Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

Nia

I wake the next morning to find the bed next to me empty.

I push up, rubbing the sleep from eyes as I try to decide what time it is and where my…er…roommate might have gone.

Rising from the bed, I stretch my arms over my head, the clock on the nightstand reading ten in the morning.

My eyes bug out. I never sleep this late.

And granted, I was exhausted yesterday, and up really late, but I was also in a strange place with a strange person. How did I manage to sleep so soundly?

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Jake calls a moment before he sticks his head into the room.

He's still shirtless. In the light of day, I can see every cut angle of him, every pronounced muscle. The smattering of chest hair only making him hotter.

He steps into the room, his hand running down his own body, which is when I catch the flecks of grey in the dark strands of the hair on his chest .

For some reason, this fact instantly makes me wet. What the actual hell?

"Good morning," I say, clearing my throat. I force my eyes away, my gaze going to the window as I stare out into the desert, now shimmering in the sun.

"Hungry?" he asks like he didn't notice me ogling him.

My stomach betrays me with a growl. "Got any coffee?"

"Of course," he answers as he leaves the room again, heading, presumably, back to the kitchen.

I follow, still groggy from the deep sleep. "I never sleep like that," I say with another yawn. If I'm being honest, I've spent years on high alert. How strange that I relaxed with a…stranger.

"I'm glad you slept well."

He's got a blender on the counter, some green concoction all mixed. I wrinkle my nose. "What is that?"

"Smoothie," he answers with a wink. "I worked out this morning and this is how I power back up. Got the recipe from my nephew Leo. His wife is pregnant, and she drinks these by the gallon."

Working out right now sounds wretched. Instead, I take the mug of coffee he offers and take a large gulp.

The caffeine does little to clear my foggy head and the heat of the drink scalds my tongue. Setting it down on the counter, I yawn again. "It's hot. I think I'll take a cold shower and then drink it. That will clear my head as much as anything."

"All right," he answers, pouring himself a large glass of the green liquid.

I wrinkle my nose. "Are you always so health-conscious?"

He chuckles, the sound deep and rich. "Nope. I gave up smoking cigars a month ago, and I drink bourbon the way most men do water."

I stare at him, my gaze drifting down his body. He's joking. Like seriously joking. Except, I caught the faint scent of cigar smoke on his jacket last night.

Heading to the bathroom, I turn on the water and brush my teeth before I shuck off my clothes and step into the cool spray, humming to myself .

Singing has grounded me the last four years. It's the only time I feel alive, whole, worth something. I let my voice grow, swell, my mezzo-soprano filling the bathroom.

It's a funny thing, singing is the one thing I do that is for me…. I wonder if I would actually like making money with my voice? Then it would have to be for someone else. It doesn't matter now. I'm here and not in Canada.

And here is proving to have a few advantages.

This feels wonderful and I close my eyes, just letting the water pour over me for a few minutes as the final notes of my song die and for a moment, I'm just quiet. Nothing but the sound of water.

That's when a strange noise hits my ears. It's like a hissing…

Is it the pipes? We are in the desert. My guess is water pressure isn't the best. But as I turn in the spray, I let out a blood curdling scream.

In the corner of the shower, a snake has curled up, its head lifted, its tongue tasting the air. I scream again, scrambling to get out of the tub but my foot catches the shower curtain and I'm falling, the curtain and the rod come down with me as I land hard on my shoulder.

I let out a moan, pain so sharp it steals my breath, radiating through me.

The door to the bathroom flies open.

This is the second time Jake has barged in and it's completely obvious the lock doesn't work, as Jake stands over me. "Nia! What's wrong?" He growls out above me.

"Snake!" I gasp. "Tub."

"Shit," he rumbles but he doesn't step over me to look in the tub. Instead, he scoops me up in his arms, the curtain and the rod coming with us.

I'm painfully aware that the thin opaque plastic is the only thing separating my naked body from his as he plasters my torso to his bare chest, my arms coming around his neck.

And that's when my shoulder throbs and I give another moan.

"Did it bite you?"

"No," I shake my head, burrowing my face in his neck, the pain threatening to pull me under. "It's my shoulder. I landed on it when I fell."

He stops in the middle our room, looking down at me with a deep, penetrating stare. "How bad?"

I take a cleansing breath, adjusting my arm to check the severity of the injury. "Not too bad," I answer, knowing I'm going to have a nasty bruise, but I don't think I broke anything. The pain is already receding.

He gently sets me down on my bed. "Don't move."

And then he's gone.

I lay there, aware that I'm in a wet shower curtain as he goes back in the bathroom. I hear a loud thump and then he returns. "Snake is dead, though it wasn't poisonous. Just a bullsnake."

He's next to me again, peeling the curtain away from my arm before I can even respond. How is he so damn quick in a crisis?

"What are you doing?" I gasp, though my shoulder throbs again, my wince making my pain obvious.

"Sweetheart," he whispers. "I just want to check you for injuries."

I shake my head. For so many reasons, I don't want him to see my body. First of all, no one ever has. I don't date.

Second, I barely know him and he's my… I can't say kidnapper as he strokes his fingers down my uninjured arm. "If it's bad, I need to take you to a doctor."

I look at him then, my brows scrunching as my body relaxes. "But aren't we locked in here…"

"Nia," he whispers, his fingers reaching my wrist and starting back up my arm. "You think I'd keep you here if you were hurt? I told you. I'm a crusty old bastard but not like that. Besides, we're here to help each other."

I melt into the bed, the words disarming even more of my defenses, until I remember the third reason I don't want him to see me. The bruises…

And not the new ones blooming on my shoulder.

But it's too late as he peels back the curtain, revealing my breasts and then my ribs .

But he stops, his eyes narrowing. "What. The. Actual. Fuck?"

I turn my face away, shame making my chest tight. I don't talk, because I'm not sure that what the fuck is an actual question. And because I don't even talk about this with Jess. I can't. It's easier to just ignore. Push it down.

"Nia. Did he give you all these bruises? Did Toni do this to you?"

My throat swells and I swallow trying to clear it. I attempt to grab the plastic curtain and pull it back up my body. But he places his hand over mine.

"Tell me, Nia."

I can't. I shouldn't. but I feel the cracks inside growing wider. Dare I bare my hurts to him? "It's only when he gets really drunk. But when Little Anthony got arrested and he found out about the Diamond…"

Jake spits a string of curses that could curl the hair of a sailor. I take it he knows who Little Anthony is. Of course he does. It was his nephew Leo Kincaid who got Anthony arrested.

His hand leaves my arm and then he gently touches one of the large circles that decorates my ribs. "I promise you, he is going to pay for this."

I've forgotten my nudity as I stare at him, my eyes wide. "I don't…" What am I going to say? I don't need him to do that? Don't want him to? Neither are true.

"I'll never let him hurt you again, Nia. I promise."

Stupid tears fill my eyes. I never cry.

"Jake, please don't…" I can't seem to get the words out. I never talk about this. And though I'm sure lots of people in my so-called home know what's going on, no one ever talks about it to me. No on does anything about the abuse. Everyone buries it deep.

"Don't what, sweetheart?"

I can't tell him, don't take this on. It would be a complete lie. Words I least expect come out of my mouth. "Don't tell anyone. I'm so ashamed."