I mean…where do we even go from here?

But Beck is Beck, and he takes charge. I suspect this is due to his experience in handling Caroline, and while the crimes against me are not fresh, the memories of them tonight are.

He pulls me down the hallway to our bedroom, right into the bathroom. Releasing my hand, he kneels beside the large garden tub and starts to fill it with hot water. He opens a bottle of my bubble bath and pours in a generous amount. I tuck my hands into my pockets, watching him test the heat of the water and make adjustments before standing up and wiping his hands on a towel.

Turning to me, he places his hands on my cheeks and leans in to kiss my forehead. “I suspect you’ll tell me you’re not hungry, but I’m going to make some soup for you all the same. And some tea. Get in the bath, take your time, and just relax.”

I nod, because that sounds nice and it also gives me time to prepare for the inevitable talk I know we need to have. My hands go to the navy blue sweater I’m wearing, pulling it up and over my head. Beck watches me for a minute, his eyes warm and tender, but completely lacking in desire. This comforts me for the moment, and I drop the sweater to the marble floor.

Beck turns, walks back into the bedroom, and within a few moments, he’s back again. He places one of his folded white T-shirts on the vanity with a pair of my panties on top. Turning to the back of the door, he pulls his robe off the hook and lays it at the foot of the tub. Another kiss to my temple while his hand wraps around the back of my neck, and he turns to leave.

“Beck?” I say quietly.

“Yeah, baby,” he returns softly.

“I’m going to tell you everything.”

“I’m ready to hear it when you’re ready to tell it.” His eyes are sad but reassuring. “I’ll help you. I can’t make it right, but I’ll make it better. I promise. And I have things I need to tell you too.”

I wonder if he’d help me kill JT. I wonder exactly how strong his loyalty will be to me.

I wonder exactly how in the hell he’ll be able to look JT in the face tomorrow at work.

“Now get in the bath. I’ll come check on you in a bit,” he instructs me.

“Okay,” I whisper, and watch as he gives me one more sad smile and walks out of the bathroom.

—

My eyes open, blinking against the harsh morning light streaming in through the wall of windows to my left. I rub my eyes, try to clear the fuzziness from my head left over from an incredibly exhausting day yesterday, and turn my head to the right. Beck’s side of the bed is empty and the covers are pushed to the side. There’s an indentation in his pillows, so it appears he slept here last night, although I don’t have any recollection.

Then it comes back to me.

My bath.

Eating about half a bowl of soup before pushing it away.

Drinking the cup of chamomile tea he had prepared for me.

Taking my hand…pulling me up from the dining table.

Leading me to our bed and pulling back the covers.

Crawling in behind me, still wearing jeans and a white T-shirt, his lavender button-down discarded. “Let me just hold you. We can talk when you’re ready.”

My eyes closing and then…bright morning sunlight.

Sitting up, I push the sheet and blanket off me, swing my legs to the side, and stand up. I stretch, feeling well rested and strangely at peace for the moment. It’s almost as if the events of yesterday created a massive purge of emotion in my system; the releasing of a huge and terrible secret to Beck; his acceptance and support. He doesn’t know a single detail of what happened to me. He has no clue about the holes in my memory, or my murderous revenge plot. He’s known me for all of a month and caught me breaking into his office, and yet he accepted my word about his partner and friend raping me. Beck brought me home last night, bathed and fed me, and then let me fall asleep in his arms.

Yes, I feel strangely at peace with absolutely no agenda for where I go next other than to find Beck and tell him my full story.

I use the bathroom, wash my hands, and brush my teeth. I pull my hair up into a ponytail and consider putting on a pair of sweatpants, but then dismiss the idea. I don’t forget the fact that Beck crawled into bed with me last night fully dressed, something that he’s never done before. He was handling me with care, treating me like a fragile glass bowl. My heart aches with the memory of what he told me last night.

Caroline was raped.

He’s been through this, and right now, after the harsh realities of everything that happened yesterday, he’s not quite sure how to handle intimacy with me. While the past twenty-four hours have dredged up some painful shit for both of us, it hasn’t changed my want or desire for him. Beck suddenly knowing I was raped doesn’t make me protective of my body. I gave that to him with no boundaries the minute we dispensed with condoms, and I’m not willing to give that up now that I’ve found it. I’m also not willing for him to have doubts or insecurities about my abilities to engage with some deep, no-holds-barred fucking the way we have been doing quite nicely.

So I leave the sweatpants behind and pad out of the bedroom in his white T-shirt that smells just like Beck, and my matching white panties.

My eyes hit the kitchen as I reach the end of the hallway but it’s empty. They slide left taking in an empty couch, before finally landing on Beck, who is sitting on the floor, his back up against the eastern window. He’s still dressed in his jeans and T-shirt, his bare feet planted on the wood flooring and his knees raised. His arms are looped around his shins and he stares back at me with warm eyes.

“Morning,” he says quietly.

“Good morning,” I say, my voice still a little rough with heavy sleep. “What are you doing?”

“Just waiting for you to get up. Figured you needed the sleep.”

“How long have you been up?”

Beck raises his arm, twists his wrist to look at his watch. “A few hours.”

My gaze goes to the mahogany and silver pendulum mantel clock over the fireplace and I see it’s just past seven A.M. I look back at Beck and see his face is haggard, his eyes red with lack of sleep. He looks wary.

He looks scared.

He also sees me taking this all in and his face morphs into a tender smile as he pushes up off the floor. Immediately, he’s removed the vulnerability I just witnessed, a brief moment where I now know that he’s taken the weight of my problems onto his shoulders because he cares for me.