

Letting out a quivering sigh, I inject false strength into my voice. “I’m just tired. I’m going to sleep some more. I’m sure I’ll feel better afterward.”

“Okay, sweetheart. Call me if you need to talk.”

“I’ll probably use Ethan’s phone.” I’m too scared to touch my own phone.

“When you feel up to it, go into town and get a new number.”

“Okay.” Ethan comes into the room with two cups of coffee. “Love you, Daddy.”

“I love you more, Fin. So much.” Hearing the strain in Dad’s voice makes my throat swell with heartache.