Chapter 26

Opening my eyes and seeing Samuel—so calm, with gentleness in his eyes again—pressed against me, I open my mouth to scream. I quickly find it covered with his hand; my screams muffled against his palm.

"We aren't going to do that." He squeezes my cheeks with just enough force to cause me to wince. "I let you have your moment. I had mine. Now, you're going to behave for me, and I'm going to put that part of me away from you."

The firm grip on my face loosens, and he traces his fingers along my jaw before dipping them into the water. Submerging his hand, he lifts his cupped palm full of water back to my face. I flinch and pull back as the water splashes against my face.

"You've made a real mess of yourself." He softly slides his wet hand over my face. Diluted blood—my diluted blood—trickles down his arm as he pulls away. Lifting my burning palms from the water, I find both of my hands completely riddled with scrapes and scratches. Blood still seeping from the deepest of them.

Samuel gently grabs my hand, lightly caressing the back of it with his thumb as he brings it to his face. I tense with resistance, and he squeezes just hard enough to gain my compliance as he pulls my bloody palm to his lips. He places a soft, wet kiss in the center of my palm, leaving his lips stained a deep shade of cherry when he pulls my hand back.

"You're going to let me take care of you, Cora." He presses my hand back into the water before resituating me on his lap. Spreading his thighs, my ass slides between them to the smooth porcelain of the tub. He wraps an arm around me and pulls my back to his chest. The sigh he releases once I'm against him is both eerily comforting and terrifying.

"Plea—" I begin to plead, but I am silenced by a gentle finger over my lips and a shush against my ear.

"You've told me time and time again that you love the ways I take care of you." He pulls a washcloth into the tub and begins sliding it over the sensitive and marred skin of my arm. "You're going to let me, whether you want to or not."

As I sit against him, he continues to clean the mess I made of myself, my heart still pounds as he washes away the blood. Adrenaline, fear, and self-doubt course through my veins as I battle with myself.

Do I run from the monster?

Or submit to the man I've fallen for?

"That's my good girl." Samuel's voice is full of pride when I willingly part my thighs so that he can clean between them. I'm relieved to find his touch isn't sensual, just methodical and caretaker-like as he cleans the last of the blood and cum from me.

Ringing the water from the washcloth, he drapes it over the faucet before wrapping his arms around me and holding me against him. Not tightly or suffocatingly, but lovingly.

"You'll learn," he speaks against the crook of my neck.

"Learn what?" My chin trembles as I ask the question.

"That I know what's best for you and exactly what you need, love." Nearly submerged in now tepid water, goosebumps prickle over my skin at his words.

"Sometimes you might not like what you need," he rubs his hand over the now pimpled flesh of my arm, "but it's always for your best."

My eyelids flutter as I try to keep my welling tears at bay.

How is it possible for my stomach to drop and my heart to swell at the same time?

Is this man going to love me?

And care for me?

Or am I going to wind up like ‘the others.'

Dead.

Nothing more than a name—maybe a photo—inside one of Detective Michales' folders.

Samuel pulls the plug, and the sudden gurgle of water draws me from my thoughts. He releases me from his embrace and nudges me slightly, encouraging me to stand. As I do, he rises behind me and climbs from the tub.

Grabbing two towels, he wraps one around me and lifts me out, placing my feet on the plush bathmat before wrapping the other towel around his waist.

Water drips from him as he meticulously dries every inch of my skin. Once he's satisfied, he leads me from the bath and down the hall. We stop outside the room that was mine for a few nights before Samuel had me join him in his bed.

"This will be your room tonight." His words are cold, and I'm surprised to find how much they hurt.

I don't even know if I want to be in his bed, but why doesn't he want me there?

"Why?" I can't seem to stop the question from spilling over my lips.

He opens the door and ushers me inside. His fingers lightly grip my jaw and tilt my chin up toward his face. My breath sputters, and I freeze as he dips his head and presses his lips to mine. Pulling back just a hair, his words vibrate against them. "I think you need a little time to think about what you've done and how to do better."

Releasing my chin and stepping backward, he is quickly on the other side of the threshold.

"I have somewhere to be this evening, and I don't think you're in a state to come." He pauses for a moment as he reaches for the knob. "I trust you'll behave."

The door clicks shut and tears begin to trickle down my face as relief washes over me. Mere seconds of relief… Until my heart is figuratively pulled from my chest.

Running to the door, I grip the handle only to find it doesn't turn. He's locked me in.

"Samuel!" I scream his name as my tender palms painfully slam against the door. But my cries are met with silence.