Shattered (Steel Brothers Saga 7)

“Ruby? Please, let me help.”

“Have to get him off me,” she wept quietly. “All of his filth. All of his grime. I’m contaminated. Contaminated with his disgusting filth.”

“Baby, you’re clean. You can’t wash anything else from you.”

“I have to. He’s inside me. He’s…part of me.” She continued scrubbing herself.

“Who, baby?”

“My father. Theodore Mathias.” She stopped scrubbing and looked up at me. “Who else?”

I took the opportunity to gently take the shower pouf from her clasped hands. “Let go. It’s okay.”

She reluctantly let me take the soapy pouf from her. I rinsed it off under the pelting water and then set it aside.

She was still quietly weeping. I didn’t know what to do, so I just held her, the water still pummeling us. I couldn’t think of anything to say, so I said nothing.

After a few minutes, she pulled away. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For having this silly meltdown. You’d think I was some drama queen teenager. This isn’t me.”

“I know it’s not you. Not the normal you. We all break down sometimes.”

“You don’t.”

“Are you kidding? After what my brother went through to save me? I’ve done my share of overthinking it, believe me.”

“There’s a big difference between overthinking and having a meltdown in the shower,” she said.

“Not so much.” I moved toward the faucet. “Okay if I turn this off now?”

“Yeah. I suppose I’m as clean as I’m going to get.” She gave me a half smile.

I opened the shower door and grabbed two big bath towels. I wrapped her in one, dried her off as best I could, and then wrapped one around my own waist.

“You want to come back to bed?” I asked when we were both dry.

“Maybe I should just go home.”

“Look, if you don’t want to sleep in the same bed with me, that’s fine. You know that. I’ll set you up in a different room. But I’m not letting you drive home when you’re obviously so distraught.”

“No,” she said.

“What do you mean, ‘no?’ You can’t drive right now. It’s the middle of the night. You’re a cop, for God’s sake.”

She let out a tiny laugh. “I mean no, I don’t want to sleep in a different room.”

Warmth spread through me. I hadn’t realized, until she said it, how much I wanted to share my bed with her for the rest of the night. I wanted to protect her from whatever was bothering her.

“You want to talk about this now? About what brought this on?”

She shook her head. “I’d rather forget about it.”

“Okay. For now.” She would have to talk to me—or someone—about this at some point. She was an intelligent woman. She probably already knew she couldn’t keep it inside forever.

I walked her over to the bed. She lay down, and I got in beside her. I opened my arms to her, and she snuggled into my shoulder.